Chapter 170 & 171: Vow
🕑 Added 2024-07-20 23:28:49 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: This chapter is ~8000 words long. Take it as two chapters since I don't want to split it, as it is so much better to read in one go! I also didn't post anything as I worked on that part, so sorry about that. It was more of a problem that I had no time to edit and could only write. Editing requires much more silence and concentration, while writing can be done anywhere. I hope you like it!
...
Every step they took stirred the dusty, finely-grained earth into the air. Every breath burned their lungs, and every gulp felt as if they had drunk acid. The conditions in the heart of Kratikal were horrible, and every one of the very noticeable individuals who walked through the camp of refugees noticed the effects of such an environment immediately.
Gone was the time which only brought a mentally debilitating effect, exchanged with a full-blown corrosion of the body and mind. As such, while Lorient acclimated to the environment, even enjoying it due to her [Divinity Line], some of her companions weren't doing well. They used mana artifacts that eroded relatively quickly or a spell to filter the air, saturating in minutes and needing to be cast anew.
'Good choice, Alex.'
Therefore, when they walked through the camp, Lorient couldn't praise Alexander enough for his decision despite the consequences he could face when discovered—a gamble she could respect.
'Was Mom wrong?'
However, besides her little brother's risky actions, she also thought about her Mother's teachings. Even though she told them one needed to be cold and calculative regarding governance and their subjects, Lorient couldn't.
'This is just horrible.'
Seeing these abhorrent conditions, she would always choose Alexander's plan, especially knowing its positive effects. Sometimes, it was acceptable to circumvent laws and vows when it made sense to her, especially after being told by her Father to follow that feeling more than anything else.
'They really found some creative ways to deal with it.'
Most buildings were made of skinned demonic leather and painted with their blood, which acted as an absorbent. Even now, Lorient could see how the miasma was getting absorbed instead of entering the tents through the cracks, which meant they frequently needed a new paint job.
Furthermore, on the inside were buckets filled with blood, also counteracting the aggressive miasma.
'This... is not enough, though.'
While Makol told them their methods, to which Ocilia and Aurum tried to listen attentively, Lorient couldn't help but watch the people living in absolute misery. She saw hunger, thirst, sickness, and a general sense of hopelessness.
She knew roughly their history and understood why Moorgrel didn't want them in their territory, as they had been literal aggressors toward their kin. As such, she would understand that eliminating them was appropriate, as every Empire had done it to other kin in many ways. However, torturing others like this was too cruel.
Of course, she understood the Count's intention to let them die far away from his territory. After all the horrible ways he won wars, following his ancestor's traditions of viciousness, he wanted to appear amicable toward the Temple for once, which made him do this kind of thing.
However, it was a miracle that they survived until now, and even though they made a mistake in the past, which was debatable, they deserved a second chance, in her opinion.
'Damn it, Alex, why can't you just be some lazy ass like Sarah.'
At first, she wanted to cancel this whole ordeal after hoping to see somewhat acceptable conditions, but it just shouldn't happen. Everyone's eyes were filled with death and a craving for survival, something one had if they knew that they could die any day now.
'This...'
When Lorient looked more closely at them, there was something, a certain sparkle of hope. They knew they could survive—a small boat in the turbulent sea of sorrow and despair.
'I see, so those are our rations.'
While traveling to this place, she chatted with Makol and Algol, trying to sense their intentions and sentiments. She wanted to protect her little brother, and if they showed even a smidge of hostile demeanor, she would've personally eradicated the place, no matter how pitiful they were.
Little to say, when she mentioned Alexander's name, it was like the clouds parted after a storm. They praised him and loved him with every fiber of their being. As such, when Makol walked through the camp, mentioning his name loudly, the people nearby began to smile, and some even cried. It was ridiculous, as if he became a saint.
'This damn feeling again.'
Lorient clenched her hands, sensing an emotion coming up from the deepest part of her body: jealousy. It was her biggest fault and something she hated, which made her rush to leave the estate, fleeing from her siblings, who were all monsters in their own right.
She hated them and herself, especially Alexander, who identified the problem perfectly of those poor people and found a solution that would satisfy everyone—hate, and jealousy.
Everyone praised and loved him. He was a genius, a saint, and undeniably the successor, possibly even destroying the current structures with his visions and ideas—self-hatred and weltschmerz.
Worst of all, he was a great sibling, trying to help her with everything he could, making Lorient feel even worse—a nightmarish, neverending cycle of endless despair and guilt. Envy—all she could feel was envy, making her angrier at herself, her brother, and everyone else.
"This is bad."
"Ms. Lorient, our situation became so much better, actually."
Before Lorient almost exploded from the whirlwind of emotions, having tears in her eyes and not knowing what to do, she was interrupted by Makol, who smiled at her.
'Whoops, I spoke aloud... right, get your shit together!'
