Chương 319: Calamities

Aegis of the Mirror Guard! Kite had heard those words spoken by the King long ago, in a clash that had turned so abruptly in an unexpected way for everyone involved as Young Master Valor unleashed the artifact that turned out to be of Discord's make.

Given that Kite was now fighting for both his life and his kingdom against a man who had, if not aligned himself with, then at least accepted the influence of that very deity, he still found the attempt to use the artifact against the monarch an odd detail that did not add up. However, that was a mystery he was all too happy to leave hanging, because the moment the King spoke that chant, everything shifted.

Densely concentrated waves of resonating force were collapsing in upon him, courtesy of a serendipitous synergy between Kite's staff and the gold-ranked Leyline Warding. If Kite had enough of the barriers conjured to break as one - which he had mixed up a bit in his latest casting to have both kinds available - then detonating one of them through the enchantments of Immutable Echo would detonate them all.

And given how many of the barrier panes still remained and were linked to one another, that amount of resonating force in a relatively enclosed space should have been devastating. Would have, even, if not for what happened next. A shimmering image of the King appeared before him, completely reflective as if made from one smooth piece of mirror that was still somehow three-dimensional. One moment it was still, but in the next it flashed with motion as its reflective blade was lifted in warding.

All of the resonating force collapsing inwards was abruptly reflected back, like a compressing sphere suddenly reversing and exploding outwards with much greater force. Kite just managed to raise Heaven-and-Void Warding in time to ward off the brunt of it while still feeling his bones rattle and armor creak from what little leaked through.

The throne room wasn't as resilient however, at least not from the inside, and the venerable, tower-like chamber that had stood above Heavenward for centuries was ripped apart from the inside in cascades of splintering woods and cracking support beams. The protective arrays of the palace barely managed to suppress the debris from being sent flying out into the nearby districts, visible as glowing lines that kept the biggest pieces suspended in place.

What remained was an odd facsimile of the previously impressive structure, its shattering seeming frozen in place like some brutal work of art as an homage to Destruction. However, neither Kite nor the King had much time to remain awed or horrified by the collateral damage, colliding again in a shockwave of unleashed force that set the floating splintered pieces of the throne room groaning beneath the pressure.

Mirror-blade met barrier, staff, shield, hatchet then staff again in a swift succession of exchanges, dispelling and mana-draining parries occasionally lighting up the King's form while his sword sent ribbons of Kite's blood splattering across the shattered room as his nemesis special attack seemed to part Kite's armor with disturbing ease if he didn't manage his angles correctly.

It was also when they were up close that Kite managed to somewhat confirm his suspicions; there was indeed life force flowing from the King in place of mana. Sometimes mixed and sometimes exclusively, but there was some power in place. And if there was a power, Kite might be able to intervene. Or, if that failed, at least take this into account. However, the King had not kept fighting without adapting either.

For one, he had started targeting the spectral arms of Kite's mantle whenever possible, forcing Kite to spend even more mana himself to renew them. Even with the additional reserves granted him by Gate of Nihility absorbing so many potent blows and Kite's general mana drain, even he could not last forever beneath such pressure. As such, Kite shifted his stance slightly as he stepped and repositioned in the air upon panes of force while the King flew circles around him.

There were a few things he hoped to do to perhaps - perhaps - be able to shift the trend in initiative, but the time and conditions for those had yet to arrive. And neither would work if the King could somewhat comfortably balance out his mana pool with his more rapidly regenerating health, courtesy of his flesh essence. Thus, the crackling blue of Chakra Implosion was joined by the trailing nothingness of Void-Sunders-Firmament a lot more regularly than before.

Normally, Kite was more sparse with this sundering special attack as it cost more mana than the others and was in many cases less important when fighting other essence-users where the mana-drains were his key to victory. But now he let loose, letting all the arms of his mantle start burning through his mana more rapidly.

The mirror-sword of the King whirled to attack and deflect, but a dozen blows into an exchange Kite suddenly shifted and accepted a strike that once again drew his blood in a great spray, trusting his gold-ranked body to be able to take it in order to land not one but four attacks of his own.

