[Ashborn-B1] 81. Aerial Manoeuvres (Patreon)

LXXXI

Aerial Manoeuvres

Jake’s arrow soared and Erri’s serpent blasted forth like it’d grown a set of wings. The bird of prey, which had a slight resemblance to a crane hovered lazily.

Ashwing curved and entered its blindside.

‘How will it react?’

A volley? A shockwave that rebuffed all our attacks? Depending on its answer, my plan of attack would change.

The serpent hurled into the beast and steam kicked up around the impact zone, fogging the area. Jake’s arrows punched into the mist without hesitation.

Though the fog was thick, because of the size of the beast and my vantage, I had eyes on its side and back. It hadn’t moved an inch.

Clouds cleared and revealed the crane hovering as lazily as before. The sole difference was a half frozen serpent attached to it like a waggling tail.

My shoulders sagged. ‘It froze the snake before it hit?’ I thought I hadn’t noticed its techniques so far because of the distance between us, but it was the activation speed of its techniques that made the arts hard to notice.

‘What about the arrows?’ They weren’t glued to its hide, so it must’ve destroyed them.

I peered. No. Small holes drilled into the crane’s skin bubbled and closed.

‘It’s regenerating…seriously?’

Was it even possible to kill this thing? Don’t tell me the only way was to take it out in a single attack…

“Dodge!” Jake yelled.

Ashwing cut a corner and fell into a dive. We dove underneath the blast that ruptured forth. Air froze in the path of the attack, creating a flat plane bigger than a market square. The surface cracked, and pieces of ice broke off to rain down—once they touched the ground, the crystals snapped into smaller versions of the golems which hounded Erri. More pieces peeled off from the plate, morphing into an array of flying golems.

A cluster of them darted towards me.

“Guess it couldn’t be easy,” I mumbled.

Flames roared from Ashwing’s wings, melting the six harpies at once. A branch shot out my palm and hit a gargoyle. I aimed for the wings. Unlike the crane, these didn’t regenerate.

Still, even though they didn’t regenerate…

Branches carved through the sky like javelins. Golem fell and shattered on the ground.

Sweat dripped down my forehead. Even though they didn’t regenerate…

More bice broke off from the plate. So many monsters were forming they blotted out the view.

‘There’s too many.’

I gave up on the missiles and spun yarns of wood instead. The bundles bound multiple of the monsters together so they couldn’t do anything but tumble…it barely made a dent in the rising numbers.

Ashwing and I flicked through the air, our colours a bright blur or red mixed with grey. Below us, Aurille skipped across platforms. Her blade, from which mist pourerd at all times, cleaved through any golem unfortunate enough to find itself in her path. Above her head, ice sharpened to a point, whirred, and found their targets like an experienced archer was shooting.

I swivelled to find the others. Gaje was…Ashwing dove underneath a swiping gargoyle. Where was Gaje—

A tremor passed through the surface overhead.

I whirled…and blinked. ‘We can stand on that?’

Gaje loomed on the thin plate, which didn’t look stable enough for someone of his size. Either the Nightmare defied the basic laws of nature and didn’t care, or an art was allowing him to do so. The footing let him cull the freshly spawned golems with a terrifying ferocity. Where I killed two golems, Gaje slayed six in the same time.

And still we weren’t making any headway.

‘There has to be a trick to this.’

I studied the energy hanging around the crane.

“Aurille!” I called at a loss.

“The sphere.” Her missiles destroyed an enemy squad. “The sphere is sustaining them.”

Ashwing curved so I got a better view. Swirls of transparent energy seeped from the sphere into the crane, who in turn fed the plate.

The energy drain on the sphere was minimal. We’d be at this for days.

That’s why the crane didn’t bother turning in our direction—we couldn’t hurt it. Neither could we destroy the horde before the king summoned the next wave of golems. This was checkmate, whichever way one looked at the scenario.

…

Checkmate, huh? I turned north. We’d closed the distance towards the king. From this close, he towered over us like no entity or building had ever done. My previous comparison likening us to ants had been generous.

‘The shrine is about defending the Divine Beast.’

So we were told. But was that all? The golems were attacking us, but that didn’t mean that was their only goal.

My senses pierced the ground. If my theory was correct–

I locked onto the leylines Aurille had pointed me to earlier. They were part of a formation that fed the pillars…but not all of the energy was heading towards the columns.

A great deal of the flow was being reversed.

‘Damn it.’

Just like the Divine Beast was growing stronger, the king was growing stronger, too. It wasn’t just us who had to do the defending!

I whirled back to the fight. I’d bet everything I owned that the crane would start attacking in earnest if we made our way towards the king. So what did we do?

“I’ll hold him off.” Aurille landed on a platform beside me.

I frowned. “Surely, you don’t mean by yourself.”

“Gaje’s help will be enough. Take Erri and fight the king.” She held out her hand. A great ring of icicles formed around her like a serpent. Though her missiles carved through dozens of golems at once, her gaze remained trained on Gaje’s back.

My breathing slowed. “Aurille.”

