《The Harvester》381. Inner Echo
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The evening was approaching and the finals for the Arena Games had been set, with Kim-Shin Woo being qualified to participate in them. However, they would happen the next day, while this one would be concluded with Rakna’s showcase.
On another note, Lanata hung out with everyone after accepting to join Obsidian Throne and they all had warmed up to the sheep girl. Ignoring her reputation, all of them quickly realized that her attitude toward them was truly genuine. There was no disguise to speak of; merely a shy and very clumsy girl eager to make friends.
As for her darker infamy…
‘It’s that thing, isn’t it?’ Rakna mused to himself, his eyes glued onto Lana’s sword. ‘I knew it was a weird weapon the second I saw it for the first time… not its size or appearance.’ It was as if the sword was a concept given form… existing on the line between physical and spiritual.
“{It was born from her, wasn’t it? Or rather…}” Fray muttered.
The therian nodded. ‘Blade of Heavenly Zenith…’ He smiled faintly. This name was the first thing he saw on her status; classified as her sole Nirvana Skill. Jarringly, she had no other skills. Whether it be active or passive; nothing showed up. The categories didn’t even appear anywhere and that also applied to her proficiencies.
There was no doubt in Rakna’s mind that this was not a failure on his part. Crystal Sight was not failing him in the slightest… but the System itself was. That’s why, when he tried to push past the boundaries of her status, he had nearly been overwhelmed by a deep sense of danger, as if he was about to be cut apart, and was quickly forced to retreat.
‘I don’t know what that Nirvana is about but frankly…’ He smiled wryly. ‘It’s terrifying.’
“{Hah, who would have thought this cute little lady would be so fearsome?}” Fray chuckled.
“Your Majesty?” A voice cut into Rakna’s ruminations and he looked over at Michael respectfully standing behind his seat. “It is time.”
“Mhm, alright,” the therian cracked his neck and stood up. “Enjoy the show, I suppose,” he uttered and then narrowed his eyes at Zialtra. “And there better not be anyone bothering Lana while I’m not here. Especially you.”
“Heh, whatever, kid,” the Hunting Queen grinned. “Just go out there and show us what you can do.”
“I-I’ll be okay too, don’t worry…” Lanata added with a blush.
“Is your showcase even gonna involve fighting though?” Allan abruptly asked a very valid question and Rakna blinked, before eyeing Michael.
The noble nodded. “Yes, Sir. In a way, it will be a very straightforward battle.”
“In a way, huh?” The therian snorted and Michael smiled before heading toward the exit.
“Go kick some ass, devourer!” Higure sent Rakna off with these eloquent words.
* * *
As Rakna and Michael walked down an empty corridor, the former spoke up, “Can you quickly tell me what the Game will be? I’d actually like to know how much power I should reveal.”
The aristocrat smiled somewhat wryly. “Well… it’s not always the case, but the ‘trial’ planned for your exhibition round should normally require you to go all out. In fact, I would say that everybody who experiences this particular test inevitably loses.”
The therian raised an eyebrow. “That’s bold of you. Are you saying to me that this showcase is one set up for me to lose from the start?”
Michael chuckled nervously. “No, Your Majesty. It is simply highly likely that you do… Rather, even if you lose this battle, your reputation will not be tarnished in the slightest.”
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“All right, you got my curiosity. What is it?” Rakna asked as they arrived at a locked gate.
“This challenge is often called ‘Inner Echo’. The principle is simple. As you enter the stage, a small assessment will be conducted by the System, and then… the being that you consider the strongest to have ever met in your life will be summoned as your adversary.”
“…”
Getting no response, Michael began typing on a small console near the gate to set up a connection to the correct spatial layer and continued, “As for the limit, we aren’t quite sure. The strongest we have seen in the past was a foe near the 800s level-wise. There is a great amount of ambient mana in Atlantis so technically, the System would have no problem fueling a creation of great power.”
“To this day, every instance of this challenge has been spectacular. I am sure yours will not be any different, if not grander,” the nobleman said. “Who do you deem shall appear? Lord Obsidian?” He asked after setting up the spatial bridge but when he turned around, he still didn’t get a response and instead froze on the spot when he saw the grin that split Rakna’s face.