Staff, unseen blade and the projected attacks of twin hatchets of white jade each struck the King's armored form in various places, none landing as properly penetrating hits but all of them exploding outward in unfurling tears in space where they lingered to damage and - most importantly - absorb the King's healing.

After a few more blitzing exchanges that carried the pair backwards, forwards, upwards and down throughout the more and more open space, another of the King's blows landed, Kite fighting through the pain of another hole being blown open through his chest while once more utilizing the retributive wave of Unyielding to knock the monarch back into a particularly large and stable piece of floating wall before another full set of projected attacks struck again, leaving more lingering void rifts like dark flowers across the form of his foe.

However, his third attempt was reversed as the King managed to use his superior speed to feint, baiting out Kite's attempt and landing another flurry of returning sword strikes when Kite overextended for but a moment which left three arms of the glowing mantle sundered and shattered while another swift slash shattered one of the panes of force Kite was standing upon.

In that moment of unbalance before a new was formed, the King flew upward while consuming another few swords of his array to send down a series of much faster and more potent sword waves of which Kite only managed to deflect and shatter two while two more bit into him.

Had it not been for the ebb and flow of healing from his War-Seeds, Kite was worried that he might have lost control of the clash already, but together with some healing from the now much more careful Sage he managed to retain that tenuous balance as he pursued, sending out a series of projected attacks while he too climbed higher inside the shattered tower of the throne room.

"Those tattoos of yours… They are of the gates," the King remarked as Kite drew closer, the shattered arms of his mantle reforming in flashes of pale, gray light.

"Tell me, Sentinel, how many of the queen's trials did you complete?" While it was a simple matter for a gold-ranker to dedicate some focus to talking - both finding the words and hearing potential responses - even mid-battle, their duel had so far been mostly a silent one. The King had made his stance clear, as had Kite, and thus he had seen no reason to try to make the monarch see sense while at the same time trying to bring him down.

He was therefore surprised by the words, although he did find that he was willing to give an answer.

"Three."

"I see," the King replied even as he started pushing Kite back with a series of clean, vicious slashes that severed barriers left and right while avoiding Kite's attempts at parries so as to not pay the cost Pattern-Shattering counter would claim from him. Kite was close to having a solution there, but just a little bit more was needed. Just a little bit longer.

"Then that is one domain in which you surpass me. I merely possess two; one from silver rank. And one from gold." It spoke to the man's control that he managed to turn slightly even as they tore into one another to reveal the glimpse of familiar gray metal around his neck as some kind of amulet seemed to be resting beneath the man's now rather brutalized armor, holes and gashes left where Void-Sunders-Firmament had eaten - or was still eating - into it.

Kite did of course know that others underwent the trials of the Jade-Sky gates, even if it was rare for people to dare them and even rarer for them to succeed. Most did not tend to openly flaunt it either. The King's admission did also provide an important piece of information for Kite; there was one or more gold-ranked gates to be found. He had known it theoretically of course, even found vague records of it, but none mentioned where these select few gates were found. Or how many there were.

But that was something to file away for a later future where Kite - Fortune be willing - survived this conflict.

"Why ask me that then, your Majesty?" Kite asked in return, even stopping in the air in a ready stance.

"Why would you care?" To Kite's surprise, the King halted briefly as well, though he suspected that it was mostly because the man had reached the same conclusion as Kite; that for now, the King's natural regeneration was held at bay by Spirit Singularity, but wasn't overpowered by it. Stopping for a few dozen seconds would not tilt the battle in either's favor, and they both knew it.

"Because I seek to know myself through the warriors I defeat. And to do that best, I must know them. Your rise has been as meteoric as it has been humble, Sentinel. I had not properly understood the scope of what your path was until now, merely heard rumors of your proficiency as a duelist. And for that, you have my respect, even though our purposes this day seem irreconcilable. You would have been a wonderful sparring partner."

"Not the first time I have heard such a sentiment," Kite mused in return, although his tone didn't carry much mirth.

"And as for you, your Majesty… Your path is terrifying. Was that all there is to your ambitions for the throne then? To claim power? To grow strong?"

"To reach the heavens. To do so, one must have the power and means," the King agreed, raising his sword once more.