The princess of the Snow Moon clan spared me a sidelong glance.

“Don’t do anything stupid and die,” I said.

The roiling curtain of ice javelins reformed and spun around her once more. The corners of her lips pulled upwards by the barest fraction.

“I’ll be alright,” she said. “I’m stronger than I look.”

I stared her down. ‘Stronger than she looks, huh.’ Was she trying to say what she did to the scorn wasn’t her full power? That she had something greater beyond that?

Cold winds ruffled my hair. All this frost in the air, the chill seeping into the world…how much would an environment like this benefit her?

I nodded and dove towards Erri. “Erri, rejoice! We’re going on a trip together!”

The Dragonflight heiress whirled on me after she floored a golem and had her serpents devour it alive. She glanced up at Aurille, turned towards Gaje, and then to me.

Her gaze narrowed between the slits of her helmet. “It’s that time already?”

The confusion on my face was only half feigned.

She scoffed. “Where are we headed? That big guy in the distance?”

“Yeah.”

“What about us?” Jake said as he loosed another shot.

“Ren will stay here,” I said. “It’ll be only us three.”

Erri’s tail twirled.

Yes. Just the three of us.

Judith’s arts were activating quicker, and it wasn’t because of the holy commander in their midst.

Essence hurled out of her channels so sharply it almost cut her veins. ‘Is this feeling normal?’ Her light blew a hole into one of the scorn. She targeted the joints so the undead could no longer move despite not dying.

Should I lower my output? Dorothy said.

The bone skull on her staff whirled around at a scorn leaping at her from her blindspot. It didn’t get close enough to sniff the sweat-stains on her robe.

‘No. It’s fine.’ She’d just have to get used to it.

Rather too fast and in pain, than too slow and dead.

‘Can you help me cast?’ Judith thought.

She envisioned Dorothy’s arms wrapping around her neck. Will do.

The hum of the speeding energy inside her faded into background noise. Judith exhaled. Amongst the screams of triumph and cries of pain, she tried to keep a memory close at hand.

She saw her mother. Despite being a harsh taskmaster and ensuring all of her sons and daughters had received the appropriate training, the Lady of their branch of the family wasn’t big on pretence. The one-piece dress woven from a soft, velvet-like material, ebbed and flowed with each step she took through their estate’s garden. Judith remembered walking beneath the curated archways of trees that freshened the air.

Her mother walked beside her. “Judith.”

She looked up. Her mother’s face was one of sharp edges, the very ones their clan honoured more than anything, and those cyan eyes only added a sense of mystique to the ensemble.

“If the First Commandment is to cut,” her mother said, “can you guess at the second?”

Her voice was like a scissor. Not cutting per say, but an instrument whose purpose was to split. Ideas. Misconceptions. Ignorance or pride—they were all meaningless before her mother.

Judith thought the question was strange but considered it with absolute seriousness. A sword really only had two purposes.

“Defence?” Judith stammered. She hated getting questions. Mother’s disappointment when she failed to answer right always wracked her insides.

This time, however, she received a smile. “Well done, Little Ju.”

‘Little Ju.’ That nickname was reserved for when she did something right. How long had it been since she heard it?

In her mother’s beaming smile, Judith found her reflection staring back. It wasn’t a little girl she saw, but the sorcerer of today, with her left eye covered. Behind Judith floated a near limitless mass of light.

Mother crouched and whispered in her ear: “I’ll show it you. But only if you promise not to tell daddy. It’ll be our little secret.”

The memory shot off, her mother’s smile the last to fade. Then the screams and cries crashing through the shrine returned.

Judith exhaled the remnants of a shiver. ‘Remember.’

Palms wrapped tighter around her staff. The hems of her robe kicked up as if in a sudden gust. At her spirit’s call, Dorothy opened the flood gates for the essence rushing through her pathways.

Be careful, Dorothy said.

Judith didn’t respond. The whole of her mental field of view reduced and honed on the gem encrusted in the head of her staff. The Second Commandment was one she’d never been able to learn, and also the one that’d made Mother give up on her.

Despite the Second Command and First Commandment being opposites of each other, both techniques used the same activation sequence. The difference lay in the mentality. The intention behind the art.

In front of her, the scorn washed over the land. Light shields flared. Weapons burrowed into dead flesh. The commander knight moved and rend six undead at once, while his other knights each killed two.

Yet more than enough enemies remained for Judith to practise on. Light pushed from her pores and spun around her as if she was threading it on a giant wheel. Within the luminance, the defined shapes of a thousand blades drew themselves into existence.

‘Blade Storm.’

Light and scorn collided. Edges cut into dead flesh and ripped into bones. The undead were left half limping and broken.

‘Shallow,’ she cursed. She should’ve cleaved through each and every single one.

*Don’t worry, you can try again—

“That’s a good technique you’re attempting there.”

Both Dorothy’s voice and her blood stilled.

A black feather rode the winds and fell past her face. His descent was like the coming of a fallen angel, who’d been cast from the heavens forever more.

Vyke hovered a few paces in front of her.

She breathed out deep and aimed her staff.