Chapter 47: A Strike Against the Seed of an Empire

The moment Diana was ripped away from the others, she immediately decided to reconnect with Keigo. As far as her detection could tell, he wasn't very far, but it struck her fast that she wasn't going to reach him. She couldn't. Even though he seemed to be moving casually, walking toward the center of the domain perhaps, he wasn't going so fast that she shouldn't have been able to catch up. It made her come to a complete stop and think about the situation. They came in and were split up, and while that seemed like teleportation she was realizing there was more to it.

“We could see the domain for starters. Then Leyu had to open it. I guess that means is some sort of spatial magic?” The kind she had only ever heard of.

There was a lesson in her history books about a siege on the witches to the west. The kingdom's force was large and fully equipped, but a campaign that should have been won in a few weeks was lost in a month. Starvation, exhaustion, madness. Many of the soldiers didn't make it through the Witch's Forest, and the ones that somehow made it back were forever haunted by the experience. Every twist and turn belonged to those women. Every bite of fruit was only allowed because it let things worm into your mind. Maybe this experience wasn't precisely like that, but it was enough so that Diana realized she couldn't win this fight.

"I don't have the magic tools for that and I don't have Leyu's magic." Tools like protective or guiding charms. Maybe something enchanted that would always show her the way. She was just a girl with, as she had learned, pretty simple energy magic, and for the first time, she wondered how it got her this far.

“I need to do more.”

From a pocket crystal, she produced a pack and emptied it on the ground in front of her.

She found strips of wood punched through with strings, a small notebook, and a sharp piece of glass. Flipping through the notebook, she went through page after page of runes she had written down to properly learn to make a runic ballad. Or at least a tune, at least a simple bit of magic she could depend upon again and again. If she got it right, she could make a nice pair of runic knuckles, but the answer still eluded her. At least, before Leyu’s lessons it did.

"Runes have an effect…" She found one that usually meant blast. "Based on what Leyu said, this rune is probably formed of shallow wind resonance. It's a kinetic spell." She flipped a page. "These runes change the strength of the blast." Usually written on to blasting canes, where you placed your thumb depending on the level. "What mana would that be? Flora could mean growth…" She looked at the domain around her for that. "So a tune or a ballad is about a spell's structure then…if I just write blast and medium growth together, it does nothing…but what if I say, write something like this…"

She flipped to a blank page and recalled her runic principle. She wrote a blast rune, then a small circle, adding a complete stop. She wrote a medium-growth rune and a small circle after that. From that circle she drew a line back to the top of blast, and a line from it back down to the circle. She drew lines in between each of the marks and tore the page from the notebook. Holding it against her palm, she held her hand up.

“Runic weapons just need intention so…” She thought about it, imagining a blast shooting from her hand.

Nothing happened.

“What are you missing, girl?” She balled that up and tossed it in her pack. Another experiment failed…but if nothing was attacking her, she could try again. “Maybe it’s in how runes form…”

There were a lot of them to mix and match, collected from all over the Greenlands. Northern, southern, coastal, mountainous. Different runes could have the same effect and different alphabets could overlap. This was how they realized runes weren't an ancient language but what did that tell her? She wondered…how did different symbols come to mean the same thing. She wrote a mountainous blast rune and a coastal blast rune. They didn't even look alike, but side by side, she noticed one similarity. There was a curve to each. On the mountainous one, it curled around a diagonal line. On the coastal one, it curled around the straightening line of another.

“A blast from the mountain versus a blast from the sea!” She beamed. And traced each line again, paying attention to the order of the strokes. “It’s not enough to just copy the rune, each line of it is apart of the magic. It’s a spellword, but not a word. It’s…” How should she put it? “An observation of magic in nature. It’s ancient. A boulder falling down the mountain seems like a mountain blast when you don’t know about erosion and stuff. A wave seems like a blast from the sea when you don’t know about storms…”

There was a story in each glyph, she curled the first line of the coastal blast up from the flat surface of the sea into a crashing wave. She drew the sharp side of the mountain launching a boulder at you. Holding both papers in either hand, she pushed in her intentions and blasts fired out. The paper burned away, but that was always going to happen, and she was too giddy to care.

"I figured it out!" She shouted and flipped through her notebook again. Now that she had the right answer, she thought she knew how to make her knuckles. She was beyond excited, and more than ready to test the final product…

Elsewhere…

Rocwen puppetted the piece of himself through the domain, moving as fast and free as the wind or water. In that regard he was very much the same, and in watching Chiaki fight he had come to remember that. The spiritual power she drew upon was not in this nation. To even bring it into the domain could have a monumental effect, because as separated as they were, they were still a part of this world. That was why she had to beat the spirit in front of her. That was why he could be so easily ignored, and he’d use that to his advantage. If he did not act, the Yoshiki sect might lose, but this battle reminded him of a conversation with an old friend.

