39

The Blademaster II

Altrexis came to a halt upon the stairs, placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, and drew. His curved blade met the incoming beam and cleaved it in half. Twin walls of plasma lashed out on either side of him, scorching the stairs and sending up clouds of dust.

Rian stared in disbelief at Altrexis, who was merely sheathing his katana again.

What the hell is that sword made of?

Your Temporal Runeknight Gauntlet is 50% destroyed!

Smoke rose from the gauntlet, sparks flying from between the armor platings. Glowing faintly red, it was almost unbearably warm on Rian’s left hand.

All right. Plan B it is.

Ducking low, Rian dashed up the stairs. If he couldn’t hold off Altrexis, then he would at least create as much distance between him and Decha as possible.

He only made it a quarter of the way up when Altrexis resumed sprinting toward him and swung his katana. Rian canceled the dash and dodged only to wind up right in front of the sword again, the black-clad Loyalist placing his steps to lead into one follow-up after another in the span of a breath.

Holy shit, he’s fast. Backing away, Rian glanced over. Higher up the stairs, Kat was merely watching them.

What the hell’s she doing? Are you seriously gonna let me 1v1 this guy?

It seemed like a perfect opportunity to gang up, but she was holding off for some reason.

Rian nearly tripped on the steps as he quickly brought his attention back to the fight. The footwork required here was a nightmare. It really shouldn’t have surprised him to find that stairs were a boss fight all on their own, but it felt like every movement he made was going to end in a misstep and send him tumbling.

He desperately needed to get onto even ground, but Altrexis kept attacking. Rian had no time to look around to even see if there was anywhere to go aside from down. The edges of the stairs were clear, but they were almost certainly blocked off by invisible walls.

He headed toward them anyway, taking advantage of the even footing while moving along the stairs’ width. But as he approached, confirming his fears, the air was shimmering in a way that suggested there was no passing through, like the edge of a PVP instance.

Altrexis had closed in. Rian dodged the incoming blade, slipped off a step, and immediately corrected his stance. With enough DEX, he was fast enough to catch himself from falling, but the fraction of a second it took to correct his footing meant less attention on the katana. It swept close again, and Rian leaped away, going airborne as he hurtled over and down the steps.

Staggering as he slid over multiple steps before halting, he landed so hard he thought he’d break something. More concerning—he realized as he looked toward the bottom of the stairs—was the positioning of everyone in the fight.

If he kept going down, he was only going to bring Altrexis closer to Decha. He needed to go up.

Charging toward him again, Altrexis was almost so fast that he was a blur, the edge of his blade shining through the air and leaving a trail of fading silver like an afterimage.

His lips parted, and his voice resounded in Rian’s head as if he was speaking calmly in his ears.

“You, they who desecrate the remnants of our creators, shall become desecrated.”

Rian dashed out of the way and began to lure him up the stairs. It was better than fighting from below, at least. If there was one rule about fighting someone with a sword that Rian knew, it was that you never gave them the high ground.

Amid the sound of the war drums that had spontaneously started playing, the voice continued in Rian’s head.

“You, who has journeyed in search of power, shall become without will. Without choice.” There was still nothing but calm on Altrexis’s face, not a trace of exertion in his voice or his movement. “Tell me, Desecrator. Am I a hypocrite? Am I a fool to challenge you? Is it not power that I sought, also, to abolish yours?”

God, even his dialogue is edgy.

From this angle, retreating up the steps, Rian could see Decha at the bottom of the stairs.

“Decha!” Rian shouted. “What are you doing? Help!”

He was standing with his staff held forward, his eyes closed and his mouth moving as if he were chanting something. Surprisingly he answered, shouting, “I’m going to equalize his level with yours. If I can do that, you should be able to beat him. But if I can’t—”

Anything else he said was lost to the wind as Altrexis swung his blade within an inch of Rian’s ear.

“May Ulm forgive me for my transgression,” Altrexis said. “May the embodiment of Yindra’s spirit lash my flesh with each of your retaliations. I am not worthy to hold this weapon. I am not worthy to strike the breath from they who have desecrated your body.”

Corvis floated nearby, a subtle frown on his face. “I understand that you may not forgive me for this, Rian,” he said, weaving his way around the katana. “You were indeed being followed that night in the woods. But in truth…my warning would make no difference. No amount of preparation is sufficient for what you are facing. I knew this time would come—the moment when one of the Loyalists sought to end your journey, and that there is nothing I can do to prevent it. If I were to intervene—”

I guess it’s time to see some old friends after all, Corvis had said, just before they’d entered the Rift.

Rian almost wanted to punch him. He hadn’t meant Decha, as he’d thought. He’d meant Altrexis. Because he’d known who was following Rian, that night. He’d known this was going to happen.

“The Aeyai knows of your situation, Rian,” Corvis said. “It knows that you are amassing power at a rate exceeding that of most off-worlders. It was only a matter of time before one of the Loyalists sought you out. Altrexis has been following you for nearly a day, now. He would’ve struck you down that night in the woods when you first sensed his presence, but it seems he knew of your intentions—to enter the Rift.”

“This fragment I hold in my hands is them,” Altrexis continued, backing away for a moment and bringing up his katana again into a defensive stance. Rian dashed in, seeking an opening, but Altrexis cut off any approach while he continued to monologue. “For that is what they have become—absence, nullity, the lack of that which is. Do you understand, Desecrator? It is pacifism they sought, pacifism they embodied and became. And it is that which I wield, burdened to keep at my side as an eternal reminder of what your kind have done.”

