Battleforged
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Chapter 467 - Survival
🕑 Added 2024-10-18 04:00:03 +0000 UTCElonia’s eyes were haunted as she gazed to the south, where titanic flashes of light interspersed with awful fares of glooming darkness. The entire band of students desperately huddled within the floating force dome visibly shuddered when the air rang with screams that penetrated their skulls, no matter how desperately they held their ears.
“What is that god-awful noise??” Jack hissed, blinking back tears of blood.
“I fear our world has become the battlegrounds for powers beyond our ken,” said a slender purple-eyed youth who hadn’t bothered speaking before, haunted gaze riveted to the heavens flashing with unearthly colors high above.
Jack cursed under his breath. “Of course we’re ground zero for power-mad assholes duking it out. When the fuck do we ever catch a—what the hell is that?”
Senren trembled in Jack’s arms, though her frightened gaze became one of wide-eyed wonder. “It’s an angel. Look at it spread its wings!”
“Wings of fucking fire!” Yuki noted, as riveted as anyone else, though her hand quested for Richard’s own, wrapped in his arms, taking what bittersweet solace she could in this night of horror and wonder. Still, she couldn’t help flashing a wry smile. “So, just how fucked are we when angels are falling from the—shit!”
“Brace for impact!” Richard’s voice was a startled cry, turning to both Elonia and the Headmaster. “Brace yourselves NOW! This is going to be fucking—”
His words were cut off when air roared with a blinding flash of light so bright that their screams were drowned out in a hideous reverberating blur.
Elonia was on fire.
She felt her entire realm, an extension of her flesh, burning as if she had just been thrown into that orc pit that still gave her such nightmares. A pit she tried so hard to convince herself had only been a dream. Yet the agony she felt as she tried to consume an entire realm’s sudden spasm of pain while Wyrmwood roared desperate chants as deadly flaring light blazed from the south that Elonia could only pray wasn’t killing her people, light blocked with the triple layer of revenants warding the southward side of their fragile floating soap-bubble of a force field that could so easily pop, yet somehow held.
Held even as the air erupted in brilliant light.
Held, even as Elonia’s heart roared in her chest, dizzy with pain, filled with the awful certainty that if she didn’t hold fierce with absolutely everything she had that her entire realm would crumble…
Held, even as she felt the world twist and shake, the air erupting with the screams of her friends.
“What the fuck’s going on! Why is the land moving like that?”
“It’s an earthquake!”
“The world’s coming apart! We’re all dead!”
And still she held, even as she felt her consciousness coalesce into a single pinprick of blinding light…
Held, even as the air roared with the vile words of a psychotic monster who would gleefully tear free both her kingdom and her very soul, if he could.
“WHAT'S YOURS IS MINE, YOU PATHETIC WRETCH!”
Elonia wanted to scream, sensing the spiritual claws of her clan’s most reviled foe attempting to tear free her sovereignty, her people, her very soul free of her body.
A monster who claimed twisted rights of kinship.
A monster she refused any purchase upon her soul at all.
Because what Hollywood starlet hadn’t had to deal with predatory leeches popping out of the woodwork, scrabbling for whatever they could sweet-talk, swindle, or steel?
Fuck that.
With her dying breath, she’d give that vile monster that DARED to suggest he was her kin no purchase upon her soul or her realm at all.
****
“My liege, we are under attack!”
Prince Harry suppressed the awful chill in his heart as his sworn counselor fell to one knee before him. Harry gave the man a solemn nod, hand on the hilt of the sacred blade on his hip as his squires finished kitting him out in his full plate harness as he turned to his men, trembling in such fear in the heart of his throne room of vaulted ceilings, polished hardwood, and the whispered history of centuries of rulers before him.
Rulers that until very, very recently had been little more than figureheads as corrupt politicians tore free as much power and influence as they could from both the royal family and the people they were supposed to serve until a once proud nation had been reduced to chattel, denied all means of self-defense, even the right to speak their mind.
But all that had changed when Fate’s hand had struck midnight and ancient codicils and edicts had come into effect. A sovereign once more in truth, Harry’s father still had the grace to grant the twin houses both recognition and respect.