Lorient forgot where she was and what she promised to do, sinking into her dooming thoughts, which she decided to ignore for now. It was now time for her to do something more important than marinate in self-pity again.
"Because of the food?"
"Among other things, the talismans from the Temple helped the most since many of our weakest members are parents of most prominent warriors, and their dying would probably make them leave for good. As such, we also thought about adapting the religion, but again, we do not really..."
Makol started to talk a lot about the Temple, and while all night elves subraces had their own thing going on, it seemed that he didn't care anymore. Religion became for him a practicality, with who could give the most benefits.
Lorient also had no concern for religions, so she only nodded and sometimes sprinkled an oh and ah into the mix, trying to sound interested. All the while, Aurum and the others tried to observe the camp's societal structure for administrative and political reasons.
"This way, please, the elders and the previous leader are waiting."
"Previous leader?"
They arrived before a giant tent, stopping before it, with Makol looking a little ashamed. Lorient became confused since she was told they needed to overthrow the previous chief before working towards the betterment of the camp, like doing illegal deals in a far more extensive fashion to finance food, potions, etc., for them.
"I thought you got him—" She drew a line across her neck, "—you know?"
However, Lorient seemed to have misunderstood. She thought every coup was followed by someone losing their head and the whole household getting eradicated—Moorgrelian style.
"Well—"
What Makol told her made no sense, at least for what she knew about governance and common sense. They overthrew him but also didn't kill him. There was apparently no bad blood between them, and even though he started to resist, there were no deaths, and he backed off by himself, not wanting to kill his people.
'I somewhat like him.'
Lorient respected such behavior even though she disagreed with his actions. Still, he had his priorities straight and stayed true to his vow, never wanting to break those promises. Ultimately, he was an idealist and nutjob with too much honor and pride, which wasn't that unusual with capable and single-minded warriors.
"—So, if you see him wearing a slave collar, he decided to wear it to show the position he is holding now, humiliating himself—" Makol sighed but quickly got to a wide and genuine smile, "—however, please don't worry and feel at home since you are our honorable guests!"
Makol sprinted toward the tent's entrance and opened the curtains, bowing down as respectfully as he could, "Let me welcome you to our council!"
Lorient straightened up, forcing herself to show some of the etiquette she had learned long ago. However, when they walked inside and removed their hoods and cloaks, she saw quite the sad but cute assortment they could offer.
'That's... really sad, but at least they tried.'
While the tent was interestingly decorated with colorful rugs made and sewn together from all kinds of demons, the drawings on the walls were also fascinating. They showed what appeared to be their history, depicted in a very sad and depressive way.
Many accessories and other gimmicks adorned the place, making it incredibly charming. Overall, it was a feast for the eye, but the smell ruined it.
'It's our stuff...'
The food and drinks they served on or in beautiful tableware were cheap, be it tea, wine, or anything else. Through her sense of smell, she could identify them immediately.
However, while impolite, it was more of a statement of their situation than their conduct, which she excused immediately. Remembering the scenes she saw on the outside, she even started to like that their council wasn't decadent.
'They adopted Alex's ideas. I can't.'
Makol quickly approached them, bringing them to a weirdly familiar situation. Before them was a circle of chairs, something they apparently tried a couple of times before and after their meetings to get to know each other better—Alexander called it icebreakers.
Multiple other people stood before their seats and looked at them curiously, all with smiles and warm attitudes. Most of them were very young and, from what she knew, new to their specializations.
A night elfish woman wearing rather dirty linen clothes, looking like a beggar. However, how she moved and acted showed certain sophistications similar to Sarusos but much more clumsy, lacking experience—she had the great makings of a spy and fighter. It was one of their people responsible for intelligence, playing a beggar to collect easier information.
On the other side was a wind djinn man, holding a fan, looking slim and feminine. He was genuinely beautiful and had the same charisma as Narsiz, just more seductive and much less noble. He opened multiple businesses in Wolfsteeth, part Underworld and part legal like brothels.
Further to the right was a thick scavenger woman, smiling widely with a neverending casual charm. However, she looked only at Algol, who blushed slightly. Apparently, his wife or lover was also responsible for the camp's defense.
To the far left was a shy wind-djinn woman wearing a relatively cheap suit and looking very frightened. It was their new council member—brilliant. While young, she had talent in accounting and finance. She would be the person they needed to talk to when doing trading deals.
'This group reminds me heavily of Alex and his people.'
All of them were very young and full of vigor, as they should be. A foundation needed to be built, and only the youth had the energy to do something like this. Unfortunately, the previous chief didn't care for anything like that, letting their talents succumb to absurdity or irrelevant occupations, where their abilities became wasted.
'All because of one person.'
Had they started much earlier to do some business, their situation could have looked very different, 'Never mind—' Regardless of what could've been, for now, these people were the ones they would deal with. Be it information or trade, everything was on the table.
