Chapter 369 The Crucible III
"Master, what is my role?" Tasha asked, unsure what to do, surrounded by men tending to their armor. She felt out of place, dressed like a maid at her Master's insistence. Initially, she thought that perhaps he had wanted to mount her, but the idea seemed too far fetch on a battlefield with Transendenents.
In a soul whisper, Altair spoke, "Mask your presence. Are you familiar with Shadowheart?" —Tasha nodded— "Good, then act as my shadow. You have my ring with you, right? My Devil Sword is still inside. Use it to fell those you deem a danger to me. You can do that, right, my Sword Maid?"
The Lilm bowed, "As you command, my Lord." fading into shadows beneath the sun.
Her absence did not go unnoticed, but no one seemed capable of tracking the demoness.
Ser Ian Vastnar came on him. "Where preparing to leave." he said, "As per your request, we'll head the front lines, acting as the vanguard, though I don't understand why."
Altair didn't bother to explain himself, ordering the men together. Of his three hundred, he was left with twenty-five. He suspected more than half to die in this clash, though he didn't let his thoughts show.
"Listen up!" He said, his voice raised. "We're heading straight in. The moment they see me, you can bet everyone will be aiming for my head." —The faces of the knights paled— "I don't plan on dying, so we stick together. Do not break formation. There is power in numbers. The enemy will be desperate.
They will not be thinking correctly. That is our advantage. Are you ready?"
One by one, the men nodded meekly.
Altair sneered. " Are you ready!" He growled, his presence lashing out, crowning him king amongst the sea of nobles and lords.
In unison, the men roared, "For Blood and Ash!"
The Young Lord nodded in satisfaction; spinning on his heel, he slid 'Sarrin' from out its scabbard, and the world dimmed beneath its luster.
"For Blood and Ash!" he echoed as the army of men shouted.
Altair foot lashed against the gate, tearing it off its hinges, spending embers spewing like a fountain across the cobblestone. He bounded forward like a wolf, leading a pack into the forest lawn ahead. Behind them, ten other teams follow, slowly breaking off from east to west.
Altair kept his steady pace, bound by World Laws that were more robust than he was used to. Gravity felt countless times stronger than what he was raised in. Mortal flames that had long lost their effect now burned.
"An Arcane Trap!" Captain Ian shouted at the strange mist rising from the earth, swirling about in a sort of dome.
Their steps did not slow. Altair saw it; opening his left hand to conjure Vale Sword, he threw it like a dagger, hitting a tree no different than the others a few hundred meters away. Almost immediately, the mist in their sector disbursed, revealing ten men in the branches, barely obscured by leaves.
In one lightning moment, Altair became nothing more than a shrieking line of black light, robbing one of their heads before death could give chase. By the time the soldier died, Sovereign's Gale had pushed him mid-air towards another and another. He felled five before an arrow exploded out of the back of a soldier's head.
"Keep up!" Altair shouted. Glancing to his rear at Captain Ian, displaying why he was a Ninth Circle, a step into Transcendence. The way he moved was nearly as inhuman as Altairs, slaying four in a single strike.
By the time they landed, they were off once more through the forest, which stretched for several miles. They spotted seven more teams, though this time, there was no surprise attack like before.
Sarrin howled differently than a sword that carried a finesse that a saber lacked. It was fiercer, seeking to cut man, beast, and heavens in twain. It was all the same before Sarrin, demanding blood. In a few swings that sent blood spewing towards the skies, Altair was unsure what he liked more, sword or saber.
He moved like a baleful whirlwind of death and lightning that came from the deepest pit of the abyss, blacker than the deepest night. Each swing echoed like a dragon's mighty roar that shook the hearts of mortal men.
By the time they reached the bailey, Altair and his men of twenty-five were stained red. Some who never killed before shaking uncontrollably. How some became knights without killing Altair wasn't sure, but he was disgusted by how green they were. Of the twenty-five, half were green, with the other being seasoned.
Aside from Ian, the rest were Seventh Circles, more than capable of defending their young Master, or so many of them thought.