And what a mistake that had been, when too many lords and officials who ascended as System sanctioned Administrators that Harry had such high hopes would be a cut above their counterparts, betrayed them all in their final hour.
Before being utterly destroyed themselves.
“Clarify, Jeeves. The nature of what we’re suffering,” Though Harry already knew.
His sworn counselor’s eyes grew wide with horrified dismay. “The House of Commons was obliterated, destroyed by forces we can’t imagine! And the people… common citizens have been falling ill and wasting away in the span of minutes! Like the most hideous of plagues. And that’s not the worst of it, Your Grace.”
Harry did his best to suppress the awful sense of dread he felt, heart pounding as he locked eyes with his sworn man. “Don’t hold back, old friend. Tell me.”
Jeeve’s eyes grew haunted. “The clergy is in a panic. The citizens as well. Just in the last few minutes, every last church bell in London has grown black with corrosion, shattering within their towers.”
Harry froze. His squires gasped.
All of Westminster seemed to hold its breath.
“What do we know?”
It was at that moment that the double doors banged open as an eccentric looking man wearing little more than staff, oversized hat, and undyed robes of sheep’s wool blowing in a nonexistent breeze slammed open the grand double doors to the throne room. Perhaps surprisingly, the pair of pale-faced guards didn’t bother trying to bar his way, only bowing slightly at his passage.
“Harry, we have a fucking problem!”
“No shit, Merlin.”
His eccentric Oxford classmate of what now felt like a lifetime ago lifted a sparkling ball of pristine crystal.
“I told you having a spy globe to keep track of what those backstabbing Administrative assholes would do would pay off, and damn has it ever!”
Harry sighed. “You’re American roots are showing again, Merl.”
“But my mother was born here, and dual citizenship was enough for me to enact that heritage quest. So here the fuck I am with the arcane might and memories of a legend, and my wife will never forgive me if I let our Britain fall to demonic monstrous asswipes!”
“What are you going on about?”
“Look!”
And Harry did. Eyes widening in horrified dismay as he saw the conflict play out between a tiny speck of a boy with wings of fire and a mile-high towering titan whose sneering face they could see all too clearly, that really did look like a prince of hell.
Harry’s blood ran cold. “Our House of Commons dared to surrender to that thing?”
“More than surrender,” Merlin snapped. “They forked over the sovereign rights of our people, their bodies and souls! And the horror of it is, the Administrative codicils… goblin forged administrative codicils, actually allow them to do that!”
Harry’s eyes blazed with furious heat as he clenched the hilt of his blade. “I never allowed for any such thing!”
“But your father did,” Merlin said with a sigh. “Dusty contracts signed, giving the House of Commons emergency powers in the days of tyrannical quarantines. Powers to quell any dissent, any rebellion, over body and soul as well.” He bitterly shook his head. “It appears that the damned goblins have been quite aware of our world, its habits and weaknesses, years before any System event ever occurred.”
All a horrified Harry could do was gaze at the nightmare unfolding with growing dismay. “So all of it... All the scheming, all the connivances, all the goblinoid contracts I’ve been tearing us free of… all of it was for naught?”
Merlin shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, but it sure as hell is convenient. Harry, where are you going?”
Harry paid no heed to his friend, already knowing what he needed to do. Shattered church bells or no, he refused to abandon hope, or his people.
There was a crown that needed claiming and a people that desperately needed their king. For as much as he had feared fully embracing his father’s mantel and the doom that would place upon him, if he was to save his people in their final hour, there was only one move forward he could make.
“Harry!” Merlin’s words were filled with fresh alarm when the guards just outside their chamber collapsed, breath going rapid, their flesh withering before their horrified eyes.
The pair of squires trembled, knowing it was only a matter of time for them as well.
“You know what we need to do, Merlin. If we’re going to save our people, it has to be now!”
Merlin’s anxious features stiffened with fresh resolve. He swallowed, gazing at the sword now glowing in his best friend’s hand.
“Shit. I guess it is that time. Alright, old friend. You have the sword, let’s get you the crown and give Britain the king she so desperately needs.”
***
“Bang Jiao, report!” Imperious words echoed ominously through ancient palatial halls tiled in marble and jade as a man dressed in silk robes with a small squared off hat clipped to his topknot bowed low with a deliberate tremble before the imperious-looking girl glaring down at him from the raised dais from which she took her ease upon a cushioned chair plated in gold.