"To walk in the wake of Soaring Soul, my love and I will do anything it takes."

"Anything is quite the vast concept, your Majesty," Kite retorted, readying himself even though he felt the pain of his injuries as that dull ache of a high-ranker.

"Before we resume, I urge you to look around and ask yourself that question once more; is this really how you want to fuel your rise. During their last few exchanges, Kite and the King had climbed high into the air, high enough to reach up to where the topmost sections of the throne room pagoda tower floated in a scattered formation.

It was only at this height that they had a proper view of the city through the suspended debris that had previously been part of the elaborate architecture of the palace, and only at Kite's words did the King seem to properly stop and take in the city around them. And all of the calamities that were simultaneously unfolding there.

Anasta Temren could not help but treat herself to a smile as she felt the spirit of Sect Leader Echo finally give in as she brought out one of her hitherto undemonstrated spells to shear through the other woman's final attempt at turning the tables of their unexpected duel, leaving remnants of dissolving paper fluttering in the wind around her.

"Damn you! This isn't over!" Sect Leader Echo snarled while another series of paper simulacra appeared to keep Anasta away while a folded stag of conjured white sheets carried the other gold-ranker up into the air, only for the mount to be sent staggering as a pair of black scissors cut one of its legs clean off when Anasta reappeared nearby after a brief teleportation.

Swearing, the sect leader activated some kind of defensive artifact which caused a barrier to spring up around her as the mount kept staggering away, but Anasta kept harrying her through another few blinking teleportations before other matters drew her attention just before she could drop her prepared line of how scissors always prevailed over paper in the popular children's game. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

A quick glance towards Maximillian - whose swarm kept harrying the Heavenly Shadow grand elder - got her the confirmation that she needed, and thus Anasta made sure to send the retreating sect leader a glare filled with meaning before she let the woman go. Because there was other business to attend to. A lot of it. Stretching out her aura senses let Anasta notice just how much things had had the chance to devolve into skething madness, the old curse from her hometown wheedling its way into her thoughts.

Some enormous terror of swirling dust and wind was trying to wreak destruction in general, kept at bay by Glint and a surprising number of members of the local affluent draconian families, and that was not to mention the twin duels above the Tengu Clan compound or the numerous lesser gold-ranked creatures she sensed around the city.

Worse, it seemed like the sects had started catching wind of things too, and just as she was wondering what the participants in the 'tournament' would do next, one of the golds surveying the capital was suddenly attacked by another, no doubt an old grievance or five bubbling to the surface.

Even aware of it, Anasta keenly felt how whatever was prodding subtly at her emotions made her want to take her frustrations out on the retreating sect leader, but she let that go as she started making her way towards the huge creature in the distance. However, that was when she picked up another conflict; one whose auras showed her an ally in even direr straits.

Locking in on the location, a snipping motion with a pair of fingers had Anasta vanish once more, only to appear above a city block reeking of noxious fumes just as a large armor-like form of shimmering ice was slammed backwards with enough force to send the juggernaut crashing through two houses and partially into a third.

The assailant who had struck with such force was a pale man whose every color seemed bleached and faded, wielding a black gnarled staff as he deflected counterattacking icicles with impressive speed.

"Speed way beyond his aura. This one has some trick to get so powerful," Anasta murmured even as cutting lines suddenly crisscrossed the yard where the man seemed to be defending the ruins of a house and the partially revealed ritual site beneath. Her spell did have some effect, spilling black blood as part of the man was cut open, only for the blood to turn into dark vapors that flowed back into the man's form to restore him.

"Plague. He's spread a disease that empowers him. And he's spread it far," Dew called as she righted the ice juggernaut which encased her, assuming another ready stance.

"Of all the clashes here, I arrived last and was the soonest to be pushed back. Embarrassing."

"Then we are fortunate that this is no Hua-Xian dueling tournament," Anasta remarked even as she began flickering around to avoid the seeking dark bolts that the pale man had started directing her way after her appearance.