'Oh, but look at that guy.'
When the camp's council arrived before them, they all bowed, showing great respect. Still, someone wasn't willing to do the same, still sitting alone before a table and drinking wine while staring at their group.
'Well, they got lucky that he has honor 'n stuff.'
Even though he was barely doing anything, it was obvious who it was, and Lorient could directly sense that he was genuinely powerful, emitting an aura of pure domination.
"That's enough, Habog!"
Makol immediately noticed the attitude, shutting him up and emitting his aura, trying to counteract. However, it was much weaker and clearly not made for something like that. He was a hunter, not a leader, and he had only chosen this position to help his people.
'If our meetings and balls were like this, I would've visited them much more often.'
Lorient found what was happening exciting. A glaring contest ensued, and the room became charged. The camp's council walked slightly backward, probably expecting the worst, while Makol was about to explode, seeing how he was about to emit killing intent.
"Wow! It really feels like home with all the tension, haha!"
Surprising even Lorient, Aurum walked forward, opening his arms and smiling like a greasy sales clerk. He was not in the slightest perturbed and knew what to do without showing any fear—no skills needed as his smile alone was enough to distract everyone.
'Like Salyna.'
Lorient knew from meetings how Salyna was when she knew nobody. She hid her usual poisonous self and tried her best to appear as amiable as possible, showing immense confidence and friendliness. Only later would she bend them over and take everything she could.
However, Alexander's group decided to initially help them with trade and other subjects, slowly giving them the experience they needed until they could act on their own. If they met someone like Salyna, it would be over for them.
"Now, you are probably..."
What followed was that Habog and Makol became confused, while Aurum and others ignored all the etiquette and what they prepared as icebreakers. He waved them to him and walked toward the council, immediately talking and introducing himself.
It was like nothing had happened. It was a nice and cozy round, with them mostly talking about casual things and trying to get to know each other.
"Hey, sugar, you know that you look cute?"
"I... what?! I am sorry..."
"Ignore him. He is always horny and probably never slept with a wind djinn."
"I see, but..."
"What do you mean I never slept with one?—" Quill rubbed his chin, "—what about a threesome with a guy who was a wind djinn? Does this count?"
"Did you have sex with him?"
Quill pulled out his cigarette case, taking one, "Nah, I am not gay, sugar—" He held it before the anxious wind djinn, offering a smoke, a habit of his.
"I..."
Ocilia sighed, "Why are you this dense?"
Before the wind-djinn could take one, not knowing what to do, he pulled it away, gesturing a little more emotionally, "What? Is asking now so bad? Lo..."
The wind djinn interrupted him, almost screaming, nervous, and blushing, "I have a partner. I am so sorry!"
Quill blanked and looked at her for a moment only to smile while igniting his cigarette, "How about a threeso—" Pack! "—ow?! Why?!"
Ocilia hit the back of his head, "Shut up and try to act accordingly!"
Lorient also talked with them, but it was only nonsensical chit-chat. There was little to speak about other than that. Alexander ensured that their dealings, on whatever topic, had already been dealt with, which meant that her little brother threw coins at them to make it work.
However, after some short casual talk, they started the gift-giving phase, which was quite fun. Alexander's group mostly brought them an array of supplies and some books, including his fairy tales, for which they were grateful. Funnily enough, some of them immediately opened them and, while reading, started to praise him for the writing.
'Calm down... just ignore it.'
After Lorient tried to ignore her innermost emotions with all of her might, she diverted her attention to the gifts they received, which were useless for everyone else but her.
'This is some good quality—' She genuinely was happy about it, '—I need to ask them for more.'
It was high-quality armor and weapons made out of the skin and bones of demonic beings, saturated with sinister energy. Only Lorient could use them without going crazy, which she would do since they were highly robust against her energy.
Hours passed, and they slowly started to open up more. However, this also meant they sometimes spoke freely about Alexander, something Lorient couldn't stand. They saw him as some saint, something she tried to ignore until it became too much, needing to excuse herself.
'I understand, but...'
Lorient's heart clenched as the usual sense of inferiority awoke and rose again. She left to become stronger and more useful, but what she saw as significant progress, her little brother towered her again—hate.
'This is wrong.'
She couldn't feel any joy for her brother and knew it was horrible, but it was as if something sinister and wicked whispered into her ear, wanting to make her hate him and the world. It made her furious, wanting to destroy his progress, but knowing it was wrong with the little reason left, she was about to leave until something irritated her.
"What are you looking at?"
Habog, the previous leader, wasn't talking with anyone, just sitting and staring into the empty space. He was genuinely the perfect representation of this colorful camp—dark reddish skin of a scavenger, with yellowish scales and the great eyes with three pupils of Makol's night elf's race—a slender but still musculous body with knife ears. His hair was long and bound into a braid, with a youthful appearance of no older than a hundred years.
