Balance of Death Page 16

  As he finishes the guards start blasting him with chakra. He slices his blade down towards the chakra as he does he moves his finger position on the hilt invoking his Ekten sending chakra down the top of the blade and making it thousands of times heavier. Maintaining the momentum from when it was much lighter. He cuts through the blasts.

  Then he moves his fingers again drawing his chakra back in returning the blade to its original state- making it significantly lighter. All of this happened in an instant allowing him to swing a light sword building speed before vastly magnifying the weight and sharpness of the sword: creating monstrous amounts of momentum. Like throwing a rock that turns into a boulder just before contact

  As they blast at him a flurry of chakra is seen some he cuts through some he re-directs blasting one of the men.

  As the action unfolds, the opsman brings his hands to his abdomen. Using a spell to collect powerful wind energy: a sphere in his hands. He opens his hands outward towards Oenopain. The sphere bursts forward. The spell sends powerful torrents of wind cutting through the floorboards, and destroying everything it is path.

  Oenopain stabs his sword deep into the ground, and using Ekten to extend his sword digging even deeper. He kneels down ducking his head underneath his arms as the wind streams past him cutting through even his chakra hardened skin. The remaining guards are lacerated and sent flying from the opsmen’s attack.

  After the wind calms again with a thud Oenopain pulls his sword from the ground. Chunks of wood and debris fly up from the force. As blood drips off his arms and back from the cuts of the wind. “Fucking child.” Oenopain remarks before throwing his blade towards the opsmen as he releases it he enhances it. Then he leaps into the air above towards the opsman.

  The opsman quickly shouts a spell placing his palm on the ground smoke billows out from his hand and his body appears as smoke itself. Oenopain’s sword flies through the smokey form of the opsman’s body. Oenopain lands striking through the smoke that was once the opsman- shattering the floorboards. The smoke disperses and collects just to the side of Oenopain regaining the form of the opsmen.

  The opsman collects a huge cloud of smoke around his arm and launches it at Oenopain starting to lift him into the air. Soon Oenopain’s increased weight becomes too much, and he lands back on the ground still gripped by the smokey arm. “You poor fools really have no idea who you are fucking with.” Oenopain remarks chuckling.

  Oenopain breaks his arms out sending kinetic energy to disperse the smoke. The he begins walking towards the opsman. Flicking kinetic energy at his smoke form. Watching it disperse partially. “That is a neat trick. For cowards.” Oenopain antagonizes, as he continues to flick mighty but small blasts of kinetic energy past him. The opsman tries sending blast after blast of wind and smoke at Oenopain, but every time he disrupts it with a burst of kinetic energy with ease.

  The opsman realizing it is hopeless he disperses into a cloud of smoke and attempts to stream into the floor boards to escape, but before he can Oenopain composes an Ekten flowing his chakra to the cloud of smoke. As soon as the chakra hits a portion of the cloud it spreads, and the smoke drops from the air. Oenopain increased the weight of the smoke, so much so, that the opsmen cannot sustain it. A moment afterward the spell breaks and the smoke re-materialize into pieces of the opsmans mangled body laying throughout the room in a bloody mess.

  As the action comes to an immediate end the atmosphere amongst the people adjusts. Civilians stand and make their way to the exit with various degrees of injuries. The few remaining guards flee or make their way to the tavern area to have a drink.

  Korydon shakes his head as Thromb taps him on the shoulder signaling to follow him as he walks to Oenopain. They meet up with him as he is grabbing his katana stabbed deep into the wall and rock of the mountain. “We should be going.” Thromb tells Oenopain who nods and moves towards the exit with him.

  As the get close to the exit they see a group of men enter. They are wearing armor for battle, but there is no consistency in the design amongst them. One of them is tall with a cut muscular form, and beard. He is leading the rest towards Thromb. “You must be the clansmen.” Daeva assumes as he ignores the carnage from the battle. “You sure know how to have a low key meeting.” Daeva says with a smirk. Over a dozen of Asta’s death dealers come in afterward and escort all the other people from the building.