"Let me step in and help. We have a task to complete together, after all." Even as she conjured water like a barrier, it was not enough. Raking winds of hungering fury tore through them like claws before striking Glint's form. Her precious and beautiful raiment of gems took the brunt of the damage, but enough still tore through to rake glowing lines across her scales. Literally glowing too, as Glint's blood flowed like radiant molten gold these days since her ascension.

The sight caused several of her suitors to cry out in outrage, redoubling their efforts as they fought this beast of howling winds and the other vermin that threatened the city. And while it was humiliating to suffer such a blow, Glint still found it acceptable to the alternative as she constantly wove her magic that had felt so new after consuming the fruit at silver rank but now fit her as perfectly as the most well-tailored robes.

With a flash of her crystal antlers, retributive damage blasted back at the titanic monster while the karmic waters kept covering nearby houses to leave them miraculously unharmed by the thing's passing. Glint's own flesh would heal much better than the lives that would no doubt be shattered and snuffed out if she ceased her vigil for even a moment. While she was bound to no particular family, Glint still strove to become every inch the young mistress she had so boldly claimed herself to be back in the day.

To set an example in grace, poise and elegance. To elevate herself above the undignified and aim for the highest of standards. And - as she had read in a most interesting book which her bond had gifted her some years back - to shoulder the responsibility of her station and power. Especially when it meant protecting those lesser who inhabited this world around her.

So Glint bore the indignity as she strengthened the bonds her karmic waters formed between her and her suitors and renewed the retributive magics for the next time this uncouth beast would rend her flesh. It was the obligation of her station, or at least the station she strived for, much as her bond currently fought for similar ideals.

He would word them differently, of course, but there was a reason Glint had never wavered from his side, even though he kept bringing her to the most dreadful places when on contract with Gauntlet.

"Conquer, my bond," she thought through the link which had connected them since the very day they met at that stream in the north where Kite had fed her a precious scale from her progenitor.

"I shall make sure to protect our ideals while you are occupied. And separate those worthy of truly becoming my suitors from those unfit." Soul was the heavenly tiger, the flowing lightning, the blooming forest. Her body took on the aspects of heaven and earth, fusing them together to become something more. She was a weapon being hammered upon the anvil. She would be perfect. And this Priestess that Soul fought; strong, cunning and zealous in the extreme? Her metal claws and discordant magics were the hammer.

Spells discharged and metal blades rent her flesh, helping Soul to work out the holes in her defenses and chinks in her footwork where she stepped through the air. The pain was nothing, at least nothing beyond a faint warning, although there was a lot of it even subdued as it was. This Altessia Sessante was no greenhouse flower. Not a front liner in the most spectacular battles of Warrior either, but someone who had ripped her way to the position of power she was in.

That much was clear in every blow and slash of her claws. Each blow, each maneuver from the innately more powerful woman - the gap only bridged by Soul's path that enhanced almost every aspect of her physical and mental prowess - hinted at a severe truth: that Soul might lose. She had been in similar situations before, of course, but none quite as severe as this one. Being struck down by a silver-ranker while she had been a bronze or iron would not have been the same.

Neither would being torn apart by a collapsing realm like the one inside the Jade-Sky gate she had followed Kite into. This was not like that. This was tempering. With true stakes for her and the cause with which she had aligned herself when even she - with her inward focus on her path - had to take notice of those that would let the example of the Hua-Xian Warrior continue to be corrupted into something unrecognizable. And in this important battle, perhaps for her life, Soul knew that she might lose.

And as she pushed her body to the very brink, her boons taking it further and her many styles letting her embody various concepts better than ever before, Soul also knew with certainty that she would not have it any other way.

"Kyyyyaaaaahhh!" Dragonfly's howl echoed along the fine hallways, some of which were now set ablaze by her passing as she spun, leapt and crushed. Took punches and gave back in equal measure. And did her very best to make an impact in this mess of a conflict she had found herself wound up in. Dragonfly did not regret the many days and weeks she had spent training Sprite, nor any of the contracts she had undertaken when Kite was away which had helped to protect and stabilize the lands which she called home.

She knew that it had cost her many other opportunities, one of them being to reach gold rank for this very conflict. Not that it would have been a sure thing even had she possessed the opportunities Kite had through the task group, but with the choices she had made, there had never been any possibility of it at all.

