Portals of red began appearing before Caleb realised what was happening. An unfamiliar mix of mana and energy spilled forth through sudden tears in reality filling the room. All around others in the white formal dress brandished swords, skills readying themselves as a woman levitated into the air barking orders.
Caleb stood quickly pulling the knife from its hilt at his hip, his breaths short and sharp. He looked over the faces of those surrounding him again, trying to ignore the panic rising within his chest. But their expressions of surprise and uncertainty, and the countless eyes that lingered on him unnerved him further.
The other members of his squad prepared themselves too, their demeanours changing instantly. Ossila, Sillan and Iricea’s expressions. Gone was the childishness that’d plagued their dinner, replaced instead by a focused calm.
A whistle echoed out through the hall, and he turned his attention to the woman in white who floated over everyone, shouting, as others looked to her.
[Form squadrons and hold!] she cried. [If separate we’ll brave the initial rush and then gather around your squad leaders. The unnamed are superior in number but disjointed! This our win!]
A raucous cheer rose from the crowd and the woman roared back, raising her sword.
[For Victory!] Anas Veys!”
“Anas Yunveys!” all others shouted in return. Caleb looked to them as groups leapt through the portals, swords and skills at the ready.
Then a hand grabbed him on the shoulder. Caleb spun around, Daen looking to him with a palpable mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The others stood beside him, swords drawn as they stood in front of a portal, looking to him.
[Focus Caleb. Focus] he said. Caleb nodded, letting out a breath as Daen guided him over to the others. [If he gets in trouble, protect Caleb.]
They all nodded silent.
Daen looked to him again smiling, before handing him his sword. Caleb took it, the blade heavy, unwieldly in his hands.
“W-what about you?”
[Don’t need it] Daen said. [Now, just follow behind us. Move as we move, do as we do. If there’s an issue tell me and when it comes time- don’t hesitate. Ever.]
Caleb nodded, his hands still trembling as he gripped the hilt.
[Alright. Let’s go!] Daen shouted. Instantly the others rushed forward, and Caleb – gripping the sword tightly – followed behind.
Then the floor swallowed him whole. He fell alone, crying out as his body seemed to leave him.
Space warped, his body fleeting for a moment. In a rush of mana, he felt the flash of thousand stars above him, then light revealed itself and he crashed to the ground, barely maintaining his balance.
He staggered, then come to a stop on one knee, breathing hard. As the shock passed, he took a moment to gather himself, then looked around, blinking hard as he shielded his eyes from the harsh light of day.
He stood on a steep yet smooth incline of black rock, the incline continuing onwards behind him up towards the snowy peak of a mountain. Beneath him the incline continued before descending into a thick blanket of clouds that stretched around as far as the eye could see. The air around him was thin, cold, the air from every breath steaming like vapour as it was blown away in the wind.
He couldn’t sense anyone. He was alone, on some kind of mountainside, above the clouds, the bright the light of a sun beaming him in the face as it began its descent past the clouds, colouring the blue of the sky in orange hues.
It feels different, he thought. This place… it feels like that cavern. Back in the trial.
He coughed again, reeling from the cold and foreign nature of the reality around him, before looking to the sky again. Above him a huge grey gas giant hung in the air, great swirling patterns on its surface. But his eyes were drawn not to the beauty of the scene, but the swirling blue portals above him, and the alien mana pouring into the space all around.
His heart thudded hard as people emerged, some floating, some falling out down toward the clouds and rock as flashes of red appeared beneath them.
It was starting. And he was still alone.
He clutched Daen’s sword tighter, practically willing his power to do something, protect him. Like before the panic gave rise to strength from within. But it felt different from how he’d used it before, reserved almost.
The space around the mountain grew denser with magic, the unfamiliar and familiar clashing at once in a mess. A fight of dominance by the very mana in the space around. He couldn’t understand it, even with his sense. He only knew a war waged somehow, and still the men were yet to trade blows.
Caleb cursed, starting down the mountain before he paused looking to the feeble golden glow that emanated from him. He could feel it already. It wouldn’t be enough. Not here. He skidded to a stop, turning his mind’s eye inward to his core.
The raw power of the star burned like normal in his chest. But the fire of its flames, its heat, was dampened, weakened by something beyond him.
“Just do what you did with Ekhut. With Arithorson” he muttered, taking a breath. “Just focus. Just focus.”
With a push borne of panic, he felt that power emanate from within him, fuelled by will. In bursts it flickered through his form, flashes of heat burning through magical body. But it wasn’t like before. And with each push reality seemed to resist him and his will for strength.
