Chapter 62

Will of the Sword Spirit (I)

The small group of five stood at the base of yet another massive sword, one that curved eerily forward and flattened into a clearly visible platform. Despite the body of the blade being barely thirty-forty feet wide, the flattened platform was massive, retaining its tip-like shape, spanning at the very least a mile from their quick estimates.

Primeval Blade Mountain -- though Cain had never seen it in flesh, he'd seen it countless times on the video. It wasn't a long trek by any means, but he still had the group rest for half an hour before ascending, despite the fact that they had taken their time getting there -- four days in total -- as he had them practice whenever they had free time and were in a relatively safe spot.

The four had somewhat hardened expressions as they knew they were heading toward the first boss battle of the entire place, and that it would be vastly different than other fights they had in here. This was especially the case for Emma, Diya, and Jamal whose faintly buried demons from the Nightmare fight began to slowly surge.

Though Cain had noticed it, there was little he could do -- this was the sort of thing, a barrier so to say, that they would have to fight through on their own. All he could do is stay by their side and watch them, encouraging them.

After all, this would be their first major fight after the fact, and it would be even weirder if they were roaring to go.

Emma led the charge, Senna and Jamal flanking her with Diya and Cain walking the back. A heavy silence hung over them as they made their way up the sloped blade, the faintly echoing sounds of their feet clanking against the blade's surface creating a strangely melodic symphony.

Roughly ten minutes later, they crossed the last step and landed on top of the massive platform. It was clear, almost handmade to be an arena for dueling. However, there were dozens of dents and dips across the blade’s surface that were potential disasters if people weren’t aware of them. Cain frowned upon seeing them, wondering how others would fight under these circumstances.

At the very center of the platform, sitting cross-legged, was a topless, white-haired man. His hair was quite long, reaching his waist, disheveled altogether, hiding the face beneath as his head was lowered.

A long sword, roughly three feet in length, rested just above the man’s knees, hovering in a hum, rotating unto itself slowly, a faint sheen of white covering its marginally rusted surface. The man wore tattered, blueish trousers and was barefoot, the soles of his feet scarred almost beyond recognition.

In spite of all of that, the most striking part of his appearance was the insanely thick chain wound around the man’s right ankle, slithering around his body several times over, appearing welded into the blade itself.

Emma was the first to come to a stop, followed shortly after by everyone else. Cain examined the man sitting there and confirmed it was the same as he watched on the video, while the other four stared pensively at him, the nerves getting the better of them. The silence was broken by the notification windows that popped in front of the five.

//Sword Spirit observes the newcomers with curiosity!

...

Sword Spirit has accepted the challenge!

Prepare for the battle!//

The man shuddered suddenly and began to slowly stand up, the chain wound around his ankle clanking all the while. He kept his head down throughout, the blade that was hovering above his knees rising slowly into the air in a parallel. He stood up straight, lifting his head slowly as the strands of hair wiggled under the gust of wind, shuffling the long hair sideways and revealing the aged, wrinkled face with a black blindfold rounding the man’s eyes.

“... humans,” the lips did not move, yet the man spoke, his voice echoing throughout the platform. “Welcome. I pray our fight be honorable.”

The man bowed toward them suddenly, clasping his hands in front of his chest. As he wound back up, Cain noticed that the man was extending his right arm to grab the sword, realizing it was beginning.

“Arms up, Emma!” he called out rapidly. “Jamal, Senna, to the flanks! Diya, buff everyone and stand behind me!”

His voice and commands seemed to revitalize the group as they moved virtually by instinct, taking up their positions. Emma ran to the front, breaking out into a full sprint and summoning out her warhammer and the shield in concert, gripping the former tightly as he wound it full, ready to slam it into the ground.

Jamal had already begun charging Mana and converting it into starlight, his whole frame shimmering in the milky white, while Senna had taken out her whole arsenal and had it at a ready, buzzing above her head as she ran acrescent around the man.

Cain charged Creation and Earth into his feet and slammed them abruptly, shaking the whole platform as the man-sized splinter of metal found itself ripped out and heaved into an angular rain that fell toward the man.

It was then that the man gripped the blade’s handle and shuffled it out of the scabbard. The sword cried out joyously, a tsunami of ghastly-gray smoke billowing out in all directions. Just then, Emma slammed her warhammer not at the man itself, but in front of him, shaking the whole platform and causing tiny, pebble-sized shards of the blade to fly out like bullets at the man.

The latter shuffled gently to the side and evaded it, slicing his blade to the side, meeting Jamal's strike head-on. The starlight was immediately snuffed out as Jamal felt a force akin to a tornado blow against his chest, caving it in and causing him to cough up a mouthful of blood as he found himself aflight back, like a kite without strings.

Cain charged Wind into his hand even before the two clashed, immediately whipping his arm out and preventing Jamal from getting kicked off the platform by gently slowing down his flight and grounding him. In the meantime, he charged Creation, Nature, and Water in concert, roaring and slamming his right palm forward, open.

Hundreds of vines, like snakes, dug out of his fingers and flew out like chains at the man. By then, Senna had also attacked, sending out a triangle-shaped force of ten blades. The man, without moving his feet, bent his body just a few inches back as he swung the blade forward, a torrent of sharp winds exploding from the blade’s surface, blowing forward and cutting vines as though they were made of paper.