So while she would like to imagine that her potential gold-ranked self of the future might have torn through this mass of soldier constructs - who kept throwing themselves at her and in pursuit of River somewhere deeper in the palace - with the ease of a passing deer scattering the seeds of a dandelion, this present her instead had to do things the hard way. And heavens, those jade fists sure were hard.

Even Dragonfly's rapidly regenerating form was starting to feel the strain despite her inner flame roaring inside her, and her spirit almost wavered as she thought of her husband - foolishly earnest and dedicated to his path and this often undeserving kingdom of theirs - and what he must be going through back in the throne room. Or wherever their battle had taken them. Gold-rankers were crazy fast, after all.

Seeing another good choke point up ahead in some kind of indoor garden with all kinds of fancy statues, Dragonfly flared her mana and stamina to make a mighty leap above the thickest mass of constructs, landing in the open archway that led beyond. Planting her feet properly, Dragonfly then let out another bellowing war cry as she swung downwards, fire welling out from her axe while its weight and her great strength sent the two leading constructs flying.

Those behind the lead landed a few punches each that drove her back a little before she could crush them as well, each blow taking her towards the brink before her own potent regeneration started pushing back. Balancing on that line was Dragonfly's path, after all, and her path did lead towards the heavens, even if it might be a lot more meandering than that of her husband or the battle mad Soul. Dragonfly just hoped that what she did here today would make a difference.

For her husband, her companions, her fellow Guild members. And for the people. For people like the young girl she had been when she had lost her family. Those who were not yet strong, but tried anyway. When they got back - because Dragonfly had to believe that they would, that they all would - then it would probably be time to take on another student or three. So that more could be strong. Just like her.

Hopefully strong enough to take on a few hundred more foes, the next dozen already rushing in through nearby corridors, throwing themselves into the fire that was Dragonfly. Dust of Golden Sunrise, iron-ranker and one of the younger scions of the Sunrise family of Heavenward, clamped his hands over his ears as another surge of powerful auras echoed across the spiritual din of the city, rattling his soul like a stack of plates in an earthquake.

He knew the gesture was in vain, as the auras of the gold-rankers didn't produce a sound per se, but still couldn't help it. It was just so pervasive, so intense. At first, he had been standing at his window and witnessed the conflicts, but the speed and force of those clashes soon made him nauseous and forced him onto his bed where he currently remained, hunched up and shivering.

He was supposed to be a gifted swordsman and the shining star of his family's next generation, their prominent position in the administration of the capital easily affording him the essences and the prestige. Awakening stones, equipment, future sect memberships; they were all his. And yet when Dust beheld what the conflicts of the mighty truly looked and felt like... He felt small. Insignificant. His special attacks and glowing blade so paltry, his skills and practice so useless. What was he to them?

These thoughts also brought great shame, but even that was not enough for Dust to be able to push past the spiritual discomfort and rise. He just... Couldn't. Instead, he laid there, tremors racking him every now and then while praying to Warrior to forgive his weakness. And to any god that would listen that this calamity would soon stop.

As the King truly seemed to consider the madness unfurling in the city beneath them for a moment, part of Kite could not help but hope - against reason and experience - that the monarch might actually step down. There was a distinct sadness in the man's eyes, after all, but that faint glimmer was gone all too quickly, replaced by resolute resolve and principles cemented over decades.

"While what I see does not please me, Ametrine and I made a vow to one another long ago," the King said as he raised his blade again while what remained of his sword array started rotating slowly in the air above them.

"Back at iron rank, when I was a mere fledgling duelist of a branch family and she the seventh daughter, only deemed good enough to marry off for connections. We swore to reach to heavens together, no matter the costs. That I was to be her blade, as she would be my eyes. Devotion is not mere emotion, but a principle to uphold. And my devotion to her will ever surpass whatever deed she might commit or bargain she might strike. It was what we promised one another.

So while I see your point, Sentinel, and while it might also make you a better man than me, it matters little at this moment. Not when weighed against my devotion. Let us finish this soon, so that I can return to her side. For answers, yes. But also to be the blade I have promised to her."