Ruelin.

He was another of his kin within the dynasty, prone to moments of intense isolation and more intense discovery. Rocwen could barely remember a time when Ruelin joined the company of more than two people, but one such memory stuck in his mind in the fondest way.

It happened after a big and victorious battle. Rocwen had a handsome body at the time, a strong form, long flowing hair, a man who would have been popular, even without military acclaim. It was not uncommon for him to find himself in bed with multiple women, and it was no different at that time either. He lay with them all smiles and easy jokes, when Ruelin burst into his room, eyes burning bright.

“Rocwen, I knew you would be here!” Ruelin’s body was younger, newly adult. His hair was shorter and he didn’t have half the hard muscles that Rocwen’s body had gained.

“Ruelin. I would take umbrage that you barged in without asking, but I have made up my mind. You are womanly enough, we can make room in my bed for you.” That brought the humor back to his company, but Ruelin ignored it in favor of unrolling a scroll. Illustrations covered it, as well as script here and there, too small for Rocwen to discern. “This is…?”

“A new diagram about our kind! I’ve been thinking about the future of the dynasty and how we can assure they always remain the strongest military. Magic wise, we have our challenges, like the Spirit Princess. I don’t think even you could fight her directly without trouble, but I deduced that you wouldn’t have to!”

Rocwen sat up, taking in his words more intently.

“By nature, we are closer to ghost than spirits or even demons. We aren’t entirely of this realm and have no issue with degrees of presence. A weak demon is weak because enough of it isn’t in this realm. A strong spirit is strong because its place in this realm has been strengthen. We, however, are normally at a nominal place.”

“This doesn’t sound particularly empowering.”

“Not on the surface no, but then you think about how we are different than ghost. Ghost need spectral energy to remain part of this world. You could say that the more haunted a place is, the more a ghost can remain in it, but haunted places are transformed into spiritual places by the living.”

“This is all very complicated, Rocwen.” One of the women hanging off him said. Rocwen brought a finger to her lip and ushered Ruelin to go on.

"We, however, don't need such things. By virtue of being astral beings, our presence is a question not of transformation, but of consciousness versus unconsciousness. Having a body helps us choose consciousness. Being acknowledged helps us choose consciousness. So long as we don't become a part of the sphere again, we remain conscious."

“Which means?”

“We are living energy. And this means that, were you to end up in a fight with the Spirit Princess, all you’d ever have to do is overtake one of her spirits!”

That was the type of discovery that would one day let them conquer her, but the chance to get there had never come. Still, by Ruelin's words, Rocwen just needed to find a spirit. If he could find a spirit, he would have a body, and with a body, he'd change the trajectory of this conflict. It'd have to be a strong enough spirit to make a difference, however, and it took him until Chiaki felled her second target before he found the right one.

It was something of a scarecrow. A leather cowl hung beneath a pointed straw hat as its lean body stood leaning on a scythe. Wooden fingers curled around the tool as it held itself up, looking almost like it served a purpose beyond the carnage of slain spirits around it. Rocwen's presence touched it and he felt his mind fill it, remembering the sensation of flesh on land, of weight, of the subtle tug of wind against his body. He shook its poorly jointed limbs, stretched, dropped to the ground, rolled over, and pushed itself back up. Controlling it did not feel like proper flesh and bone, but he could recognize how useful it would be. Especially the power beneath his fingertips. He knelt and plunged a finger into the dirt, filling it with a seed of his essence. This domain would make that seed grow fast, and when it bared fruit, he could move on to his next step.

“So Ruelin, I get what you’re saying and all, but our leader has us more concerned with siphoning astral power. What do you have to say to that?”

“More Astral energy will definitely make us stronger, and I don’t think my discovery goes against his plans. If anything, it tells us there are other ways to do it beyond the Astral sphere. What if we could use our essence in tandem with another power. What if, we’re significantly more powerful than we think!”

"What if…" The scarecrow spoke. "We could grow the fruit of our power and fatten ourselves on that." Rocwen decided he'd find a way to bring Ruelin back.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

“What if I don’t let you do that?” Came a woman’s voice. He turned golden flickers onto Diana, approaching defiantly behind him…

She made up her mind after finishing her experiment. If she couldn’t race to Keigo’s side the normal way, she’d follow his path and meet at the center of the domain. They probably had to go there in the first place to figure out what the sect was doing, and if she ran into hostile spirits along the way, it’d give her a chance to see how her new knuckles reacted with her magic.

Between them and the gloves Leyu had given her, she felt like she had grown a lot already. All she needed was something to better help her understand her detection power, and she’d leave the domain as a completely different girl. She was using that ability now to see where the others were. Kiara was with Shuraat, while Keigo, Danson, and Tsukee moved alone.

