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Soul of Blades - Chapter 57: An Unholy Assembly
🕑 Added 2024-03-29 12:35:58 +0000 UTCTo be outnumbered was not to be outclassed. That was a lesson Alex had carried with him his whole life.
There was always a way, a second, more important lesson his first experience with being outnumbered had taught him. Throughout his past life, he had been outnumbered on more than a few occasions and in more ways than one. He had faced two opponents, or five, or ten, or at one point, fifty. He hadn’t won against fifty, though. But he hadn’t exactly lost either;
Because there had been a way.
Movement had been his ally, to race and run, to shift. To force the enemy to battle on your terms, to remove the safety of numbers. To force each of them to face the reality of their personal weakness, rather than the strength of a group. The key hadn’t been to beat fifty people, or even to beat one person fifty times.
The key to victory lay in beating the strongest portion, removing the bravest from the fight with such finality that the cowards among them lost their spine.
He had beaten two, three, even five. But he had failed against fifty, a single mistake was all it had taken. But still, there had been a way.
“There’s always a way,” Alex muttered the mantra, a chant of refuge in the bleakest of storms.
But viewing the present storm in his midst, the refuge of his words seemed… tenuous.
***
An unholy assembly of nobility stood before Alex, their ominous presence shrouding the surrounding landscape which warped and changed before his eyes. He observed the armies arrayed before him, its Mephistophelian soldiers— each marked by the infernal - majestic yet monstrous. Their stature and features varied from tall and sinewy to imposing and hulking, the heads of their armour all crowned with dual horns, curved backwards above the roof of metal domes.
Alex noticed something shifting at the front of the gathered troops, four rising hills of red. Brood mothers, infernal and deadly, shifted the attention of all present.
It was then that Alex saw something in this twisted space, this world, moving with them. Above them. Straddling the broodmothers like steeds.
Three figures, each crowned with horns— real horns and not metal imitations, that twisted and curled in a myriad of grotesque, yet captivating shapes. The only exception to this pattern, he observed, was the eldest appearing of the four- a figure of wicked elegance, adorned with three horns.
Then—Alex saw them clearly.
A Prince, the eldest, the first, resting atop a monstrous brood mother with ease. An imposing figure with ripcord muscles stretching his sallow skin. Two horns curled up from the sides of his head, framing a sharp third central horn that jutted out from the center of his forehead like a wicked spear. His red eyes, full of malevolence, glowed like the dying embers around them.
The first Prince of many.
Second, stood beside the first prince atop her own broodmother, was a princess. She was a paradox of beauty and terror. She had strikingly lithe and feminine features, an infernal allure that emphasised her defined, seductive and angelic features. Yet, her beauty was deeply marred by the sheer malice that simmered just beneath its surface.
The second princess of few.
Alex's eyes locked on to the second princess’s form, her eyes were completely black and devoid of any human emotion, accentuated by bright, crimson pupils that glowed with insatiable predatory hunger. Her mouth was unnaturally warped and wide— filled with wicked teeth that seemed to cut the very air, parting the wind. But her smile was the most striking. Her smile was an unnaturally warped and elongated horror show, with rows of large impossibly sharp teeth. It transformed her picturesque face into a haunting spectacle. Every time she closed her gargantuan mouth, Alex would momentarily forget her grotesque nature, captivated by her deceptive beauty, only to be startled by the return of her horrifying grin.
It was just so… big. Gaping. A maw that ended in pitch-blackness. Alex suspected a single bite could remove limbs.
He stood rooted to the spot, his heart thumping against the walls of his ribs like gates under siege. He hastily checked his status and dumped all of his forty free stats into endurance. He reasoned that with this many enemies before him, he was bound to eventually receive blows, armoured force field or not. The axe blow he'd witnessed from R'jdar, the fourth prince, was worrying. As long as he had the endurance to survive whatever came his way, he could make it back to Lyra and the town’s warriors. They were bound to have a healer amongst them.