Grunting, Cain charged Creation, Wind, and Body as he heaved forward and tossed his body into the upcoming torrent, slamming his palms in front of his chest. Winds around him stiffed for a moment before exploding out into a frontal cone, drowning out the torrent.

Emma swung her warhammer then, drawing the man’s attention and forcing him to cancel his follow-up attack, dodging the strike of the warhammer and spinning in place, raising his leg and kicking her squarely into her chin, snapping her jaw halfway through her face to the. Crying out in pain and horror, she barely registered the wound before being tossed into the sky, heading toward the edge.

Cain, before even landing back onto the ground, charged Creation and Wind once again, coalescing a hand-shaped gust that gently brought her to a halt while Diya’s golden shower healed her up. Despite that, by the time she landed, Emma was still shaking, her eyes wide like saucers.

“JAMAL, BUY A SECOND!” Cain roared as the man charged forward toward them. Jamal had already tossed himself at the front. By then, he’d also fully charged his sword’s second active, sucking up half his Mana and transforming it into Starlight. His body vanished, turning into brief flashes of light as he exploded into an onslaught of unstoppable attacks -- yet... the man appeared unfazed.

He would occasionally just bend his head, occasionally take a step back, and sometimes deflect the strike with his own sword. By the end of the 33-attack barrage, Jamal realized... he hadn’t squared a single hit. Though he’d dealt some damage, he didn’t land a single attack onto the man’s body.

In the meantime, Cain slapped Emma’s behind, startling her awake as she glanced at him, mostly confused.

“What are you freezing up for?” he asked, grinning nonchalantly. “I’m right here, as is Diya. Think of this as your training. If things go to shitters... I’ll deal wit hit. I promise. Now, get your fine ass out there and show me what you got.”

“... you have some weird ways of inspiring people.” she said, looking at him strangely.

“Not people,” Cain shook his head. “Just you.”

“...” chuckling and rolling her eyes, Emma took a deep breath and charged to the front, immediately replacing Jamal while drawing the man’s attacks onto herself.

Senna continued attacking all the while, but her lack of refined control was exposed as the man would only need to make minimal movements to evade her, frustrating her greatly. Diya’s heals were being timed better and better, Cain realized, as she hardly missed the beat in keeping both Jamal and Emma topped off.

It’s a bit different facing him directly, Cain realized, frowning. Those guys... weren't as bad as I thought. Though their levels were roughly similar to ours, their skill levels... were at least a layer or two above.

Cain charged Blood and Body abruptly as he raised his arms and shielded his head. A stray gust of wind sliced across, opening a massive wound that began bleeding profusely. Unprepared, Diya panicked while Cain grunted. You have time to try and get me while facing the three of them? Okay, okay, okay...

Grumbling a few curses, he charged Creation, Fire, Wind, and Arcane into his entire body that abruptly ceased having a human appearance. Infernal flames consumed him, raging wildly, as he roared and threw himself into the sky, flipping forward and extending one of his legs forward in the process. Every inch of the flames was sucked into his foot and shot through at the peak of its momentum.

Emma, Jamal, and Senna retreated in panic, cursing him out in the meantime, while the man ‘stared’ at the dragon-shaped, thirty-feet long burst of flames descending upon him like a bolt of lighting. He crouched and brought the sword parallel to his chest, holding it with both his hands. Right before the collision, he swung it upward, the sheer volume of sound getting sucked into temporary infinity as the collision of the two forces wrapped themselves together, distorting space.

The man quickly retreated back and began swinging his swords wildly around, creating a cage-like formation in front of him.

Cain rolled his eyes at the annoying defense and used the Amnesty Shield -- four times within a few breaths -- consuming almost 800 Mana in the process, and shielding everyone. Almost instinctively, Emma, Jamal, and Senna ducked closer to the shield while Diya ran over and hid behind Cain, just in time to miss the central collapse.

A deafening boom shook the world, elemental storm exploding in a sphere-like fashion, paddling over the surface and roaring into the infinite sky. Colors beyond measure washed like waves over the four shields, blowing well past them into the horizon. The sword beneath the collision... now had a hole roughly ten feet in diameter.

While everyone besides Cain stared in shock at the results of the collision, Cain's eyes were drawn to the man kneeling on the other end of the platform, his body bloodied, the blindfold undone, a pair of empty sockets staring hollowly at him. Cain instinctively checked the man’s health bar and realized that he only had 1/3rd left. Yeah, we’re definitely not challenging the Ruined King...

A mantra would quickly be established within the Towers -- one of the most important ‘rules’ that every Conqueror who wanted a long and prosperous career would follow. If the first boss of a raid or a dungeon could almost be killed by a single attack... the last boss of the whole thing can and likely will kill your entire party with a single attack.

“What are you looking around for like you’re witnessing some impromptu orgy?!” Cain charged Body into his throat and yelled at the three. “Can’t you see he’s on his knees?! Are you waiting for him to get up and recover?!”

Startled awake, Emma, Jamal, and Senna quickly scrambled to be the first to attack, but by now, the man had recovered and stood up. Even with evading and deflecting the trio's continued barrage, the hollow, black holes where eyes ought to be continued to stare at Cain, making him uncomfortable. It wasn't the fear of the man suddenly erupting with strength and killing him, as the gaze didn't seem to reflect that. It was something different... yet, if at all possible, even more goosebump-inducing than the threat of death. He’s... he’s not gonna ask me to become a host for the Spirit, right? Shit, knowing this place... that’s actually possible...