As she continued, she noticed the small spirits around her entering her awareness too. They felt different from her friends, like the feeling between touching stone and running your hand through mist. In that same way, they let her detect the whole domain and she could feel how something at the heart of it was weaker. She wondered for a moment if this was what sensing spiritual energy was like until she felt something that wasn’t quite the same.

If normal spirits were like running your hand through mist, this one was like running your hand through the water of a fjord, specifically while you stood on a tropical beach. It was too stark, too sharp. It made her turn to it right away, and she almost wasn’t surprised as she approached and it grew closer.

Soon, she found the scarecrow, and the slain spirits around it told her it was hostile. She was already ready to strike, but then it moved and spoke and she knew this thing was more than just an infection.

“You are not a member of the sect.” It replied to her.

“And you’re not just a spirit. But you’re not a demon either. I guess that makes you the astral wraith Kiara saw.”

“And I guess that makes you an ally of that scarlet-eyed girl.” It whipped its scythe around behind it. “I’ll give you a chance to pick a better ally. You will not want to be on her side by the end of this day.”

Diana crossed her arms. “I mean, even if I didn’t, I’d still want to be on Keigo’s side so one way or another, I’m getting in your way.”

The scarecrow laughed. “Where are you from, girl? Your skins a bit lighter than the foreigners I remember.”

“The Greenlands…but I don’t see how that’ll help you out.”

“Greenlands…perhaps you mean the old Angel country. I heard the natives had taken to calling it something else.”

“Oh you’re really old.”

“Old enough for you to understand the difference in the scale of our worlds.” It turned the scythe as if to harvest.

Diana clenched her fist as the striker gloves wove around her hand. "Yeah. Your scale works on some outdated information." She exploded inward, already feeling the magic playing with the runes.

Rocwen jerked away from the straight punch she led with, but not the backhand that chased after him. He lifted his scythe and it rang against it, sending vibrations through his wooden arms. A sharp sidekick slammed a glowing foot into his chest, and he shuddered as she threw a reverse.

“Striker Crack!” Pollen erupted from his head as she connected, and even without true flesh his mind swam. “Striker Whip!” Roundhouse, spinning roundhouse. His body crashed and bounced off the ground. “Too slow to move?” Her guard came up as she chased after him.

"Yes, but I have fought faster." The pollen clung to her. "Nightmare breath." It seeped into her skin and she slowed down.

Diana's heart quickened, her sweat came cold, and her steps felt too heavy as she came to a stop. Rocwen rose and it felt like the air around him roared as he lifted his scythe above his head. It struck the ground instead of her, and life around her melted away. Rocwen lifted something that looked more like an ax than a scythe, big enough to tear her body apart. He swung to do just that. She exploded backward.

“Good reflexes.” He chuckled.

Diana breathed and breathed, calming herself down. “Fear magic…?”

“Among other things. Are your regrets sinking in yet?”

“Striker Drumming, Second Verse.” Diana replied.

Rocwen’s weapon suddenly slammed into his body. He felt something smash his chest and something else smash his face. The feeling was familiar as he was smashed back to the ground. Diana smiled.

"First Verse. Sealing my aura behind me to delay an attack. Second Verse. Sealing a spell in a target that goes off when the seal breaks."

Rocwen pushed himself up and hissed.

Diana exploded inward again, sending her intentions into the wooden knuckles on her right hand. Electricity rolled off of them, and she swung for his face. “Lightning Strike.” Each layer of her spell carried lightning with it, a crackle of it exploding as Rocwen’s head snapped back.

She drew back, breathed deep, and went back in with a rush, fist, foot, and elbow flying as she laid into him. Rocwen was several feet away when she was done. She jumped out of his cloud as he picked himself up.

"Shocking second verse." She called and watched as his body jerked around and lit up. "If you were alive this would be so devastating."

Rocwen’s body simmered. “This world has changed immensely I see.” She could hear things that would be broken bones on a normal person snap back in place. “Magic has changed immensely… In this era a combat mage can be the same thing as a martial artist. No incantation, no need for protection…” He was clearly coming to a conclusion. “This world shall make a perfect empire.” She could hear the unseen smile.

“Well buddy, I got bad news for you. The line for world domination is long.”

Were this a normal person, that onslaught would have been enough. She would have overwhelmed the effigy with that first flurry and did her opponent in with the second verse. With this thing though…well, if she had any doubt about why gyo was necessary for fighting spirits, she didn't have them now. To beat an opponent like this, she had to punch smarter, not harder and she didn't think it was going to make the next assault easier.

Rocwen seemed to take in a deep breath and exhaled it from his body with a cloud of pollen. The cloud wrapped around him, hovering around his body like a glittering scarf. It was familiar, Diana thought. Like depictions of monsters that once terrorized the Triumvirate.