[Name: Alex Ironwood
Level: 60
Race: Human - Rank F
Primary Class: ̷̷͎̠̠̖̳̮̿́̏̄͝͠Sys̵̞̈́͆̓̓te̸̪̟͇͕͂mic SwO̷̟̮̙͚̔rd So̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅve̶̷̵̴̲̳̱reign
Sub-class: Locked
Strength: 358 (231)
Dexterity: 389 (251)
Endurance: 198 (128)
Intelligence: 505 (326)
Wisdom: 43 (28)
Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV, Survivor, Warrior, Champion,
Active skills: Phoenix Leap, Mana Burn, Mana Blade, Boundless Dodge, Duȅ̷̳̮̄͝͠l of C̷͎̠̠̖̿́orruption, Sovereign Executioner, WeightedBody,
Passive skills: Inner Focus, Outer Focus, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱, Inventory, Bestial Senses, BladeBody,
Dao: True Immortality - 0.06% Progress
Unassigned stat points: 0]
He noted was receiving the 55% stat boost instead of his usual 45%, due to being outnumbered, surrounded, and apparently outclassed by one if not all of the demon royals. Frustration within bubbled further.
He felt as though he had developed by leaps and bounds. But according to the system, he had barely even taken a single step on the path of conquest. Once more, he found himself out-levelled and outstripped in power. Climbing the endless mountain of strength, he was impeded at every turn. Suck it up, buddy, he thought to himself, this is the path you chose, so own it. Destroy it. He squeezed his blades until blood fled from his knuckles.
The same sentiment applied to his Dao. The system told him he had not even reached a single step on the godly path. He thought of the vague impressions of his visions, and when he compared them to his current capabilities, he had to agree. The Dao…I’ll conquer that, too, he thought with fury. But now was a dangerous time to be distracted. Alertness would be his bastion and blade. With his stats allocated, his eyes frantically darted to and fro, absorbing the sight of the four demon royals and their harrowing armies.
He saw more figures shift, rising high, and obscuring the light of the pillar.
The third Prince Alex saw, was a brute. The third was lean yet immensely muscular and lounged with an air of boredom atop his brood mother. The third’s dual horns were gnarled and twisted things. They rose from his head like demonic sceptres. He looked on with disinterest, eyes devoid of the fiery glow his kin bore, only filled with a cold, disdainful glint. A third prince of slothful might.
Alex’s gaze returned to the fourth, R’djar, who by comparison to his siblings appeared the youngest, the weak.
The fourth Prince, R'jdar, stood apart from the others, having dismounted from his broodmother to face Alex long before his siblings' arrival. His physique was smaller— more human-like than the rest, an odd coincidence. A subtle sneer rested on his face, a blatant sign of his frustration and underlying rage.
He crossed his arms behind his back and regarded his siblings.
Amidst the swirling maelstrom of the demon horde, the first Prince appeared towering. He leered down at his brethren from his monstrous mount and stretched, a twisted working of lean muscles and gnarled horns. A wordless challenge issued from the fiery light of his gaze as he eyed each sibling. A challenge none but one returned. The light of the embers around them ricocheted off his three horns.
"This world," The first of many princes rumbled, his voice deep like thunder, "is teeming with life. Perfect for the harvest."
The second Princess, with her grotesque caricature of beauty, smirked. Her smile was a gash, an abyss lined with razor teeth. "Indeed. But what's this?" she drawled, her black eyes alight with fiery red pupils. "Our fourth, the weak, unable to conquer a mere village?"
"You seem overly fond of this fresh world, brother," she sneered, her voice laced with amused condescension. "Could it be, that our esteemed fourth Prince has bungled so horribly that even a mere hamlet is beyond his reach?"
A collective hiss of amusement rippled through the horde. She basked in it, her smirk widening grotesquely, displaying the terrifying extent of her maw and its endlessly sharp teeth. Her gaze drifted over Alex, who, till then, had been successfully playing statue amidst the ruins, unnoticed. Somehow, despite her gaze sweeping past his location, she still did not seem to notice him. He shuddered visibly under the potential of unwelcome attention.
Maybe I can escape somehow, before they notice... his eyes moved while his neck stayed rigid. But what if his movement brought attention to him? Alex was paralyzed with indecision.
Across the battlefield, the third Prince- the brute, chimed in. His voice dripped with sarcasm, each word laced with listful disinterest. "Splendid, brother. You exceed yourself." His lazy posture betrayed the lethal strength infused within his muscular frame, and his eyes flashed with both judgment and cold disinterest.
Meanwhile, the fourth Prince, R'jdar, stood rigid. His apparent anger radiated off him in noticeable waves. His gaze bore into Alex but he held no words for him. His rage was a bitter pill, one he was forced to swallow publicly.
"Silence," R'jdar snarled, his fury a barely contained storm.
"Your mockery does not weaken me.” His gaze swept across his siblings, reaching one before turning to the other. “I have bested every one of you many times before."
His gaze briefly landed on the third, before settling on the second princess of few.
