Chapter: 772 - Zenith (8) (Patreon)

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Eskau Meallain moved with lazy grace as she sparred amidst the rain.

It was a rain of blows, but it paralleled natural rain in randomness and effectiveness, so she stood by the comparison.

This also wasn’t—strictly speaking—sparring, but she didn’t much care what they were trying to do. She was having fun, and it reminded her of her sparring matches with great masters in years gone by.

The prime commanders had become more potent yet again, but rather than frustrating her, she rose to the occasion, pulling out more skill, more deeply ingrained instinct, more raw ability than she’d ever required before.

This was paradise of a kind she’d never hoped to find.

The only black mark was an oddity to the magic within the automata around her, seemingly isolated to the primes and the supreme, at least for the moment.

It reminded her of that man, the smug tree, and what he’d done to her during their first meeting.

She didn’t want her best fight in centuries to be taken from her before she’d gotten all that she could from it. So, she dug deeper, or more accurately, she spread wider.

There were none to oppose her, not directly.

It had been long years since she’d had free reign to work across such a field of wonders, and back then, the enemy Pillars had known enough to work against her.

Now? The automata had their reality field up, and that left parts of the clash unavailable to her workings, but it also meant that they didn’t contest her at all where she was able to work.

This unique state of things gave her an idea, and after a bit of testing—all while continuing to easily hold her own against her two foes—she understood.

The reality fields and magical auras was yet another area of conflict. She’d never seen it in such contrast; she’d never seen it for the dimension of warfare that it clearly was.

In years past, she’d always seen shades of gray, the magical auras churning in nonsensical back and forths, obscuring what was truly going on.

Now, as it was black and white—reality and magic—her eyes were opened to what should have been clear all along.

Within her helmet, her grin turned truly, terrifyingly feral.

Then, she bent her abilities toward this new field of combat, and the will, aura, and imminence of the fighters on both sides began to shift and sway to a new conductor.

Eskau Meallain laughed as joy beyond understanding washed through her.

This was what she was meant for. This was why she’d been born.

This was her domain in which to thrive.

This was her domain to rule.

She reached out for something she couldn’t quite sense, but that which she knew was all she needed to solidify… something.

Eskau Meallain remembered how she’d described gateless advancement to Eskau Tala and smiled.

She could feel the power around her, and how it regarded her. She wasn’t on the cusp of advancement, but she was at the edge of something.

Her Hallowed status had always felt like an end to her journey, as if the world had recognized her efforts, her skill, her ability, and granted her the status from afar.

The power had acknowledged her as Hallowed, but all involved had known that it wasn’t her who was the basis of that.

In a real sense, her Hallowed state had been hollow.

What lay before her now was the power to fill in that hollow shell, the ability to claim the mantle of Hallowed for herself, under her own power, for her own merit, and it would then be hers irrevocably.

Is this what Eskau Pallaun has been prattling on about? She might owe that old man an apology… But she’d have to see.

She reached out to claim what was hers.

But she couldn’t touch it.

It felt like her hollow shell was filling, but it wouldn’t… crystalize? Come together? Be enough?

The elf growled, catching a prime’s blade between two fingers—in a move that made no sense, but the unmanifest power had to go somewhere—and twisted to kick the thing in the chest, blasting it backward.

She let go of the sword at the last moment, not wanting to deal with the trapped weapon.

Eskau Meallain examined her attempts and was forced to come to an irritating conclusion.

The shortfall wasn’t on her part, which meant that she couldn’t fix the issue herself.

On the contrary, it felt as if what she needed wasn’t something that could be grasped at all. It had to be given.

The barrier barring her goal was something so fragile that the smallest brush would remove it but the entirety was entirely out of her reach.

Then, as if a voice from on-high, words came to her from Eskau Tala. “Whatever you’re doing to control the flow of battle, keep at it! You’re unopposed and have my backing.”

