B6 Chapter 633: City of Blooms, pt. 2
Kaius trudged through the knee-high grass that surrounded Baanswell, skirting around a field of hardy greens. Winter might have come, but the Dukedoms had a mild climate, and Skills were more than enough to keep crops growing like wildfire through the cold.
He and his team were heading for a distant gate in the Wyrdwall just west of the southern edge of the city. To his surprise, it was busy. A line snaked away from the wall, and they were far from alone on the open plains. Farmers roamed, tending to their crops — though he rarely saw them alone, and everyone was armed.
Hells, right this very second, he could spot four different groups marching their way towards the shadowed forest. One looked like a hunting troupe, judging by their leathers, spears, and tags that appeared with analysis. The other two though? Only a few of them had combat designations, most were just artisans and labourers, clutching their spears as they stared at the trees with determination.
After the chaos that had followed the first phase change, he’d expected most would be holed up, waiting to see how things turned out. It seemed he hadn’t given the people of Baanswell enough credit.
The closest group slowed as they approached, waving. Kaius waved back, feeling a little awkward. Soon, the group vanished into the trees, moving far too confidently for it to have been their first foray. An eyeblink later, Kaius realised their auras shone with a blazing Iron hue. That was impressive for a non-combat class. How long had they been going out to hunt beasts? More importantly, how many had taken up arms? He didn’t remember making note of anything like this when they’d first come to the city. Perhaps the southern forests were a safer hunting ground.
“Hey, check it out,” Kenva said, nodding behind them. “There they are.”
Kaius turned in time to see a group of riders galloping out of the south-eastern gate, a sea of banners risen high above them. He recognised the Flowers heraldry. The duke certainly didn’t waste time.
“It’s probably best we get into the city before a dead dragon makes things complicated,” Ianmus said, shading his eyes with a hand as he watched the riders.
They picked up the pace, worming their way ever closer to the Wyrdwall. As they passed farms and travelers alike, a growing number of people tracked their passage. Kaius ignored it — people staring at passing Silvers was nothing new.
“You know, while Julian and the others proved to be less insufferable than they seemed, it’s nice to be travelling alone again. Even if it's just until we get into the city.”
“True enough,” Ianmus replied. “But it would be much nicer watching the fields roll by from the top of the Pegleg.”
“Gods, don’t remind me. I miss that couch.”
At least the landyacht was repeating itself. They’d checked its progress a few days ago, and the massive hole in the hull had mostly sealed shut. The legs, however, were still a ruin, rendering it useless as anything other than a very strange looking tent. That was enough for Kaius. A portable kitchen and place to sleep was far more than most people had on the road.
A few minutes later, mana-soaked grain overgrew the fields around them. It towered almost as tall as Ianmus, cutting off their view from the farmers and travelers scattered near the city walls.
Kenva nudged him in the shoulder. “If you want to test out your sword now that we’re alone, I suggest doing it before we get too much closer to the city.”
That was a very good point. He drew his blade in a flash, unable to stop a smile from sliding across his face. His friends looked on with interest as he spun it in a flourish, enjoying its weight in his hand.
Light glinted off the crystal blade, and he could feel the potency that boiled within it. He had, of course, tested out the raw improvements now that it had grown to the second tier — though not its new Slayer’s Ire enchantment that promised to utilise his Authority in some way.
Power boiled within it, reforged by its transformation. It had been enhanced on every level. He swung, and the blade blurred, its edge almost dissolving into the surrounding air. As soon as they were out of Vainblood, he’d taken it to an oak. A single, good swing had been enough to hew through a branch a handspan thick with ease, and a little testing with Ianmus had shown it tore into magic like a starved wolf. Testing its increased durability had been harder. It had taken a VOS empowered Nail to take a chunk out of its impossibly fine edge. Even then the cracks had ignited with crimson fire, sealing shut before his eyes.
But the change he was most excited for still waited. Kaius could feel it through his bond with the weapon, a conduit for his Authority. The sensation was hard to put into words, but it was almost a channel within the blade that his Authority soaked through readily, like water flowing downhill.