Snorting, his gaze flashed towards the foyer guarded by nearly thirty men, armed and in formation, of seventh circles and higher. Led by Lord Eastan Vadica, the third son of Areon Vadica.
The moment his gaze fell upon the approaching squad, Eastan released a cry of defiance at the sight of Nox De Nier. With a look that could kill, he bounded forward like a feral beast, crossing the bailey in a few breaths.
Embers pillared the skies, spewing into flames that sought to devour everything against the clash of blades that shattered the earth beneath their feet. Altair held his own as his Almighty Resistance cut the force, trying to tear him in half. He smiled mockingly when a Vale Sword flashed into his left hand.
'Indignation'
Eastan only saw the sprawling roots of black lightning reaching out from that saber. His body reacted before he could think, flying back like an arrow as his sword desperately tried to defend himself.
[Psionic Mind has Granted Focus]
[Psionic Mind Has Granted Cognitive Division]
[Psionic Mind Has Enhanced Instincts]
"Kill the Rest, Captain!" Altair snapped with a feral grin at the blood-stained gash on Eastan. He bounded forward with Sovereign's Gale, ignoring the spatial properties around him; he was before the third young lord in two steps as their blade flew into a maelstrom of fire.
"MONSTER!" Eastan roared, pushed on the defensive, and quickly became overwhelmed by Altair's superior swordsmanship.
Semi-arcs brought forth a gale of flames swirling across the bailey as the two young masters' clash exploded. The explosion sent both shooting back, gliding across the grass a hundred meters.
Eastan raised his sword towards the skies, and space began to compress around Altair, locking him in place. Eastans might seem almost pungent as mana bled from his body, dancing around his body like streams of mist. His lips pulled back on his teeth as he roared the words, "Severing Gale!!", cleaving his blade down in a profound arc with every ounce of strength he could muster.
A sword light ten meters tall roared a cry of defiance towards the winds and skies, hurling towards the young Master with a cruel smile. The aspect of rule lashed itself across Sarrin while his eyes burned with omniscience.
"Counter!" It had happened so quickly that Eastan didn't even see when his Severing Gale inverted, flashing backward through his body. Blood spewed over his face as he absently touched his missing arm and leg.
The last thing he saw was a Vale Sword piercing through his eye, exploding out the back in a gore of red.
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[Eastan Vadica Felled. Exp Gained]
[Fallen Necromancy Has Absorbed Soul of Eastan Vadica]
Altair did pause for a breath, launching himself off the earth so violently it left webs sprawling across the grass. His battle couldn't have lasted more than a minute, yet it was enough for his men to lay waste to eastern men.
"Three fled deeper inside," Ian reported once the battle was over. "They'll know that nox De Nier is about to enter the lion's den."
"That is the plan. How many did we lose."
"Two—" Abruptly, blood spewed over Altair's face, from a soldier to his flank, whose head exploded from an arrowhead, traveling towards his eye socket from the surrounding forest. He couldn't dodge, but neither did he need to, as tendrils of darkness sprang from out of his shadow, catching it mid-air.
'Shadow Cage,' he managed to employ in time with the throbbing motion of the sigils in his eyes.
'Ambush!' someone in the squad roared.
"Inside! Get inside!" Ian shouted, pushing the young Master, the one he'd sworn to protect, through the foyer. Inside, Altair cursed, lifting his head towards the archers on the stairs, their bows nocked.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
Ian knew then he'd made a mistake, and he could not take it back. He moved to challenge the arrows being fired in the hopes of defending his Young Master, but Altair ducked from under him, his saber dancing, redirecting the arrows away from him and some of his men.
"NOX!!!!"
Altair did not know who threw the spear. He sensed it all the same and dodged only due to foresight, kicking back, his back hitting the wall, before he moved again. His gaze locked in onto the elderly man, gliding his saber from his golden scabbard as tall as he was. He had to pull it from an odd angle to draw the golden silver blade, leaving the scabbard behind.
"Nox De Nier," he uttered low and slow. His old, hollow eyes were blinded by tears streaming down his emaciated flesh. "I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"