The invisible barrier shattered at those few words, and power of a kind she’d never really understood and rarely encountered carried her actions forward, her hollow shell was filled, and it began to become more. It began to harden into something she could use to continue to advance.

Every attempt to guide the field of combat was more refined, more perfected, more precise.

Her guidance was practically the law of—

“No.” All of Zeme stopped, frozen in an unmoving, eternal instant.

It felt like the whole world shook. At the same time, Eskau Meallain felt like the word had only been within her mind.

A multitude of presences descended upon the clearing, but they touched nothing save her and her power.

Eskau Meallain growled, her metaphysical hand clutching that which she had just grasped, that which she’d never realized that she lacked.

She was the arbiter of the flow of any battle she wished to guide, but that was a paltry thing when so few understood that she could do so.

The elf frowned at the passing thought. What? When have I ever cared if others knew what I have done?

She didn’t. In fact, she could do her work better if others were unaware. So what was this?

Something deep within her longed for acknowledgment… but it wasn’t from random beings. She longed for the world—the bedrock of existence, the concepts that governed all—to see her for what she was.

But the Sovereigns who looked upon her now were not well disposed to her.

She could feel that there was none directly above her—nothing but what seemed to be the remnants of a shattered claim… She didn’t quite understand but, regardless, her grasping didn’t seek to take anything from another who watched on, but that wasn’t enough.

Eskau Meallain prepared for another kind of clash, one of a type she’d never truly engaged with, but she reveled in the coming attempt.

She would be a Hallowed in truth. She would—

The invisible barrier returned, slamming back into existence like a meteor striking the ground. This time, it was within reach. She could push against it, but at the same time, it felt infinitely able to resist her.

Still, that was a step forward. The weakness was hers, and she could overcome anything set before her.

She dug deeper in that frozen moment, finding that the barrier seemed to be woven from the foundations of Zeme, the very concepts rising up to bind her and keep her from her goal.

The voice that came to her in the frozen moment was now familiar, reminding her of the Sovereign who had come to visit her and Eskau Tala so long ago.

“Your sanction stands, little elf. You will not rise before you’ve paid for your transgressions against Zeme.” He let out a clearly discontented sigh. "Come back after your sanction lifts, girl. Give it another thousand years. This choice is the will of the Sovereigns. We have spoken.” There was a momentary pause before the voice added a final addendum. “I look forward to how you’ll speed Zeme onward once you do rise."

The frozen moment ended, and her enhanced power was dampened, unable to crystalize, even if her Hallowed state was no longer hollow.

She had more sway than previously, but she should have had more still. Instead, she could practically feel shackles upon her, holding capacities back to nearly what they had been.

Eskau Meallain felt indignant rage. They were holding her back?

How dare they. The thought was a curse, not a question.

Her eyes burned along with her power, and in that burning, she was able to recognize that the allowance of any improvement had been an attempted concession and an acknowledgment of her step forward, a gift they didn’t have to offer.

It was hers by right, but so was the next step.

They’d chosen to only deny her one.

It was an insult, but at least it was not as great an insult as they could have given.

She would use the morsel, but she wouldn’t be mollified by it. Even so, she’d acted in anger and pain too often, one such incident leading to this exact issue.

She took command of herself and acknowledged that she could do nothing at the moment but make things worse.

Even so, she couldn’t help but speak her mind. “I accept, and accede to the will of the Sovereigns.” Her eyes burned even as she took a careful step and severed yet another leg from the closest prime. “I will also remember this day.”

The world around her resonated with her words in a way she’d never before experienced, not in this exact way.

It was as if Zeme had acknowledged her in her proclamation, and even it feared what would come.

*

Rane felt a spike of joy as events finally lined up.

One of the Leshkin had stymied all attempts to permanently put it or the others down, seemingly possessing an ability that prevented anything from approaching it unless it drew that thing close.

It was the most frustrating of the odd, unique abilities shown by these greater Leshkin, and it had allowed the thing to position itself in gaps and prevent Rane from reaching any Leshkin spiritcore.