“The seers report a major disturbance in the ebb and flow of spiritual energies to the west, Ruthless Jade.”
The girl raised a manicured brow, tapping her armrest with a crimson lacquered nail, her other hand playing with the hilt of the sheathed jian she casually held upon her lap. She wore a qipao of sheerest silk radiating powerful enchantments that didn’t hamper her graceful movements in the slightest, silky dark hair curled in tight buns revealing a graceful neck adorned with an iron collar radiating spiritual potency and earlobes kissed by rubies and gold.
“I sense more than a casual disturbance, Bang Jiao,” she snapped as the ground trembled, her Perception allowing her to clearly make out the curses and shouts heard along distant halls.
Bang Jiao dipped his head in accord. “The Administrators are even now convening, and have given their assurances that they will put all to order.”
The girl outright glared. “Did they, now? Come. Let us see for ourselves, shall we?”
Bang Jiao clapped his hands. “By your command, Ruthless Jade. I shall gather the Water Seers and we shall attend the scrying pool at once.”
He blinked when the young woman shook her head with a smile.
“No need.”
She then caressed the stick of glittering aluminum topaz alloy on her armrest as a holographic display emerged from the chrome paneling in the center of the tiled floor, her ruby-dyed lips curving in a cold smile.
Bang Jiao’s eyes widened at this. “So this is what those strange men were installing?”
“Elven merchants. And yes. That is correct.” She smirked as the air came alive with a depiction of twenty men and women wearing traditional dynastic attire. “Our dear Administrators who take such pride in their prestige and influence, count at least few competent Wujen amongst their number no matter how many other privileged fools fill that room. This electromana device, however, has no spirituals ties at all, and radiates not the faintest pulse of Qi. And as you can see by the way so many of them are happily gossiping about their empress without a care, they have absolutely no clue as to our oversight at all.”
Bang Jiao, however, looked outraged. His fists were clenched, features flushing with fury at the casual condescension given off by so many as they dared to speak their minds, laughing far too sharply as their smiles revealed so many vicious teeth.
“That they would dare refer to you as a… and they laugh, they dare to laugh, when you could claim their heads with your slightest breath!”
Wild eyes locked onto the girl’s cool countenance. “Your Imperial Grace, but give the word and I—”
“Will do NOTHING!” Ruthless Jade snapped, before softening her words with a smile. “The very fact that they feel free to speak with such impunity implies that they speak with absolute candor, utterly assured of the sanctity of their counsel chambers.” She snorted. “If my blade can counter a Bronze Warrior’s blows, then my skin is surely thick enough for any bloated bastard’s contempt, I assure you of that. Only a fool gives up the ability to glimpse into their opponents’ minds for the sake of a fragile ego and pride. And of course, if any of those fools ever dare utter such mockery in my presence...”
“You will cleave their skulls in twain,” Bang Jiao said with an approving nod. “Understood, Your Eminence.”
Yet Jade’s cool smile hardened into something completely different when the holographic display revealed the twisted portal radiating infernal arts that had just manifested in the center of their Administrative chambers.
“Your Grace, our palatial wards have been breached!”
Jade clenched her jaw. “I know. And I’ve received no warning at all. The System doesn’t even recognize it!”
Bang Jiao shuddered as the portal locked upon the hideous countenance of a towering titan flashing a ruthless smile before making demands that filled him with outrage. “That he would dare demand our surrender, a monster half a world aw—”
The counselor’s words cut off when one of the counselors burst into black flame, shrieking and screaming even as he was consumed.
Jade clenched her armrest so hard that the ancient stone cracked, yet she was the epitome of self-control, compared to her panicked Administrators who began to shriek and plea.
Even Bang Jiao was gazing at the former party members with horror exceeding even the graphic display of brutality they had witnessed. “They would dare tender our surrender? As if they had any such power or right? Such cannot be countenanced!” He roared, immediately spinning around to face his empress.