As Altrexis shifted into offense again, Rian still couldn’t find an opening on him. He just kept swinging that blade, over and over, as if it were weightless. The stamina boosts from Kat and Decha’s companionship levels were helping, but Rian could only dodge for so long.

“This irony is not lost upon me, Desecrator. Your death shall come about by a weapon forged from pacifism made manifest. It is their will. It is their intent, given physicality. And it will be your undoing, the completion of the loop that returns to the origin.”

“Kat,” Rian shouted, dodging another slash. “What the hell’s this guy’s problem?”

She didn’t answer. When he managed to glance over at her, she was merely watching, wide-eyed.

Dammit, is everyone just gonna let me die here?

Kat’s training, at the very least, was paying off. Rian was keeping up with Altrexis’s speed, reading his movements, his patterns of attack, to a degree that he almost felt safe enough to keep this up for another minute or so, the stamina drain being minimal so long as he didn’t block anything. What worried him was whether to go for a parry or not—if he could even survive doing so if he botched it, given how much damage Altrexis had done to Visha.

“The Loyalists seek to disrupt the accumulation of power,” Corvis said, floating alongside. “That is the very reason they exist. In the great game, they are the antithesis of a player. They roam the Overworld to hunt down unsuspecting off-worlders, depriving them of what little experience they can. When one invades a Rift session to kill a player, they’re capable of negating the accumulation of experience.”

“Wait, this guy’s a world boss?” Rian shouted, dodging another swing of the blade cleaving the air so fast that he could feel the pressure difference, the vacuum in the air collapsing behind its path. It cut so close to his face that the sunglasses he was wearing cracked. A second later, the frame split in half, the pieces clinking to the ground.

Your Aviator Shades have broken!

“That weapon he holds,” Corvis said. “It is a special form of nullshard, folded and pounded into the shape of a blade by other refined nullshards. It will sheer itself through any form of defense—except that of the spirit. A death in such a manner will almost certainly strip you of more than one life. How many, I cannot say.”

“Well, that’s just great!” Rian shouted.

“Rian. I’m sorry.”

His MP bar dipping, Rian cast Earthen Harmonics in time to avoid a sword thrust that immediately transitioned into a swipe that nicked his shoulder. It hadn’t damaged him from what he could see in his System feed, but it had caught the sleeve of his linen jacket, severing it at the arm. Half his sleeve flew off into the breeze.

It was, of course, his left sleeve. He could practically feel the Mark of Yindra burning on his skin, though it wasn’t exposed just yet.

And he could already imagine it, Corvis switching sides the moment the Mark became visible.

Gritting his teeth, Rian wanted to scream. Oh come on! I don’t need to fight two of you assholes at once!

“This is your test,” Corvis said. “If you cannot overcome this, then there was truly no hope to begin with.”

Rian knew it, felt he had known this would happen in some way: Corvis, setting him up, tricking him into fighting someone or something way beyond his level.

Altrexis was getting faster, and more aggressive as the seconds passed. He was studying Rian’s behaviors, his evasive patterns, and cutting closer each time.

“Must I count the years to this day?” Altrexis said. “Must I recount the trials I faced to arrive here, to face you? Were you the summit, or the mountain itself? Were you the wind that pushed against me or the sour taste of battle upon my blade?”

“Dude,” Rian said, breathing harder as his stamina dropped with each evasion. “Shut up!”

Casting Vital Strike, Rian slammed his gauntleted fist into Altrexis’s face. He’d simply gone for it—without waiting for the opening, without judging the attack pattern or second-guessing the risk of his decision.

You have dealt 73 damage! (Altrexis’s HP: 2055/2128)

Charge Punch meter: +5% (0%→5%)

Vital Strike has slowed Altrexis by 2.3%! (Time remaining: 5 seconds)

Altrexis turned his head as if Rian had merely slapped him.

Rian hadn’t even waited for the glowing markers to appear for Vital Strike—but it seemed a hit to the face had worked anyway. He would’ve gone for more hits, but there wasn’t enough time.

Rian retreated, and Altrexis resumed his attack, relentless, chasing.

“Can you hear it, Desecrator? The despair in my heart. The knowledge that my quest is meaningless. That I must end your reckless ascension, and yet offer up myself to your quest by doing so. That my challenging of you here fulfills the very task that must be prevented.”

The blade quivered as it passed through the air. It was almost musical, the way it rose and descended with each swing, each flick of the wrist. Rian slid back, dashed aside, and jumped up the endless flight of stairs as Altrexis followed, bringing them closer to Kat.

“And that even if I succeed,” he continued, “another will come to replace you. And that if I fail, my death will only make you stronger. Do you hear it, Desecrator? The cry of my soul. The song of futility. There is no victory in my fate. Only delay. Only time. Only—ever—time.”

Steadily, Rian was catching on to his patterns. Altrexis kept going for horizontal slices to maximize the area his blade was covering to prevent an easy dodge.

“And yet your struggle, our struggle, continues. In this endless cycle of death and rebirth, there is no choice but to fight. Always.”

After every line, he was always going for the same kind of attack—a broad, sweeping slash.

No choice—this is it!

Anticipating the attack, Rian stepped in and went for the parry.