But that was about to change.

His hand snapped out, snagging a thick bundle of black-steel cables rather than cutting them as he had every time previous.

The Leshkin jerked back, used to Rane’s defensive maneuvers, and already seeking to pull the stump back before he could do more to cause damage.

But Rane hadn’t cut this time.

He was jerked back toward the Leshkin’s core form, and he got the pleasure of seeing the void-like holes within the creature’s head widen in horrified realization.

Rane’s predatory grin practically glowed from within his skull-helm, his eyes burning with the contained fire of his raging soul.

It was time for all abilities to be used, to make sure that this was a victory and an utterly decisive one as well.

Force swept to the right, severing roots, vines, and metal weapons preventing any from drawing close.

Rane was very careful not to add to his momentum forward. Only the Leshkin’s own action could bring Rane to the vegetative being, and he wouldn’t miss this chance.

His left arm lifted, the heavy white-steel bracer spinning off into blade-like arms to counter attacks coming from the left.

The underlying bone armor pulled apart, revealing itself to be six skeletal arms that had combined to form the protection. Now, they extended to counter the roots spiking up from below.

Finally, it was as if a being rose up from Rane’s back, the skull-helm pulling free and the torso-armor coming with it as he peeled out of the protection.

Enar settled into that shell, taking over and directing the remainder of the skeletal limbs and weaponry to shelter Rane from above.

Rane left Force in the hands of his alternate-interface-piloted armor even as he brought his hands together in what would have been an ear-rending clap if the Leshkin hadn’t been between the palms.

The vegetation burst apart, and Rane coated his hands in what he could of void and reality, reinforcing and filling in the gaps with magic.

As such, he caught the spirit core, even as it tried to flee.

He felt an odd draw from the meager tendrils of void under his control and remembered his wife’s story of briefly consuming Leshkin spirits for power.

That was largely considered an unwise course. As such, he—like Tala and Terry—forewent that option. Still, with the power of what he held, he knew his strength would not be enough. As such, he braced off his wife’s soul—bound to his—using that which she lent freely, her support. With an act of will, he accomplished something that would have been utterly impossible if he’d not also caught the soulcore.

He obliterated that which he held, casing and contents.

It was anything but easy, even if it wasn’t slow.

The act felt like picking up the heaviest weight he could bear and throwing it as far as he could.

The singular act exhausting him unlike anything in the fight had thus far. He’d felt the weight of power through his wife, and while he had the will to wield it at need, he could not do so freely.

He groaned and staggered, spent down to his core, but his comrades were still fighting around him.

They were still in danger.

He was still needed.

Rane still had a connection to Tala’s power, but there was something else within it, a part that felt like it belonged to him as much as her.

Among that which came from all their allies—she’d called it authority, which seemed to fit rather well—a portion was all but placing itself at his disposal as well.

When he took in a deep breath and looked at himself with this odd perspective, he saw those connections did reach him directly.

It linked him to every human on the battlefield with many links leading off into the distance as well.

He grinned, leaning on those links and suddenly feeling his burden lifted a great deal.

It was as if humanity sought his success in this fight. But… that made sense. After all, he was the Sculptor of Motion, Reforged of mankind.

He was fighting for humanity, for all of Zeme.

Rane lunged back into the fray, but his mind was still searching around him for similar chains of power.

That was when he felt it.

There was something similar linking Verity and the prime commanders to the normal commanders. They had uncounted connections trailing off into the distance as well.

Can I break that? The thought was laughable as soon as he had it. It wasn’t a thing that could be broken by such as him.

Still, he saw Tala clashing with Verity, and he felt a surge of trust and love.

She would win… and if she won, wouldn’t it be better if Verity’s loss echoed throughout the Black Legion?

An idea grew within him.

This would make Tala’s job harder, but her inevitable victory would mean greater success.

Rane still wasn’t willing to make that choice for her, even if he could. So, instead, he had Enar convey the idea, trusting her to make the choice that was best.

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