“And it’s not a hamlet, it’s a town, you imbecile.”
The third Prince, with hulking figure of muscular sinew and shadowy skin, lazily joined in the laughter that bubbled up around them. His horns gnarled, yet simpler and straighter than his elder brother's, shone ominously as he threw back his head in hearty amusement. Alex could sense that this time, the laughter was strained, forced. "Indeed," the third guffawed, “it is a town.”
The third settled, using his immense strength to tug at the reigns of his brood mother, turning its elephant-like frame to face Prince R’djar. “And indeed you have bested us all. But with mere trickery. Never with strength”
He leaned forward intently, as his elder siblings looked on with interest. "I've heard tell that humans of this world are stronger than most,” he spoke the words they all thought, “but all newly inducted worlds are notoriously weak. How is it that this town still stands?" the third questioned, gazing at R'jdar the weak.
Scornful eyes all turned towards the fourth Prince, R'jdar. He was leaner than his siblings, and smaller. But his muscles had the hardened look of tempered steel, and bulged with every movement. The unmistakable mark of the battlefield. His dark eyes burned with defiance, in protest against the incessant hatred of his siblings. A promise to overcome was held in his gaze, it was a promise that Alex too easily recognised.
Alex remained silent, a statue amidst this horror show. At first, he had been frozen with indecision. But now, his mind was busy, thoughts pacing, weaving, creating a blueprint of potential escape strategies. They had underestimated him, dismissed him.
And that, he knew, was their biggest mistake.
As the demons continued their banterous exchange, Alex absorbed everything - their postures, their interactions, their arrogance. Their weaknesses.
The fourth, R’djar, was indignant and unyielding. Cunning.
The third was a sloth.
The second was flippant yet insatiable, ravenous, and covetous.
And the first was mired in seas of overconfidence.
Alex noticed the smallest of details, the furtive glances, the subtle body language, the undercurrent of tension. Everything was data, everything was valuable.
But as he watched, one thought remained - how to use their own arrogance against them. How to exploit their dismissal of him, and how to use his insignificance to bring about their downfall.
He watched as they turned their attention back to the fourth prince, R’djar. For them, his present failure and apparent incompetence was a source of vindication. Reaffirming their beliefs in their strength and superiority over him. They were berating him, questioning him, their views evident. They seemed to resent their numerous losses to him in their homeworld.
But to Alex, it meant something completely different.
Despite all of them being stronger than Prince R'jdar, he had apparently bested them many times in their world. He found that fact the most concerning.
The fourth prince, R'jdar the weak, seemed especially dangerous.
Alex observed him. Prince R'jdar seemed cornered, his rage barely contained, looking ready to explode. And that was another vulnerability, another weak point to exploit.
“If it wasn’t for the crystals I provided, there would be no incursion! There would be no conquest!” He yelled at his siblings, losing control and pointing to the large crystals suspended in the air.
The first prince shifted, a smug sense of victory playing on his demonic features. "Yes brother, thank you for providing the stage for me- for us to finally display our superiority. True superiority, through real and uncontested strength." the first prince bellowed, his voice booming, filling the air with its dreadful sound. He sighed, high on what Alex assumed was the sensation of overcoming his first and only loss. "Isn't it laughable? Couldn't even control a small town, let alone a city."
The second princess laughed, a sound that was eerily melodic, at odds with her grotesque appearance. "I think it's simply delightful. What fun we'll have with this lot," she said, her gaze sweeping over the settlement.
The First Prince of many, his voice resonating with power, boomed in response, "A farm, that's what this world will be good for." He turned his gaze towards the Fourth Prince, a sadistic grin splitting his face. "A farm for resources, slaves... and perhaps, meat."
His words sent a chilling hush across the assembled host, countless eyes shining with horrific anticipation. They revelled in the vision of a world in flames, its people in chains, and the taste of human flesh.
They were so engrossed in their cruel revelry that they almost missed the insignificant human in their midst.
Almost.
It was the second princess who spotted Alex first. She continued to scan the burning and changing environment, Then, her eyes landed on Alex. She stilled. "Oh," she drawled, her voice seeping into the corners of the hushed silence, "what's this?" Her cruel smile turned into a leer, her interest piqued. "A human?" she purred, a mix of curiosity and disdain.
Then, they too noticed Alex, standing on the periphery, silent and observant. Disbelief filled their faces as they turned their attention towards the Fourth Prince, R’djar the weak. "You bring a native to the incursion point?" the second princess asked, her voice a blend of amusement and scorn.