Yet, for some inexplicable reason, he glared at Lorient, which she could ignore for some time until her emotions flared up. At that point, she couldn't hold back anymore and even thankful for the welcoming distraction.
Everyone in the room turned to her and then to Habog, the festivities ending, and a long and uncomfortable silence ensuing. The air became ever so thicker, with Aurum already readying himself to intervene to defuse it again.
"Ha! I promised my ancestors I would not break my contract with the Count for a gamble on our existence, not even if it meant suffering for all eternity since we would at least exist."
After he emptied a wine bottle, he smirked at her, becoming talkative and having a certain glint in his eyes, something Lorient couldn't stand. It was one that only the most stubborn had, never changing their stand for anything.
It was not rational or logical but cowardice. If Lorient's kin didn't fight for their land, spilling blood and eradicating families and races, they would still be enslaved, living like animals.
"You would rather have your people die than give them a chance by breaking some stupid promise and risk it? What a great leader you are—" She smirked suddenly, remembering, "—sorry, I meant were."
Stagnant water—an apt description for leaders who were like him. Undiplomatic and following their customs even if it meant despair. She hated such people and was never able to understand them.
"You show nothing but stagnation, which will slowly kill your people. A risk is not equal to betting everything on one move, but you are literally trapped in here, fearing even to take the most minor steps for the betterment of your people."
There were no absolutes but change, something one needed to adapt to or die—a mindset ingrained in every Moorgrelian by their history. They were ruthless, bloodthirsty, diplomatic, welcoming, and everything in between—a necessity to not only survive but also flourish.
"What does a child like you know? This is a mistake. Once failed, will you still support us after the Count punishes us for breaking the oath we made for generations?"
Habog slowly stood up, towering over her with a size equal to her Father. The aura he emitted was dangerous, almost showing killing intent, but mostly just wanting to frighten her.
As Makol was about to intervene with the others of her group, also wanting to stop the incoming confrontation, she wouldn't let them, "How cute—" Lorient emitted her own aura, trying to match his, which was easy enough.
"Me? No, but—" She straightened up, looking down on him, "—my brother will, and it doesn't matter what an agreement said hundreds of years ago when everyone thinks you are dead already."
The atmosphere in the room became almost unbearable, and she sensed how frustrating it was for everyone. They were forgotten and still followed a nonsensical vow nobody cared about. Worse, most Moorgrelians with some historical knowledge thought they were dead already.
"When Alexander brought this to his group, everybody thought you all died and were gone. The scavengers, night elves, and wind djinns we see in Wolfsteeth will never be associated with the camp. For us, it was nothing but a footnote, and until now, nobody cared for you—" She squinted at him, "—you are a vermin, not being in the slightest thankful toward the only noble trying to help you."
What she told was the truth, and somewhat not. Nobody cared about them and forgot that they even existed. It was a curious thought that they sometimes robbed a caravan, with her parents accepting it and instructing their people to see this as a donation. All that would be left of them after they died would be inside some cabinet in an accountant's office—a write-off, no more.
"So, tell me, big guy, as the strongest of the camp, do you really want to hold onto an agreement nobody cares about, fearing the day some poor bastard tries to frame you for something nobody cares about, or are you ready to save your people by spilling blood and conquering a piece of livable land like a real leader?"
Again, an uncomfortable and charged silence descended upon the room. Habog could not believe what he had heard, going so far as to stare at her, bewildered. Still, after another moment, he laughed out loud, becoming increasingly more aggressive with the aura emitted, as if his emotions flared up after years of numbness.
"Hahaha! Fine! I swore a vow that can only be broken if someone fights me in a fair, one-on-one duel, taking my position, and through this, I will follow whoever wants to take the responsibility off my shoulders, the fate of my folk."
His aura exploded, with waves crashing against Lorient, "This is how my Father, Grandmother, and Great-Grandfather did it, so I will follow in their footsteps. If one is without pride, one can't be a true being but a monster, and I am not ready to become one, and may it be fear, so will I still not risk my folk on a wager—" His smile widened, "—but if you take my position, so you may as this world should and is only reigned by strength."
Lorient needed to concentrate as the aura became increasingly threatening, almost triggering her fight-or-flight instinct, wanting to rip his head off.
"Haha—" He stared at her down, his aura becoming increasingly pressuring, "—nobody was able to take my place by following the proper traditions, but if you are that confident in your morals, let's follow the ways of the old world and decide who is right through strength! If you beat me, I will become your most loyal subordinate and fight at whatever battlefield you point me to, but if you lose—" His smile widened, "—you will leave the camp and never come close to it again. Are we okay, little girl? Such a wager should be acceptable since I will not stake your folk's life on it."