He strained, against it before realising the obvious. He couldn’t treat it like simply filling a jug with water. Here, to maintain his strength, he’d have to maintain a constant outpouring of power from his core.
He cursed to himself, the effort already strenuous.
He needed to find help fast.
Suddenly he a wave of the foreign mana assaulted him. He spun, coming face to face with a blue portal only a few metres away. A giant of a man stepped out, holding a club against his shoulder, body wrapped in furs. Others stepped out after him, all in the same garb. A tribe. All of looking towards him. Caleb stumbled away, his eyes wide with panic. Then the man raised his club at Caleb, roared, and then they were charging him.
“Shit” he mumbled. “Holy shit.”
Then he was running, his entire body flooded with fear as his heart hammered in his chest. The chorus of shouts grew louder behind him but he didn’t dare look back stumbling forward, towards the layer of clouds with all his might.
He slowed as waves of mana rolled out, upwards from the clouds. Men and women from the portals of blue descended downwards into the clouds as men and women he recognised from the festival emerged upwards. They met just above the clouds, some continuing upwards but others falling back through them, large flashes of bright light illuminating below as the mountainside shook with waves of pure power.
The roars at his heels – joyous – grew louder and he cursed, continuing forwards. Then he felt it. Something filled with mana was chasing him. Several things. He dived to the side, hitting the ground before rolling over quickly, several balls of fire flying past or crashing to the ground in explosions of rock.
“Crap” he cursed, shielding himself from the debris as he looked back to the tribe.
They’d split into two groups, the rear filled with various men and women preparing fire spells, whilst the others rushed forward, roaring as mana poured of their bodies. He turned to run, but slowed, spotting the holes that’d been blown in the cloud layer, a blinding storm of magic and raw power raging beneath as men and women fought in the sky.
Going down there alone just looked like suicide. But he couldn’t stay here.
What then? What could he do? Wait for Daen? Run in circles around the mountain? Plead for mercy that he wasn’t supposed to be here, and he’d made some huge mistake?
Fight you idiot, a voice shouted in the back of his mind. You signed up to fight and protect. Fight!
Heart hammering in his chest, he poured more power into his magical body and turned to his opponents, the sudden change catching them off guard. The forward most group slowed, readying themselves as more bursts of fire rained towards him from the rear.
He slammed a foot against the ground, and raised Daen’s sword, letting even more power flood through him and the weapon as his body glowed, his chest burning hot. Then, with a single leap, carried forth by a panicked burst of power from his skill, he jumped forwards, soaring over the attacks easily, before slamming back to the ground.
The tribe immediately began shouting amongst themselves, the front group slowing to a stop as he continued forwards. Instantly more attacks of fire, shot towards him, though he avoided them easily, the effort noticeably less organised. Then, as he continued leaping around, dodging attack after attack, the attacking group retreated, running back in an unorganised mess.
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He reached them and, in an instant, it was a frenzy. His sword clanging against clubs as shards of wood splintered outwards in sprays. A mess of guttural shouts, cries and roars. Clubs and axes that swung dangerously close to him, some dodged and some blocked, sending shudders through his fingers as he fought keep a hold of a sword.
As his skill began to struggle he pulled away quickly, letting the constant outpour cease for a moment as he took a breath. He came to a stop a distance away from them, breathing heavily as booms echoed off in the distance and the air above, the occasional flash of light temporarily casting the mountain in shadow. But he ignored it, focusing on the attackers in front of him.
A trio stood a head of him, slightly away from the group. Some of them had been cut, but none harmed badly. Caleb breathed heavily, his hands trembling as he watched the three. Then a barrage of fire came from behind. He raised his skill once again, and dodged easily, landing to the ground his eyes still fixed to trio as they returned to the rest of the tribe.
They were the ones to watch out for. The strongest. And yet, in the small skirmish he’d felt it. He was faster than them. They were larger, but he could cover more ground and match their strength. Up close the fire from the rear was useless.
He could beat them. He could win.
But he’d stopped. He’d stopped because the suddenness and absurdity of his situation hadn’t faded. As the sky shook, mountain trembled, and mana warred, something had shifted within him. Before his had been the only chaos. His fights anomalies in the wider world. But here, he was surrounded by it. By chaos and destruction so great his mind almost refused to register it. Here only conflict existed. There was nothing to protect except his own life. Nothing forcing his hand.
And now he was panicking. Afraid of what he had to. Afraid of what he’d become a part of.
But the trial had prepared him for this. Even if a part of him didn’t want to, this was for the greater good. Wasn’t it?
They may have looked human, but he could feel it somehow. Just like the space all around, they were different. Alien in all the ways that mattered. Just like all the monsters he’d killed. Just like Ekhut. Just like Arithorson.