  Daeva stops just before Thromb. “I am Daeva.” Extending his arm out for salutations. “What the fuck could you want from me?” Daeva presses.

  “Well if I am to believe Asta, then it is what do I want from her.” Thromb counters hoping to assess the authority Asta holds over Daeva.

  Such remarks frustrate Daeva. Especially in front of his enforcers. “You are speaking to the Kentro of the circle of śmierć. You’d do well not to forget that.” Daeva leaning into Thrombs face.

  “Well then I have wasted my time.” Thromb walking past Daeva heading for the exit with the two masters following him.

  “Hold!” Daeva yells. “You came all the way here; you midswell sit and broach desired terms.” Daeva as he walks towards Thromb who has stopped.

  Thromb concludes that Daeva’s brash remarks were simply bluster to keep appearances, and not an indicator of the weight Asta’s name carries. “Alright.” Thromb with a nod as he tells his men to hold, while he and Daeva make their way to the tavern area: a distance from their men. As they make their way over Aeshma shares a quick glance with Oenopain. Aeshma with a deep breath tries to avoid any suspicious behavior as his mind races.

  “What are the allegiances of the circle?” Thromb wants to understand Daeva’s motivation.

  “All our allegiances lie within the circle.” Daeva answers taking a seat at the table with Thromb.

  Thromb admires such words, but figures they are just that. “Well then what sort of relationship do you and Amneka have?” Thromb questions.

  Daeva clenches his jaw. “A mutually beneficial one.” Daeva doesn’t want to share his dealings with Amneka.

  “Did you strike this deal with the high chief?” Thromb continues. After a moment of silence Daeva not answering his question. “What does Asta’s promise mean to the Kentro?” Thromb growls aggravated with the lack of cooperation after his efforts to be here.

  “I deal with Ruvaen he is the regent of Throza, and soon to be the new central lands.” Daeva reluctantly gives Thromb what he wants as he agreed to for Asta.

  Knowing what such information means, it clarifies the relationship of Daeva and Asta for him. Thromb becomes eager to get back to Qilong city to relay these opportunities to his fellow clansmen, and begin forming plans to fully utilize their new assets. “I see well I do apologize for the commotion that ensued from our presence, but it is worth noting that the corpse over there is a mystico black opsman.” Thromb finishes.

  Daeva squints his eyes looking to the right for a moment. This gives Daeva cause for concern; if Ruvaen were to find out he is working with the clans that would make them direct enemies. The last thing he needs right now is to be at odds with Amneka like the days of the not too distant past. “Thank you for the heads up.” Daeva responds trying mask how much the news affected him.

  “I think we could forge a relationship even more beneficial than the one you have with Amneka. However, now that we are better acquainted. We should find a less conspicuous place to continue our discussion.“ Thromb impresses upon Daeva.

  “What could you offer me?” Daeva questions.

  “There are few warriors mightier than the Shanshe.” Thromb asserts.

  “And, you would put them to use for me.” Daeva knows the clans are renown for their honor.

  “Not directly, but if we have mutual enemies, we could work together to see their end.” Thromb sees the circle as a tool.

  Given the amount of attention the battle will have gained. Even in a smaller kingdom capital like Nidium. “Quickly then, I don’t have long.” Daeva downs his mug finishing his drink. Preparing to move
to a new location.

  Chapter 13

  Back in Poetovio. As the morning rises over the battlefield that robbed Daeva’s men of their lives. Lucio’s men work on the structures adding fortification and another section. This all sits in a clearing along a road.

  The road begins at a mining town in the Kingdom of Poetovio, and leads up the mountain past Lucio’s complex to a large mine. Owned by the Crux of Peleus. The road snakes up a gradual incline before cutting between two peaks. Lucio’s men have a barricade setup on the road between the mine and the town as an early warning system for any follow-on attacks.