Lorient was suddenly confused, but she didn't need long to decide what she wanted and immediately felt euphoric. She accidentally laughed like her Father, like a madman.
"Guahhaha! That's how I like it! Pure and barbaric! Let's have a duel!"
...
An hour later
On a field outside the camp, two individuals were encircled by a mass of people, whispering and chatting. Curiosity and tension filled the air. It was like in the olden days when Moorgrelian Guard Households continuously challenged the nobles from central Mal-Gil to duels. Sadly, such traditions were abandoned by the Count as it became notorious that his Knights would challenge everyone because of the slightest aggression, killing them.
'I like it, though.'
When the setting sun shone on the young woman's fur while she stretched her muscles, illuminating her scarlet hair, it felt freeing. It was as if all her worries had disappeared, as she had only one goal to work toward—no convoluted plans or decisions, just simple combat.
'I can't believe that such a thing even existed.'
However, the person before her was a monster. After removing the slave collar, Lorient could only now feel his natural strength. Tier 3 and far above what a regular officer in their military could do at such a level.
Lorient licked her lips, becoming even more excited. She could now prove herself, let out her frustration, and make up a little for Alexander for all the good he had done for her.
"Quill, if she is about to die, I want your ass in the ring."
"Don't worry, I will immediately bind him should something happen."
"Hm, I never understood why everyone wants to fight for no reason. But I am also ready to charge in."
While Habog put on some multilayered leather armor made by skinning what looked like the least cuddly demons, Lorient tried to ignore Alexander's retainers, who didn't trust her to win.
'Can't blame them, though.'
Habog grabbed a massive double-bladed axe. With a swing, it created an enormous windstorm, slightly shaking the earth. His aura became steadfast, emitting continuous killing intent.
"Makol, I need you..."
"I know."
His physical prowess was somewhat worrying, but not to the extent that she would run away. She was strong for her age and level, trained in martial arts, and even learned a technique, which was mandatory before leaving.
'Now I can show my worth—' She shook her head, '—why did I think that? Relax, just think how to beat his ass.'
Lorient took her martial arts stand and released her energy, trying to empty her head of useless emotions and thoughts. The demonic energy slowly made its way over her tail, hands, and feet like a bubbling and wobbling pudding. With every moment, it became denser until it was crackling and swinging vigorously.
"I see. The Leonandras have a great protegee."
Habog whistled, also taking his stand. What he said appeared genuine, but Lorient could only laugh, thinking it was a joke. She would need to be born in another generation to be the best, far away from the monsters she knew as her siblings.
"Guhahaha! Me and protegee? Are you kidding me? I am but average. However, let's see if you can actually—" She opened her eyes wide, shocked, seeing something she didn't expect "—what?!"
Habog also started releasing his energy, which, to Lorient's surprise, was demonic. It was much less volatile and had an aura much weaker than what she had seen from her Mother, but he was definitely one of their kin.
"You... are an Outsider—" Her surprise quickly turned into a smile and joy, "—Hahaha! You are something like nobility! Do you know this?! Why did you let yourself coup like that?!"
Outsiders had the same energy as theirs but were born without their blood. While it was very rare, it was never seen as negative. Like Fenrir, they awoke something precious and were immediately taken in and trained. It was a sure way to get a somewhat semi-noble status from the get-go.
Unfortunately, they could not pass it down in most cases, but when they could, they could create a household and join the Guard Dogs. However, they would also need a tremendous amount of merits and generations of continuous offspring with the energy.
"You want me to become an unhonorable dog like you and sacrifice the little bit of life my people have for luxuries? I was, I am, and will be the leader of my people. If you want me to kneel—" His smile widened into excitement and disgust, "—you will just need to beat me! Those are my traditions and so my will!"
Habog took a step forward, and the earth cracked under the weight of his power. Although his energy was still somewhat unrefined and didn't have the same weight as hers, it was still dangerous to be attacked by it.
"Fine. I will take your position, and you will become my subordinate! You will follow every order I command you to, and for once, you will see what real leadership looks like!"
Did Lorient want to become a leader? If she were honest, it would be a clear yes. However, because of Narsiz and Sarah, she gave up her ambitions early on, knowing that one of them would be a better fit.
Yet, when she saw herself leading others, her greed flared up, her muscles tensed, and something inside awoke as if it had been put down forcibly to sleep, only now to gaze into the world and desire what she always wanted—greed and jealousy.
Habog laughed loudly, "Haha! Great! I follow only the strong! Now co—" He was interrupted when she started to dash toward him, "—so young and impatient!"
When she came close, his energy erupted, and he slashed toward her, the massive double-sided axe looking like it weighed nothing more than a feather while still having the weighty momentum of a charging boar.
However, it was trivial for Lorient to dodge, as it was her specialty. She jumped into the air, gracile and elegantly, like she had trained her whole life.