Michael nearly shivered at the rare sight but it was gone in the blink of an eye. The therian blankly stared forward and let out a sound akin to a suppressed laugh. “Pronos, get out of there,” he spoke up and a head peeked out of Sonata.
The little guy looked at his master questioningly.
“I know you’re eager to test our Resonance, but I’ll do this one alone,” Rakna said and with a quiet hiss, Pronos nodded and jumped out. He climbed over Michael’s shoulder instead, totally ignoring the poor man’s alarm at seeing a Hydra.
“You can go back now,” the therian uttered and slowly pulled on his scarf. The Eion fabric of black and purple smoldered at his touch and gradually turned into a Guandao. Due to the completion of the Obsidian Star, it had taken a new form.
The black blade was segmented into two parts, each enhanced with purple streaks and edges, and had overall grown in size compared to before. The shaft was also a bit longer and wrapped in black bandages that faded to a pale azure at the base of the blade and flailed in the air freely as just one single ribbon.
“Go back and tell them,” Rakna spoke with an unseen smile in his tone and impatiently whirled his polearm. “Some senile old man is about to crash the party…” He uttered and braked Sonata’s spin. “And you better be prepared for his eccentricities.”
* * *
“| It is time, everyone! It’s the moment you have all been waiting for! Today, our Exhibition Game to inaugurate the finals will star our Dual Legendary Emperor, Rakna Xiorra! |”
“Hah, finally,” Vera smirked from inside one of the private cabins of the Arena. She had separated from Rakna’s group and went to join the rest of her Guild along with Karin.
All around her in this velvety room, members of the Wiccan Guild watched through a pane of glass as all the spatial layers dimmed until only one remained.
“The guy who brought in Vivi, Lyn, Ixy, and Rie, huh?” One girl with short blonde hair and red eyes curiously spoke up with a finger on her lips. She was Polia Vaster, the Witch of Colors.
“You should really stop doing that… didn’t Nyx tell you she hated your nicknames?” Another young woman with white and blue hair rolled her eyes; Bianka Barselianna, Witch of Winter.
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“Oh, come on, you know Nixy is just being shy!”
“…don’t change it in the middle of a conversation either.”
As the two witches chatted, a woman that sat at the very forefront of everyone tapped her cheek with her finger as she leaned on her hand, her elbow propped up by the armrest of her sofa.
She had long black hair tied into a braid going down her back and tantalizing pink eyes with pupils in the shape of a lozenge. Her facial features were undoubtedly pretty and had a tear-drop-shaped mark under her right eye.
She wore a stylized outfit faintly reminiscent of a wedding gown but mainly black in color, with white underlayers, and light pink finishes around the neck, sleeves, and waist.
She made a soft smile as she saw the gate inside the stage starting to open. Enya Fendyrlen, Guild Leader of the Wiccan Guild, whispered calmly, “Let’s see what secrets you hold…”
* * *
In the private chamber of the Silver Sacrament, the Spell Blade Guild, Shin-Woo entered and was greeted by his guildmates. He went to sit at the front as he was congratulated for his performance and was ultimately addressed by one man.
“You handled the Prowler well, albeit far too improvisational to my liking,” a kind but sharp voice sounded from a handsome man sitting next to the reincarnator; Guild Leader, and titled Sacrament Knight, Haschwalt Sakritt.
He looked no older than thirty and would pass off as younger due to his pale and almost feminine skin. He had brown hair tied into a ponytail hanging over his shoulder, and amber eyes covered by a pair of square frameless glasses.
He also sported formal attire, combining a black and golden suit with an ornamented and clearly symbolic white cape. There was a silver cross embroidered on his shoulder that mirrored a pair of metallic bracelets around his wrists from which hung two crosses of the same design.
“Thank you, Sir,” Shin-Woo replied to the man’s praise with a smile.
“You’ve met the new Emperor, yes?” Haschwalt followed up without delay and the Half-Fae could only smile at the cut-cold switch of topics his Leader tended to do.
“I have. Is there something you would like to know about him?”