  The sun hasn't quite risen yet; leaving the surroundings still dark and cold. The barricade consists of two metal platforms on either side of the road with a gate on a wheel that rolls to sit between them. Three women walk up on the path; two of them with plane masks wearing thick dire hide coats and armor. Each carrying straight blade katanas with teeth hung from the hilt. Asta the third one wearing an all black one piece outfit with a small cape that drapes down to her waist over her right shoulder, and knee high boots.

  The men seeing this nudge each other confused by the sight. As the women arrive about ten meters from the barricade Asta looks to both platforms with terrifying intent.

  Before they can say anything Asta lifts her hands in front of her. Asta’s chakra builds as she breathes in. When she exhales a flash of red chakra bolts through the air between her hands and the barricade. In the next instant the barricade explodes outward. The air ignites at the point of contact causing an explosion. The shockwave decimates the main structure of the barricade. Anger from a pathetic criminal affecting her goals flows through her.

  Asta’s death dealers leap into action. They jump off various debris stabbing and cutting the men. They land back in the mud and the bodies and debris follow.

  As soon as they land Asta runs into the stronghold at blinding speeds. She stops in the courtyard in the middle of the complex and all of Lucio’s men. She kneels down and crushes her hands into the earth below. Flexing her muscles as she streams her chakra through the ground of the surrounding area; Lucio’s men close in and begin taking aim. Suddenly massive fractures stemming from Asta’s position form all throughout the complex and red chakra shines from the cracks; with a flex of her muscles Asta releases her chakra and it explodes in the fractures leveling the buildings and mangling the nearby landscape.

  Asta stands back up. A few men that survived regain themselves and focus back on Asta. They can only assume she must have exhausted her power with that massive attack.

  A man yells; “kill the witch.” As the words leave his mouth Asta screams forward jamming her fist into his skull sending his lifeless body flying. The men try to track her movements chakra blasts start firing in all directions hitting their allies in the flurry. As blasts sound off they get less frequent as screams echoed through the mountains.

  Asta makes her way through the complex grabbing body parts and tearing them from the men. Asta runs up grabbing a man by the arm forcing him into a large piece of building debris. Snapping his arm in the process leaving a deep cut on his shoulder. She grabs his arm, and stomps on his shoulder shattering it, while pulling up tearing his arm out of the socket. A loud wail from her victim as she does. Asta moves disappearing and reappearing in front of another one of Lucio’s men thrusting the exposed bone of the amputated arm through the face of the man.

  As she does a large mechanical gauntlet grabs her shoulder squeezing down with great force. She turns and strikes the large suit of alchmeic armor. “A gladiator.” Asta says with a smirk. “Lucio must have paid you a fortune for you to risk crossing over to this side of the law.”

  The gladiator stands almost twice Asta’s height. His movements are very mechanical; gears and disks spin to allow articulation. The exosuit armor around his body enhances his abilities through the use of alchemic metals and crystals placed throughout.

  Asta lifts her hand and clenches her fist. She can feel that much of her chakra has been expended in the last few attacks.

  The gladiator runs at Asta striking downward. She lifts her arms to block it, and the ground below her caves in. With a powerful whip she kicks the armored legs of the gladiator he drops to one knee, but wraps his arms around Asta.

  Tilting his massive body he brings Asta to the ground, and attempts to gain the advantage. Once he has her down he begins striking at her with his powerful armor. Asta puts her arms up guarding her head from the strikes as the gladiator punishes her torso and strikes at her guard.

  More men start firing at Asta’s last known location. As they scramble, a straight blade katana comes flying through the air stabbing into one of them; knocking him off his feet. A blur flashes past leveling them as Edite tears their carotid from their neck. Leaving only a few men scattering to get cover where they can. One of the men runs to a broken wall and puts his back to it.