She especially paid attention to whether it looked aesthetically pleasing. For many, this was nonsense, but not for her. Beauty was always something she admired.
"Big mistake, child!"
With her mid-air, planning her next moves, she saw how, after Habog's swift slash, he elliptically moved the axe back, readying another attack, using his common sense that she couldn't dodge since someone so young wouldn't have any skills like [Air Walk].
'Moron.'
A slim and barely passable construct appeared under her shoe soles. Her energy immediately invaded it, immensely strengthening the spell's potency.
Bang!
The pressure spell's construct appeared, exploding. The generated wind became chaotic and shot Lorient toward Habog like an arrow. Lorient easily avoided the incoming attack by pressing forward and putting enough energy to kill Tier 3 demons.
While she had almost unlimited energy, the same wasn't true for her mana. Still, because both of them were connected, she could create flimsy constructs and fill them up with her energy, creating hundreds of times more potent spells with only a fraction of the usual mana costs.
Boom!
As such, her surprise attack was successful. She put an enormous amount of energy into her fist and rammed it into his face, making even the ground shake and crack by her sheer force.
"Nice one, kiddo!"
"What?!"
Lorient wasn't that surprised that he still stood, contributing it to his incredible will and excellent physical fitness, but what surprised her was that he was fine. She could only now see that he created a very dense layer of energy around his face, smiling.
"How... urgh!"
As she was about to fall after hitting him, still confused by his strength, she suddenly felt how her innards were pressed together, and the air left her lungs. She ascended upwards.
'I can't breathe!'
Habog hit her with his free arm directly into the stomach while she was mid-air, an uppercut that made her almost puke since she didn't protect that area with any energy.
'Quickly... shit!'
She quickly needed to counteract as he reversed her descent, but he was faster. He was already ducking and rotating his upper body, about to get another hit in, but this time, he was about to use energy, an amount that could easily kill her.
Without thinking much, she covered her body with energy, now trying to create multiple layers in front of her instead of a dense and thin one, somehow trying to disrupt the sheer force that was now coming toward her.
Bang!
The back fist hit her, breaking through layers upon layers, only to hit the last one, which still held, being around her rips. However, the ridiculous physical strength was enough to break her bones, making her fly far away, still in mid-air.
'Where...'
Because of the pain, she was in a slight daze, not knowing where up and down was. All she could think about was how to counterattack, but she was now on the defense, in a terrible position to be against someone with such a significant amount of strength.
'I am an idiot!'
Worse, she also had no idea what kind of demonic energy it was. All of them had a unique effect. For example, her's was explosive and best used in bursts, while her Mother's was highly parasitic, more than usual, and best used over a long period.
With a quick propulsion spell on her hands and feet, she quickly tried to orient herself again, mid-air. While worried, it was too late for her to think about it, with now needing to react to what was coming left as her only option.
"A fine young girl! Now show me how you avoid this!"
Lorient glanced in his direction, seeing how he took his axe with both hands and brought it over his head. With it, suddenly, the air became stale, and time seemed to stand still.
'Death.'
The energy she felt made her blood freeze. She could now clearly see what kind of effect Habog's energy had. The air whirled around it, sucking all the miasma in, making it bigger and denser while his muscles bulged, barely able to hold it together.
'My fucking luck!'
The energy's unique ability was to use the environmental miasma to become stronger. Still, it also seemed to strain his body so much that she could see how his muscles trembled, barely able to hold the massive energy he conjured.
"Here I go! Good luck!"
Habog swung his axe, and a wave of destruction descended unto the world, with it coming quickly toward her like a dashing wild beast wanting to rip her apart.
'...'
Lorient became calm as she had only seconds to decide what to do. Using her energy to take the attack directly would critically injure her, and avoiding it was also impossible since it was too broad; with her still somewhat poorly oriented, she could kill herself if she made a mistake.
'Nr. 74, Dispersion Arts it is then.'
Before leaving, she learned only one Leonandra Martial Arts Technique, which wasn't practically a movement or energy one but something in between, created by the weakest of her ancestors, for defensive purposes.
However, while she disliked it, favoring a more offensive strategy, this technique was still overpowered in every sense, making it mandatory for everyone to learn it.
'Concentrate.'
Lorient closed her eyes and stretched her body mid-air, putting her propulsion spell construct on herself. The constructs were opposite each other, on her soles and shoulders.
'Soon.'
As the wave of death approached, she quickly activated the spell and contracted her body, with her nose touching her knees. She started to spin like a ball inside a tornado, accelerating rapidly.
'I need to puke, urgh!'
Lorient closed her eyes for a good reason: She couldn't stand the rotation. However, she could still envelop herself with dense and firm energy, which spun slower than her, creating multiple-layered energy shields circling at different speeds.
'Argh! Fuck me!'