“I don’t suppose you have knowledge of his abilities?”
“Well… I can’t say I do,” he conceded. “I have met him only twice; in one instance, he was passive in his actions, and in the other, he was incapacitated. Though, during our first encounter, I heard the Blossom Wind, Caer Llawen, refer to him as a Firmament Monarch.”
It seemed Haschwalt had familiarity with the term as his eyebrow curled up. “Is that so…? If that is the case, combined with everything else, he is the kind of genius that only appears once in entire eras’ worth of time...”
* * *
“So, Boss, that’s supposed to be the chick we let in Zero last time?” A silver-haired man with several scars on his face and a mechanical mask covering his mouth asked out loud. He had light blue eyes and wore light-type armor that seemed half-machine in nature.
He was one of the top mercenaries of Friedhof, Lionel Frakt. Codename: Locke.
“Yep. Disheartening, isn’t it?” Undertaker chuckled as he shuffled his Tarot cards. “Man… ‘she’ was a knockout too, for sure… Now, I’m just sad,” the middle-aged mercenary almost pouted.
“Oi, Treiber, why are you talking as if there aren’t any pretty girls here, hm?” A woman behind him raised her voice menacingly as she clutched his skull in an iron grip. She had spiky green hair that despite its wildness was still long enough to reach her shoulders. Her eyes glowed a menacing red with slit pupils and she wore a gold and red outfit that exposed her abdomen.
She went by only one name, Gretta. Codename: Drachen.
Undertaker sweatdropped nervously. “I-I mean… I didn’t really mean that. At least, you can agree with me when I say his ‘reverse' appearance was nice to look at, no?”
She huffed and let him go, to which he sighed in relief. “Hmph, I guess I do.”
“…why would a dragon like you even care about its human form?” Lionel mumbled to himself.
“You said something, Locke?” Gretta glowered at him.
“…nope.” He bravely looked away.
* * *
Everywhere in the Arena and outside, similar interactions occurred. Whether it be regular families watching their TV at dinner time, or leaders of major organizations, they all paid attention.
This included a certain fearsome creature and his Empress, as well as an elusive group of spiritual beings, monitoring the Arena vigilantly… ready to intervene shall it threaten the System.
How would such a thing happen, you would ask?
Rakna Xiorra wasn’t strong enough yet to pose danger to them… but it was another story for Him.
* * *
“‘Some senile old man is about to crash the party’?” Kaelith reiterated confusedly as she watched Pronos once again lay claim to Flavia’s cleavage like a bird to its nest. The Chaos Witch didn’t even try to dissuade him, even encouraging it somewhat.
“Yes,” Michael confirmed.
“Uh…” Allan furrowed his eyebrows. “But the only person he calls that is…”
The blond was about to say something when the Arena’s announcer interrupted him, “| The stage is ready and the gate has opened, folks! Let’s welcome, Rakna Xiorra! |”
Everyone immediately focused on the glass wall offering a view of the stage grounds. The one that was to be used for this showcase was quite peculiar. It was a vast canyon terrain with two specific cliff tops highlighted by the viewing angle.
They were separated by a deep ravine and situated hundreds of meters in the air. On one side, a figure walked out of nowhere as if it had come out of an invisible doorway. Their clothes and hair visibly swayed due to the strong winds.
Rakna quietly stepped forward, Allegro altering itself on his body as the futuristic armor it always had been meant to be. He dragged his Guandao on the ground, the blade cutting into the stone of the canyon like butter and leaving a trail behind until he stopped at the very edge of the cliff.
“That’s… strange,” Flavia spoke up worriedly.
“What is?” Azheim asked.
“Rak looks a bit too serious,” Allan answered him, straightening in his seat at the same time. “It’s never a good thing when that happens… Well, that, or he’s super excited about something.”
As they said that, a small tornado formed on the cliff across Rakna. Streams of mana visible to the naked eye flowed into it from all directions and magic formations popped into existence for a split second before being swallowed by the tornado, mounting a storm in the already gray sky.