Yet she was no longer on her throne. And for all that Bang Jiao clenched his fists in fury at the betrayal he had witnessed from the administrators, the sight of his empress smashing open the chamber door before more than a handful could fall to their knees in supplication to a foreign master, her flashing jian swatting away the desperate attempts of the handful of wujen that dared to cast their arts as she filled the grand chamber with arcing sprays of crimson, her battle jian cleaving through raised limbs with effortless grace before sending clean-shaven heads tumbling to the ground in great sanguine gouts of retribution as she proceeded to slaughter each and every Administrator that had dared to surrender what was never theirs to begin with. Neither the bodies of her citizens nor their eternal souls.
The slaughter filled Bang Jiao with fierce vindication, awed to sense a terrible weight of pressure, a doom he felt only with its absence, abruptly lifting free of his heart and soul as the empress declared the Counsel no more in the most ruthless and efficient manner available to her, before a single additional lick-boot or coward could surrender to their foe.
He bowed before the display even as the once grey counsel chamber grew an ever brighter shade of crimson.
“Cleave free the gangrenous limb so that the body may be saved.” He smiled with genuine pride. “You are exactly what we need, granddaughter. May our nation rise to greatness once more under your tender ministrations. For you alone can protect us from the madness of all that would destroy us.” He bowed thrice more. “You alone, Ruthless Jade, can cleave us free of corruption and lead our empire to greatness once more.”
***
Eric clenched his fists, fighting not to scream as panic, dizziness, and nausea overwhelmed him, every limb aching from horrific strain, pretty damn sure he had cracked if not outright shattered most of the bones in his body. And he was still hurtling. Still hurtling through the air!
A part of him was afraid he was hurtling into space itself. But he dare not look. Dare not risk collapsing any wave functions when his interface was so damned silent, and he willing to give up EVERYTHING! So long as he could protect his people.
So long as he could save his home.
His mind desperately locked onto the memory of Elly’s gentle, smiling features. How fiercely she had cried out, kissing him so deeply when they had embraced, savoring passion and an unspoken promise, a possibility that neither of them had expected.
A life he would do his utmost to make happen. WOULD make happen, the moment he crashed back to Earth, claimed that territory, and pulled another miracle from madness.
“Eric?”
He couldn’t hold back his smile when he saw his Elly so clearly. The farthest thing from a dying man’s delusion, delicate lines at the corner of her eyes showcasing the wear of over a century of living through pain, perseverance, and only the faintest echo of a Contender’s blessings, yet still blessed with the bright fierce flush of vitality and a youthful smile that touched Eric’s heart so deeply. A beautiful elven girl he would happily make his own.
“Elly, I’m coming,” he silently promised. “Hold on. This round isn’t over… Elly!”
He wanted to scream, yet not sound came out in the void as Elly’s gentle features turned to panic, the beautiful glade of memory and dream she smiled at him from withering before terrible heat, furious roars, and a twisted hand of absolute darkness and hate clawing free the girl Eric was so desperate to save, as Eric’s words filled with the dying howls of a half-step Gold too furious to die without taking everything with him that he could.
“WHAT'S YOURS IS MINE, YOU PATHETIC WRETCH!”
Eric howled, screaming his furious defiance as he felt his wild tossing through the void abruptly stop, choking back a wheeze of surprise as he began hurtling in reverse. Not so much falling back to Earth as if feeling like he was being rewound, no matter that his thoughts proceeded apace.
Yet his body was frozen in its agony, even as Elly’s graceful countenance warped with terror, hands desperately reaching out for Eric’s own.
“Eric!” Her desperate scream was the farthest thing from a woman at peace with a life well-lived. It was the panicked cry of a fragile, precious flower about to be consumed for all time.
For just a heartbeat, a horrified Eric saw flashes of countless lives lived, loves embraced, children held, loved ones cherished, as a desperate soul sung of hope and love and a desperate plea.
Eric howled and reached out with everything he had, clutching TIGHT to the memory of Elly and every precious life she had ever lived before, sensing the gratitude in her eyes, a beautiful emerald light of hope.
Before it was cruelly ripped from his fingers, a final despairing scream all Eric heard as she was forever torn away.
“Elly!”
Eric silently howled even as his body crashed to the ground, a hundred breaks and tears knitting themselves in reverse as a dozen spite-filled curses flung with a Titan’s dying breath were torn free at last, Eric’s punctured lungs suddenly inflating as he spat up blood, finding himself upon broken lifeless rocks once more as he screamed his plea.