The attack hit her like a giant hammer, the pressure increasing continuously until she could sense how her bones and muscles cracked and stretched to unnatural degrees. Lorient needed to use at least three-fourths of her energy to shield herself while rotating so she wouldn't explode.
'I... love it!'
However, her body loved it. She felt excited, wanting to challenge herself, break, and grow from it. Every slight pain she felt made her smile broader while resisting death.
Boom!
The energy wave hit her directly, making her fly away and explode further away from Habog and the group of onlookers. While they were impressed, he only raised an eyebrow, confused and sighing, a little disappointed.
"She will survive."
He couldn't sense anything since a massive smoke screen appeared after the explosion, but he knew that taking such an attack head-on while still so young would render everyone bedridden for weeks.
"Hm, good fight—" He played with his axe, rotating and looking toward the surprised crowd, shrugging, "—she isn't dead, so don't... argh!"
From inside the dust cloud, a spear made out of energy flew right toward him, with him barely blocking it, swinging his axe widely, only to get pushed back by what seemed an unnaturally dense amalgamation of energy around something like a stone, "—damn it!—" While he could block it, his whole body trembled from the overextension of the previous attack.
"You are dead, you fucker!"
Habog unexpectedly lost half of his sight as something grazed his right side. Fortunately, he could instinctively avoid a critical hit, sacrificing his vision by slightly turning his head.
However, before thinking further, he sensed how pure terror appeared beside him. He instinctively turned around, slicing horizontally, using a bit of his energy since he was still not fully recovered after his massive attack. Still, it felt like he hit something unmovable.
"Wha... Argh!"
After seeing a monster surrounded by dense demonic energy, his nose cracked. He was pushed backward and fell. However, even before touching the ground, Lorient appeared right above him, looking excited and smiling as if he had a nightmare, wanting nothing more than to rip him apart. He became frightened for the first time after a very long time.
"Survive this!"
Lorient put her hands together, creating an incredible amount of dense energy, and like a hammer, smashed down on his chest, which he barely could protect against by using every skill and the little energy he could quickly bring out.
BOOM!
An explosion followed when she hit him, sending him into the ground and creating a crater through the incredible amount of force she used, "More... more..."
Lorient stood over Habog's unconscious body, still shaking and wanting more, not able to cease her smile. She was an adrenaline-filled monster, excited to kill.
'Calm... calm.'
As Lorient tried to relax, she thought about what had happened. She barely survived the attack, sensing the pain of how part of her body was damaged, with most likely some organs damaged and the usual broken bones—a mistake or indecision of what to do, and she would've died.
'Incredible, like always.'
Fortunately, the technique was as basic as effective. One needed to use rotating forces toward the incoming attack for dispersion. Depending on the attack, it could be tricky like now, with her needing to deploy multiple layers while using physical force to create the best effect possible to defend, as otherwise she would've died.
'A little more.'
Fortunately, she was now inside a massive dust cloud that settled slowly, and she could compose herself before everyone saw how she looked, smiling like a bloodthirsty beast.
'At least it's... huh?!'
Lorient ducked, her instinct screaming at her, only to see how a giant axe sliced over her head, splitting the dust cloud in two.
"Haha! What a resilient little girl! You think you got me?! Try again!"
Glancing down while sprinting away to regain control over the battlefield, she saw that where Habog was before, there was nothing anymore.
"Guhaha! So we are really fighting seriously?! Exciting!"
As she dashed, her instinct warned her, seeing how the blade of Habog's axe made out of melted bones slowly appeared before her, rapidly moving, about to separate her head.
'A distraction, huh.'
Lorient could clearly sense that Habog was behind her, but the axe was flying toward her, rotating rapidly. He probably threw it, with it flying around her, as a surprise attack while he simultaneously prepared something behind her.
She smiled, having a wild idea, 'Hehe, why not!'
With a sidestep and the right timing, she looked like a gracile dancer when she dodged the relatively simple attack. However, instead of dodging completely, she grabbed the handle, using her energy to disperse his and conjuring multiple constructs, propelling it to another level.
"Still a child—" From Habogs direction, another massive energy-dense attack was about to come her way, "—never fall for distractions!"
However, when she grabbed it, she waited for him to appear, using the targeting spell on him. What followed was immediate pain as her mana veins contracted, making her clench her teeth.
'Now!'
When she felt the same attack, but only with a third of the same potency, she pushed her energy into the axe, still rotating with her holding it, making it ever so fast.
'Please work!'
When before it was just a whirlwind, now it was like a roundish red spiral of death, which she let go, with it flying at incredible speed toward the energy wave.
Boom!
Another explosion occurred when both attacks met, creating another enormous dust cloud and destruction. Nevertheless, Habog was pretty good at orienting himself in those conditions, walking where the confrontation happened.