“Shall we try this again?” Rocwen spun his scythe. Diana shifted her stance and exploded in.

As if it were a stick in his hand, Rocwen spun the scythe, a counterclockwise saw coming up for Diana's chin. She stopped herself short of getting gored, and duck quick as he spun for her neck. A backflip moved her back as it came down and drank the life from the ground. This time, instead of growing, the scythe simply glowed as Rocwen knelt, returning the life with a ripple.

"Nightmare thorn." Several thorny vines shot up at her. She dodged most but the rest tore slim scars into her skin. The fear seized her, her breath getting caught in her chest, her body freezing as the scythe came around.

The tip of it pierced her side as she raised her leg against the rest, kicking it back and taking a deep breath as she stomped in. A straight, a cross, several jabs, and a reverse. Her fist flew after the scarecrow as he danced again, leaving trails of cloud in his wake. She held her breath as his glowing eyes brightened.

“Nightmare Breath.” It still seeped in, falling under her skin as her eyes went wide and sweat ran down her body.

The scythe spun down slashing her face as she threw herself back. She rose, breathed, and tried to fight against the fear but her muscles made her run as he came after her again. The scythe swung around and she hit the ground. As he stomped and vines shot up, she blasted into the air and pointed a finger.

“Striker shot!” She fired, almost choking on the spell. Still, it missed as Rocwen spun on his scythe, bouncing off it to come after her.

"Does the line still seem long to you?" His leather cowl tore into a jagged smile.

She gritted her teeth and launched her knee, smashing it into his face as his scythe came up.

Rocwen crashed hard to the ground and she came down clumsily, trying to keep her footing even as she fought against the fear in her blood. Smarter not harder, but that was hard to grasp while feeling like a cornered rabbit. Rocwen rose shakily and that itself seemed to flare her fear. She tried to breathe it out again, but it held fast, and her arms felt heavy as she brought them up.

“This form isn’t up to my standards, but it has its strengths. This business of fear is especially effective, wouldn’t you say.” The scythe tore up dirt as he dragged it behind him.

Diana opened her mouth to reply, but her tongue felt dry. She closed it without thinking of a retort and closed her eyes instead.

Rocwen laughed. "Ah, I have seen this before. Fight fear by closing off your senses. No sight and you don't have to feel it mounting. To counter I have to talk, make noise, and give you everything you need to know I'm growing closer." The sound of tearing dirt disappeared. "But I don't need your fear to cut you down." Those words were final as he came in, the sound and sight of him gone but his presence still strong against her mind.

She could feel his long thin body, the monstrous grin on his face. She could feel the cloud wrapped around his body and even the long scythe in his hands. Even with her eyes closed she could sense this false spirit's approach and as he grew closer, she could sense where spirit ended and astral wraith began. There came a stop, and then an abrupt spin, the scythe whipped up from the ground and she was certain it was coming for her neck. She backstepped at the last moment, certain it threw his balance off and her fist glowed brightly as they flew.

Jab. Cross. Jab. Cross. Elbow up, elbow in. Spinning kick to the head, back kick to the body. Reverse. Jab. An uppercut to start again. She used its slender body to her advantage, keeping it stunned and close as the onslaught went on. The cloud rolled off her skin and deepened her fear, but through her detection, it was just her and the thing inside that she was striking. She threw another reverse punch and laid her spell in.

"Striker Crack!" And this time his body flew, far and fast as all of her force hit it. She risked opening her eyes and saw him rise where he crashed.

"Relying on tricks that do not work is a sign of a cornered enemy." He hissed his voice not the least bit strained by her barrage. She made a great effort to swallow her fear and let out a shaky laugh.

"Then I guess I wasn't cornered after all." She could feel her seals coming apart, one placed onto of another, pushing her spell deeper and deeper into it. Exorcising was about breaking a spirit's reishi, right? Well, she certainly didn't have the skill for that, but she thought this would be a good alternative. "Striker Festival!" She called as they broke at once, magic swelling out from Rocwen's depths, blowing him apart in a display of lightning and thunderous blasts.

On a physical opponent, that would never work, but the fear leaving her told her that it worked here. The spiritual part of it was gone, but she could still feel the wraith, returned to that half-nothing state without a body to possess. She could feel it falling into the ground in front of her, and she realized it was stronger behind her too. She turned sharply to find a fruit bending a small tree to the side with its weight. Immediately she knew she had to destroy it, but as she stepped forward to do so it disappeared!

No, she disappeared, moved by the mage behind this spatial spell. She cursed but pulled out her wanderer’s note and sent messages to the others.

“I don’t know what it’s up to, but that astral wraith is on the move.”

[Chapter 47 ends…]