The fourth prince's rage, already a simmering pot, exploded. His gaze zeroed in on Alex, his eyes hardening dangerously. Prince R'jdar, snarled, his temper flaring. This was not going according to plan. The human was supposed to be a pawn, not the center of attention. Not so soon.
The Third Prince of sloth, shared in their derision. He chimed in, his interest finally piqued. "A pet, brother? Or have you grown so weak you need the humans to fight your battles?" His amused tones were filled with cruelty, sounding across the battlefield.
Enraged, Prince R'jdar clenched his fists, the dark red veins on his neck standing out starkly against his obsidian skin. He glared at Alex, a primitive native in the midst of royalty.
A potential pawn in his dangerous game.
The first and oldest prince followed his sibling's gazes to Alex. "Ah," he chuckled, a slow, menacing sound. "A native. Isn't it adorable?"
"You think this one will taste good?" The slothful third wondered, curiosity displayed in his peering eyes.
About as tasteful as a blade, Alex thought with derision. Through this all, he had stood silent, unresponsive but observant, he studied the royalty and their monstrous armies. Studied how they interacted. These were the beings that sought to strip his new world bare, to reduce its people to slaves, to raze his new home to the ground. The gravity of his circumstances pressed down on him heavily and from all sides, yet within, a plan had begun to form. A desperate, dangerous plan. A plan of survival and revenge.
"I doubt it," the first prince responded, a low growl underlining his words. "Their meat is always so... bland."
"Are we talking about taste or control?" The second princess interjected, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Because if it's control we're discussing..."
She let her words hang in the air, her gaze now firmly on the fourth prince. His muscles coiled in response, a tangible wave of apparent humiliation washing over him.
The eldest prince tugged, and his brood mother took a single step, closer to Alex’s still form. “So what do we have here?" The first prince drawled, a smirk hinting at the corner of his lips as he swept a pointed gaze to Alex, as though he were an exotic specimen. "Does the pet have a name?"
Alex, startled, found himself answering before he could think "I’m not a pet. My name is Alex, demon." His voice came out harsh, defiant.
"Alex," the third prince repeated as if testing the name. "How... ordinary."
"It's a primitive native, brother," the second princess said, her gaze fixed on Alex, appraising, calculating. "What sort of interest, or even challenge do you think it can pose?"
Disbelief etched itself onto the faces of the demon monarchy as they struggled to comprehend how a lowly native, a creature they considered beyond inferior, could find its way to the heart of their stronghold. The Fourth Prince, R'jdar, seemingly caught off guard by the prospect, attempted to explain himself with words laced with defensiveness. "He is not just a primitive native. He possesses knowledge and insights that may aid us in our conquest.” He regarded Alex with a serious expression, all of his previous scrutiny and condescension long forgotten. “He is valuable.”
W-What!? Alex sputtered internally, shocked at what Prince R'jdar had just claimed. What the hell is he talking about? He just spent the whole time before they arrived telling me how little I knew and that I deserved no knowledge!?
Still simmering with uncontrolled rage, the Fourth Prince's voice turned sharp, his words a cutting retort. "You underestimate him. This 'primitive native' has proven himself resourceful and resilient. He holds secrets that could turn the tides of our wars. Of all of our wars. Do not kill him."
“… “ Alex was dumbfounded. Was R'jdar just a pathological liar?
Intrigue played and raced through the eyes of all demon royalty present, as they exchanged curious glances, contemplating the Fourth Prince's claims. The eldest, the first Prince, spoke. His voice was a low rumble addressed to Alex directly. "Speak, primitive. What knowledge do you possess that could be of use to us?"
As Alex desperately thought of a response, a system notification flashed before his eyes and a wave of calm washed over him as the final piece of his plan was set.
It was time to move.
He crouched, paused, and began to mutter a series of words.
The second princess leaned towards the edge of her perch on her broodmother and stared at Alex’s crouched and muttering form curiously. “What was that, human? I can’t hear you. What did you say?”
The royal demons all turned to face Alex. The arrayed armies all regarded him curiously. The fourth, R'jdar, was suddenly nowhere to be seen.
Alex looked up at her from his crouched position and drew a sword from deep within his chest. It shone a bright, and blinding fiery blue, morphing into a metallic white copy of him, complete with its own blindingly bright blue blade.
He grinned, and responded, “I said… Mana Burn”.
[2 hour mana cooldown ended. Skills now available for use]