“ELLY!”
PHOENIX ASCENDANT TITLE HAS BEEN REFORGED AS: PHOENIX REBORN!
SILVER TIER TITLE BOON HAS BEEN REFORGED!
YOU (AND THE PLANET YOU DESTROY) MAY RISE ONCE FROM THE ASHES OF YOUR DESTRUCTION!
For long moments Eric just lay upon the broken, lifeless land as he finally registered the System’s belated message, tears streaming from his fully intact cheeks as he was struck with the horrific certainty that the Earth really had been ripping apart, much like the Mars-sized planet that had supposedly crashed into Earth, billions of years ago.
Yet by some miracle, his desperate plea had worked. The world’s breaking and his own bones shattering had played in reverse. Reverse to the point before his nemesis had shattered him with so many death curses even as Malice was sent crashing down to hell.
Yet his Silver-Tier boon hadn’t been enough to save his precious Elly or any other member of the Rising Sun Corp, or any of the countless thousands of souls that unspeakable monster had already consumed in its furious attempts to ascend to Gold.
Even now, Eric could feel the awful weight of that twisted soul crashing down to hell. Even now, it was scrabbling so FURIOUSLY at Eric’s mind, twisted claws slipping off his absolute rejection, Eric absolutely refusing to surrender a single revenant or soul to the vile creature he abhorred so utterly. Even as it’s final spiritual traces faded, shrieking so discordantly as its clawed fingers tore free an entire territory to drag down with it to hell.
A final act of spite that a dazed, exhausted, and mourning Eric only then realized was about to kill him.
WARNING! You are currently in an UNSTABLE Black-tier region about to collapse upon itself! Immediate withdrawal from this area is strongly advised!
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Eric cursed, snapping back to himself only to look around and see endless fields of lifeless rock and sand twist and funnel into a swirling black void that he was NOT about to get close to, pointing himself south and racing as if death itself was chasing after his heels, the rocky terrain became a streaking blur as he sprinted four-fold the speed of sound, and STILL it wasn’t enough as the land began to dissolve under his feet. Not just the land around him, but space itself.
Then he was screaming his heart out, racing through the air as fast as he could as he sensed nothingness roaring forth behind him and he was about to flap his wings when...
Congratulations! You are the first Terran Contender to successfully escape a dimensionally collapsing territory!
You have earned the Standard title: Perilous Explorer! +5 to Perception and Quickness and a heightened Danger Sense means you might just survive your next brush with almost certain death while exploring wild terrain. NOTE! Full title boons are open to ALL who survive certain death in Black-Tier regions! (Potency is refilled with all those who FAIL to do so!)
Chapter 468 - Preparing for what's to come.
Comments
Michael Bracken
Malice either died or didn’t, this in between death stuff seems like forced drama. He was surprised to be dealt a killing blow that obliterated him. He was a silver almost gold tier being, and with the power descriptions of silvers, even fresh golds learning their new powers, him having this much control over independent souls makes no sense. Souls trapped by willingly signed contracts, sure, when he is alive, but not when he is dead, and certainly not souls he has no anchor to control.
Spacewalker
This can never win for losing stuff is just frustrating to read. A story chasing its tail with no end in sight. I believe im dropping the story here.
James O'Neal
It seems like we're stuck in a loop with malice. Please put Malice to bed and let Eric move on.
M
Ugh. Not looking forward dragging it out to any more ‘Malice isn’t ACTUALLY defeated… Behold! Malice’s disciple, Lord Song has revealed his Malicious evil plans.’ Any chance we can just get to skipping it and get back to Eric progressing?
Iain Grubb
No Silver Fox this week?
Trevayne
Good update and it is great to finally get some views as to what is going on elsewhere on the planet.
chad osborn
Can we please leave Malice in the dust with no further issues. Prolonging such a single dimensional villian. He isn't charming or relatable as a all around character and doesn't even have an agenda that makes the reader second guess if he has a point in doing what he is doing i.e. Thanos disappearing 50% all life in order to prevent anymore celestials from being born and destroying the planets that support sentient life.