And yet he remained here, separate from them.
He dodged another blast of fire, cursing himself as his chest burned and the memories of the trial flashed through his mind. Of fire, blood, and blades.
A sickness rolled through his stomach at his own hesitation.
What was he doing? He had to kill them. For Kana, Ryan, and everyone else who hadn’t made it this far, who’d died preparing people like him for this. He couldn’t let their deaths be in vain. There was something to protect. This was to protect his home and his people. This was to save the universe.
He clenched the hilt of Daen’s blade, gritting his teeth as his core came alive in a way that defied the space, the flickers of fire and flame growing into a thrum that shook his body, illuminating the air around him and the sword with a golden glow.
A blast of fire shot towards him and cut through it, the mana dispersing instantly as it met his blade. Then he leapt forward, practically flying across the ground with a single step.
The leader cried out, jumping forwards as his axe glowed green. Axe met and sword, and then the leader was dead, his body in two. Others cried out, clubs and stone axes flying towards him as he knocked them aside, cutting through the tribesmen as they screamed. A wave of fire washed over them all, but he remained unharmed, the heat painful or only a moment before it faded as he continued to cut.
And then it was over.
He breathed heavily, coming to a stop as various notifications scrawled across his visions. He let out a breath before looking to himself. The golden aura of energy still surrounded him, almost unconsciously maintained. His skill no longer felt restricted, the warmth in his chest comforting instead of burning. He felt good. His mind was clear. Focused.
For the first time in a while the lingering pain in his side had faded completely. He felt he had a purpose. The mountain shook again, and he turned, looking further down. There, hundreds of men and women fought in a near constant explosion of mana, light and sound, the mountain’s surface desecrated. Beyond them – in the sky, legions of people flew around, explosions igniting the sky as they fell by the dozen and the sky darkened.
Then he looked behind him, further up the mountain, as more fought amongst themselves, hundreds of the Moshaic unnamed outnumbering the Yildaric Knights. They were struggling, falling back to the strength of the hundreds. With a new determination, his uncertainty forgotten, he rushed forward, sword at the ready.
Then he was amongst the unnamed, sword held high as he danced about, cutting and slashing as a wash of noise surrounded him. Mana, blood, screams, skills and spells. The raw chaos of battle.
And he fought through it, burning brighter with each swing, each victory, a certainty sweeping through him that was unfamiliar but not unwelcome. Then he was beside two others, one whose blood flowed around them crackling with energy as it cut and slashed at opponents, and the other who released shockwave bursts from their hands, blowing back opponents with ease.
They looked grateful to see him, the power of swings blasting back opponents and reducing the pressure from the enemies surrounding.
[There’s too many! We need to go!] lightning blood shouted over the chaos.
[Downwards!] shockwave cried. [To the mountain base!]
Caleb didn’t need to be told twice, moving together in unison with the two, as they fought towards the rest of their comrades.
Then one of the knights cried out with a panicked awe.
[Great mother!]
Caleb glanced back, catching their expression as they looked to the sky. Others around them did too, the fighting grinding to a halt. Caleb turned, looking up and his eyes widened.
The largest portal he’d ever seen appeared; it’s size so great its scale was hard to judge. It glowed a radiant green, and a deep unnatural sound carried through the air, seemingly both in Caleb’s head and outside it. Then the hand of a creature reached through, grabbing at the edge of the portal, as something moved to pull itself forward. But the hand enough was alone, it’s mere presence darkening reality itself, the atmosphere shifting as warning messages scrawled across his vision.
[Warning: Sarukar the Death - First Great Azal has entered combat]
His glow flickered for a moment then faded slightly, reduced to a thin line that covered the outside of his form. With a shaky breath, he gulped as hundreds around them muttered to themselves. The distant booms and echoes faded, as the fights in all domains ground to an instant halt. Then hundreds were shouting and crying out. Not in anger, but fear. Then they were fleeing, running past Caleb and the others battle forgotten.
Caleb kept his sword raised, prepared for enemies to rush forward, but none came. He looked between the fleeing Moshaic soldiers and the creature of pure evil in the sky, uncertain. Foreign mana continued to rage all around him, people using skills to leap away as some were sucked into blue portals. He looked back to the two other knights.
“Do we run?” Caleb said.
[I don’t know. We-]
Lightning blood didn’t have time to finish the answer, sliced in two as shockwave pushed Caleb away. Caleb hit the floor, and instantly felt something change within him, the clear feeling fading from his mind as an all to familiar panic returned. He pulled himself up just in time to watch shockwave get dismembered and kicked face first into the stampede before the sword wielding woman turned to him.