“| The System has appraised our challenger! |” The announcer stated. “| I’m honored to announce to you the ninth coming of the ‘Inner Echo’ Trial in the Arena’s history! |”
Kaelith twitched anxiously and finally understood what was going on. Kara wasn’t far behind and that extended to Ceresta and Hans. “Oh no…” The vixen whispered and was overheard by most.
“What’s wrong?” Nyx asked with a frown. “What is this ‘Inner Echo’?”
“An introspective trial,” Azheim explained, eyeing the reaction of the two vixens. “Long story short, it extracts the strongest person you’ve ever met from your mind and summons it… And now I see that you also don’t seem very thrilled about it,” he added when Nyx began to pale.
“No, no, no…” The goddess clenched her fists and turned toward Michael. “You have to stop this exhibit! Now! You can’t let Him be summoned!”
The nobleman blinked in shock and stepped back. “I-I’m sorry, but it cannot be stopped. The body has already begun to form. Soon, the System will awaken it. Be assured that even if the recreation happens to be a deadly enemy, it shall be incapable of fatally harming His Majesty. It is bound by rules and--”
“That’s not the issue! That man cannot be contained! If you try to create a vessel through someone like Rakna of all people, he will--!”
Nyx was violently shut down by a surge of dread. It hit everyone in the VIP room like a truck and nearly knocked them out. Just from its existence alone, it felt as if the air had become heavier and colors had been drained of life.
But this was not power in the truest of senses. It was neither aura nor coercion. It was closer to killing intent, but not quite there either.
It was a threat. Not a sense of danger.
An overwhelming threat that does not care about anything it menaces. Humans, Gods, Monsters, or Devils; a warning of death to all creatures, no matter their strength or superiority.
It loomed over you like the Reaper itself, placing a bony hand on your shoulder, aligning the curved blade of its scythe along your neck, and pressing until blood came out. You would feel a desperate instinct and need to turn around. But if you were to act upon it... your throat would be slit.
“Slaughter Intent…” Nyx cursed under her breath and stared at the stage; the tornado dying down in front of Rakna, who remained impassive even while enduring this terrifying presence that was powerful enough to pierce through space itself to reach the spectators.
“What… the hell… is this?” Zialtra had her eyes wide open, reflexively rubbing her throat to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. There was not an ounce of fighting spirit in her at the moment.
Hans, at her side, was unaffected. He merely repressed a pulse coming from deep within; his true form responding to the call of death. On the other hand, the reaction of Flavia, among Rakna’s close companions, caught his attention.
Unlike the rest who displayed varying amounts of nervousness and fear, she was uncannily blank and cold. For a moment, even he was frightened by the emptiness in her eyes until she abruptly snapped out of it and squinted in apprehension.
‘I see… her true Aspect of Chaos…’ Hans realized.
Meanwhile, a few more people had tense reactions. Merlina’s emotionless mien cracked, her eyes drifting to her arm, itching to draw her sword and cut this inexistent foe apart.
“This feeling… it’s on a completely other level compared to that other specter,” Higure grunted.
Kaelith clutched her own arm to stop it from trembling and Kara had a shaky smile in place. “What a scary uncle, huh? Kae?” She jested to her daughter who replied with a huff.
“‘Senile old man’, my ass…”
Then, there was Lanata, who merely blinked in surprise at first before exclaiming cutely, “Ah! No, don’t come out! Bad!” She chastised her sword with a hushed voice as it began to vibrate. She was acting as if the presence filling the air was a normal thing.
* * *
Vera Bael hugged herself, her eyes dilated in fear as shivers coursed throughout her body.
Enya Fendyrlen gripped her armrest tightly with sweat dripping down her face.
Kim Shin-Woo tried his best to shield his mind from harm.
Haschwalt Sakritt clasped his fingers tightly.
Treiber ‘Undertaker’ Sterben sat stunned as the tarot cards he had just laid out turned to ashes.
And Gretta ‘Drachen’ stepped back in a daze, her mouth wide open. “D-dra… drago--!”
The storm scattered.
* * *
Rakna calmly watched as the dust settled down and a pair of silver eyes peered through it with a macabre glow. “Would you look at that?” An elderly voice chuckled gruffly. “Well then, kid… ready to kill me?”
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