  As he stands there breathing heavy covered in his allies blood. He creeps to the edge of the wall slowly attempting to muster the confidence to peer around in hopes of identifying his enemy’s location. He raises his hand cannon. The crystal sitting in the barrel begins to heat up. Just as he starts to move his head to the edge, he hears behind him; “Pathetic.” Edite comments.

  The man quickly tries to aim at her, but she moves too fast for him cutting his hand clean off. The man falls against the wall and to his knees from the pain.

  Before Edite can finish the man, one of Lucio’s enforcers speeds up and strikes disorientating her, then in a flash he hits her with a barrage of strikes the last one sending her flying backwards.

  It is rare to get the jump on a death dealer even for another vampire. The enforcer attempts to capitalize on his surprise attack, but is stopped as a straight blade impales his calf and is driven even further into the ground holding him in place. The enforcer strikes backwards with his elbow but star ducks it and punishes his abdomen with a flurry of hits. The enforcer falls to his knee the blade cutting his calf deeper. Star walks around to his front: calmly. The enforcer spits blood onto the floor.

  “You kunt.” He says before rapidly standing pulling his leg from the blade while attempting to uppercut Star. Edite speeds over grabbing his wrist before it can make contact with Star and snaps it, then sends him soaring backward with a powerful kick.

  “Why bother. You will never stop Asta’s will.” Star comments.

  “How old are you?” The enforcer asks from his back. As his wounds begin to slowly heal.

  Edite blinks forward grabbing her sword scraping it just above the ground running it straight through the mans crotch to his head cutting him in two.

  His skull splitting open and the blood escaping sounds out in the wreckage of Lucio’s fort; like a crescendo to the death that befell it. Bodies and ruble cover the grounds where only moments ago Lucio’s men were building their strength.

  Meanwhile, Asta bides her time as the gladiator rains down powerful strikes. Suddenly she sees an opening in his attacks and swiftly jabs up at his chin whiplashing the gladiator’s head disorientating him. Using the opening she wraps her legs around his torso and pulls herself up grabbing his head. She tilts it to the side striking some gears a few times before biting down on a piece of the metal tearing it from the suit. Leaving a small opening exposing the man- inside the armor. She smiles as she jabs her arm in grabbing and tearing out flesh throwing blood and matter to the side.

  Asta kicks out and stands in front of the now kneeling gladiator. She grabs the edges of the opening, and flexes hard tearing the armor until it snaps and two large pieces tear off. The gladiator’s head and neck are now exposed bleeding onto the ground. He guards his neck and strikes up with an uppercut at Asta. She moves backward at much greater speeds. After appreciating his failed strikes she jets forward getting to his back and wrapping her arms around his head. The gladiator uselessly strikes at her as she with great strength snaps the bracings of his armor and breaks his neck.

  Asta drops the lifele
ss gladiator to the ground, and stands looking onto the wreckage with pleasure.

  In the black of night near Qilong city. Thromb and Korydon walk into a tree line that cuts out the massive circular open rolling plains around Throza city. Korydon wearing an open robe with baggy cloth trousers that are tied to his calves with white bands; the white bands around Korydon’s arms and palms as well. His flat circular wicker hat hangs from his back. Thromb’s head freshly shaved on the sides and back leaving just enough of long hair from the top of his head.

  “Why would you risk this sage?” Korydon worried about Thrombs decision.

  “If I don’t uphold my vision for the clans how can I expect anyone else to?” Thromb insists before leaping to a tree kicking off of it to a higher branch then in one smooth motion pulling himself up and jumping off of that branch to the top of a cliff. Korydon follows with less grace but still making it to the top of the cliff expertly.

  “Sometimes I feel you choose the hard way on purpose.” Korydon vents as he catches up with Thromb.

  Thromb holding his pace. “Difficulty can’t be the only consideration when choosing a path.” Thromb counters.

  “And, what if the cleric finds out?” Korydon sharing his thoughts.