However, he was confused when he saw the aftermath of it, "My axe—" he tilted his head slightly, actually expecting a heavily injured wolf-kin girl but only seeing his trusted weapon, "—It's destroyed?"
Habog was already tired and critically injured. After the last attack, he had barely any energy left and hoped it was over, but knowing how she attacked before, he stayed vigilant, not wanting to fall for another surprise attack.
He smiled, intending to provoke her, knowing that she was easily angered, "Come out, you weak—" Before he could end the sentence, something grabbed his ankle, "—gotcha!"
Before he could move, something crawled over his body, which became hotter, only to feel how her energy enveloped him. However, he immediately used his own, or what he had left, to defend against it.
"Guahaha! Burn baby burn!"
After her chant, Lorient activated her ignition spell, turning Habog into a giant torch. However, as she used the last drop of her mana, she also used whatever energy was left, as she barely absorbed any, not wanting to give away her position when aiming for surprise attacks.
"Argh! You little bitch!"
The combination of the weakest spell and her energy was perfect. The spell was so rough and easily conjured that she could just radiate her energy over it, making it flow easily through and increase the heat of the spell to a massive degree.
'Come one!'
Habog couldn't run away anymore, as his energy, which he used to shield himself, became increasingly thinner. Lorient wasn't better since she had no mana anymore, sensing a thunderclap headache coming while her energy slowly ran dry, making her muscles slowly contract in painful ways.
'Give up! Say it!'
Only a slight film of energy was left. The flame started to devour the skin, corroding and burning, slowly destroying layer by layer, with even bones and tendons emerging as no flesh was left anymore. Like tiny and always hungry insects, all her energy had in mind was to consume.
"I give up!"
Lorient immediately stopped, sensing how little energy he had and what was left was around the parts of the vital organs. She slowly climbed out of the ground, having the idea from one of the stories of his Father when he turned into a mole, digging himself into the ground against some elf priest.
However, she used her energy to dig a hole and shuffled dirt over herself. She assumed that he wouldn't sense her because of the explosion and their energies being scattered everywhere. If he did, she would've lost.
"Urgh... Fuck! Keugh!"
When she tried to straighten up, she immediately puked while the headache almost overwhelmed her. The only silver lining was that she could resist it, thanks to all the training she did.
'I feel like shit.'
This fight took a lot, and she looked at Habog lying on the ground, barely breathing. He looked like her, smiling. They both were happy, 'I think Aurum is right. We are a bunch of masochists.'
"Are you fine, sugar?"
"What the fuck was that?!"
"I understand why someone needs a great fortitude to control this power. Everyone else would go insane."
"Habog, you bastard, if you did something inexcusable, I will take your head and bring it personally to the Lord and Lady!"
She straightened up, seeing how the dust cloud they fought in slowly dispersed, and listened to how Alexander's retainers entered the battlefield.
'Okay, look noble... urgh!'
Lorient's whole body was destroyed and exhausted. She would need Ipe's healing for a week to be okay again, but for now, she needed to appear like a leader. She won, and with that, she became the new leader of the camp.
'A speech.'
When the dust settled, she saw everyone looking confused at her. She had one foot on Habog, who was barely breathing and needed to be healed quickly. However, she knew he was fine and could survive the next few hours without intervention. For now, she needed to make her first impression count.
Everyone came close, including all the refugees, wide-eyed and confused, looking between the two, only for Lorient to open her mouth and try her best to imitate her brothers.
"I am your new Mistress! A leader you can trust and believe in! I am Lorient M. Leonandra, and you will follow me at this point! All I say will become your will; I will bring you out of this Outer Circle and into the Core! Just believe in me!"
Everyone was confused, not knowing what to do. Lorient saw this, thinking she probably did not reach them, 'Never mind. I will lead them to freedom from this shithole either way.'
Her conscience wouldn't allow her to let them stay here, now that she even took the challenge to become the new chief. She walked toward the main tent where they had the party with all her potions and talismans still there. At first, she thought she would need to push herself through the crowd, but they parted, with them immediately bowing down, showing genuine respect.
With every step, more and more bowed down to her, making her straightened up and showing her noble attitude. She loved it. She wanted to be revered and adored. It was a somewhat new feeling she wouldn't want to lose.
'I... like it.'
When she was before the tent, she turned around and saw everyone still bowing—some with a smile, others with hope, and a few in fear. She felt a multitude of emotions, but the most important one was submission. She was their leader.
'No, I love it.'
That day, something awoke in her, previously buried in her past. She heard how she got a skill and knew what she wanted for the future.
...
Second Author's Note: Please comment on the fight! I seem to have problems writing exciting fighting scenes. If you see anything negative, just write it. I want to get better, and such mini-arcs are perfect for practicing!
Comments
Wyatt Hilbert
Thanks for the chapter, the fight was well written.