She muttered something, then leapt at him sword pointed forwards.
For a moment time seemed to slow down. He wouldn’t be able to dodge. She was going to stab him in the face, and he was going to die. And there was something wrong with the sword. If he allowed it to touch him, it would hurt him in a way that would make his death worse. His final moments would be torment of the form, both magically and physical.
With a desperate cry he raised his fist forward, almost pleading as power flooded his body and released from his arm.
Heat. An unimaginable heat coursed through his arm as every fibre of his physical body screamed at him in protest. His mind, white hot with pain, only screamed at him. He’d made a mistake. A horrible mistake.
He’d forgotten just how painful his first punch was.
Caleb gasped, reopening his eyes. His body was cold, and he lay on the floor his left arm mangled, and his suit jacket torn to shreds. He lay in a steaming crater; the echoes of a deep and distant rumble audible in the distance.
As he remembered himself, panic flooded him and he sat up, cursing as he clutched his broken arm. He looked around. The stampede atop the mountain had parted, hundreds vaporised by the explosion. But as he stared across the crater, the woman in strange grey armour held her now broken sword, still standing. She was unaffected. No, not unaffected, her mana was different. Weaker. But she was still alive. Almost unharmed.
She rushed forward, now unobstructed by the crowd. He cursed, struggling to pull himself up as a tiredness swept his clumsy limbs. He forced himself off the ground, gasping before stumbling away. No use. Wouldn’t make it. He turned, brandished his knife, and readied himself, heart beating harder than ever before.
Don’t die. You can’t die. Don’t die. Don’t.
Then she was upon him, her power flaring for a moment. And that primal fear was back, every piece of his magical sense warning him of the skill that coated her sword. But he wouldn’t be able to dodge. All his senses, warning him, telling him to avoid it were pointless now. He had no choice but to face it with his own. No matter how weak he was.
Memories flooded through him as his core brightened the flames of life burning hot throughout his body, and his last words to his sister echoing through his mind.
With a sudden roar of power, he met the blade in mid-air, his heart pounding as it weighed against him with a heaviness he’d never felt before. Not physical, but magical. His core strained his power twisting as it burned in a way he’d never felt before. But he held, staring back at the woman, her expression filled with shock. Then she overpowered him with raw strength, throwing him back to the floor before stabbing down at his chest.
Shit
Then a burst of golden red fire washed through the air, the woman evaporating along with her blade. Caleb shielded his eyes, waiting for the fire to take him, but he felt no heat. Then Daen was at his side.
[Are you alright?!] Daen said, grabbing him. Caleb nodded, breathing hard, too tired to speak. Daen looked him over, his gaze filled with panic, before he froze. [You blocked it properly… you’re not even hurt! You blocked it properly!]
Caleb looked to the man confused, before blinking hard, laying back down as a sudden exhaustion took him.
[Caleb? Caleb? You alright?]
“No, no it’s- go. Fight” Caleb muttered.
[It’s alright] Daen said, chuckling to himself. [Can’t you feel it? We’ve practically already won.]
Caleb’s mana sense was far too out of whack to sense anything, his mind and magical body reeling from strain of whatever it was he’d done. He didn’t understand how they’d won when that creature was about to join the battlefield, but Daen had no reason to lie. Daen instantly pulled him up, righting him as his mind spun.
[See?] Daen said, pointing to the now fading green giant of a portal, the hand gone. [Everaan pulled a fast one on all of us. Had me for a second there. Crazy bastard.]
“Wait, don’t-” Caleb muttered, grabbing Daen to steady himself. “Need to lie down. Think I’m gonna pass out”
Daen looked to him laughed, slapping him on the back. Caleb winced, clutching his arm.
[Look at you! Singularity already!] he laughed. [Just pulled it off in combat! You’re a natural!]
Caleb simply struggled for breath his shoulders slumped in relief.
[Do you understand Caleb? How incredible this is?]
“No” he mumbled, struggling to formulate words. “Is there- healer. Arm really hurts.”
[Battle of Dominion: Yun Evryd Dys against Moshaoler]
[Yildaric Guard of the Akashic vs The Unnamed of the Moshaic]
[Akashic victory]
[Congratulations]
[You have levelled up]
A cheer rung out all around them as Daen laid him back down, patting Caleb on the chest as he wilted with relief.
[I didn’t even say anything] Daen laughed [What were you even thinking about? What did you even do?]
“Home” Caleb muttered, “Told… told Kayla I’d be back on weekends.”
Daen burst out laughing again, before looking to the sky.
[I told them you'd be amazing. Singularity already.... we've got a legend in the making here. Right. Now, let’s get you a healer.]