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Kaius flexed his Will, a crushing weight billowing out from his soul. Rather than push it out to assert his claim over the world, he shoved it towards his blade.
A Father’s Gift snapped into impossible clarity. It was like he’d only ever seen it through dirty glass, its form smudged and warped. Now, it shone with palpable bloodlust, waiting for his direction. He needed a target.
Kaius looked away from his sword, raising a brow a Porkchop. “Want to test it out?”
Porkchop snorted in amusement. “Sure.”
A single nudge was all it took. Authority burst from A Father’s Gift, coating its edge before striking outwards like a viper. His brother stilled, his own soul roaring into ignition. Kaius felt the clash immediately, but even crushed tight, his brother’s Authority was far less dense than the slicing blade Kaius’s had been forged into. The Slayer’s Ire cleaved straight through like Porkchop’s instinctive defense was made of naught but paper.
Porkchop tensed, and Kaius felt a horrible echo from their bond — a looming danger and death, come for blood and ruin. Worse, through the Ire he could feel his weapon become an instrument of his Will. The wounds it left, he thought, would not be so easy to heal.
Kaius released the Ire, gasping in shock. A rattle swept through his soul, bringing with it an ache — like he had overworked a muscle.
“Well, that was scary,” Porkchop said evenly. “Seems useful, especially if it grows more potent as you progress your Path.”
“What’s it do?” Ianmus asked, eying the weapon excitedly.
Kaius did his best to explain the way it had shaped his Authority — and the lingering ache it had left in his wake.
“It definitely felt dangerous on my end. It wasn’t a fear effect or anything, but I felt damn certain you were a deadly threat. Made throwing my Will around more difficult, too — I suspect it will be quite handy against mages.”
“And Essence users, I'd bet,” Kenva said thoughtfully. “Definitetly a boon since we’re going to be entering a place full of them soon enough.”
Kaius grinned, sliding his blade back into its scabbard. That was a great point. The Tyrant they had faced in Deadacre had been so lethal precisely because they had weaponised their Authority and essence in ways he barely understood. If they were going to face more creatures like that, a tool to counteract its effects was a grand boon indeed.
Silence fell over them as they thought of their coming trial.
“Do you think they’ll announce themselves?” Ianmus eventually asked. “Whoever broke the rarity cap, I mean.”
“We certainly didn’t,” Kaius responded.
Then again, they had been as weak as could be. Announcing their part in what could have well been the worst disaster the world had faced in millenia would have been down right suicidal. Even now, they kept quite about it. Who knew if some raging fourth tier would hunt them down because their youngest grandchild had died in a Tyrant attack.
“They might,” Kenva said. “It doesn’t seem likely that they would be young. Breaking the cap is an insane challenge — they’d have to have been preparing for years. I’d say they just rose to the third tier, or maybe even the fourth.”
“Agreed,” Ianmus said. “You and Porkchop had almost every conceivable advantage before rising to Silver. Full legacies, Honours by the dozen, embodied Aspects and cycling, and you still didn’t get it. It would be kind of ridiculous for someone to not only meet, but exceed your progress.”
“Even if they are strong enough to survive the attention, they might want to avoid it anyway,” Porkchop pointed out.
“Lets just hope that Guilewind has something to share,” Kaius replied. “If not about who triggered the phase change, then at least the gates to the Shardworld.”
That was if the man even had the time to meet with them on short notice. The guild had to be a madhouse right now.
“True. He’ll be busy, especially with the reduced suppression on beasts.”
That was a pressing concern. Even with the high mana levels that had come with the previous stage of the Integration, the growing levels of beasts had started to level out. It happened naturally, as each creature closed in on the limit of their form.
But Porkchop had told him long ago that beasts could grow past those limits. A simple direwolf might be capped at the end of the first tier, but if they kept pushing and striving, they might one day evolve into something more dangerous, and their growth would continue. As far as he was aware, it was like needing to earn an Uncommon class to progress to the second tier.
More Tyrants sounded like a far more pressing and dangerous problem. Although, at least with them the strong had a very compelling reason to hunt them down for their Droplets of Tyranny. Offering those who had advanced too far a way to ignite their own Aspects was invaluable.
Really, it was the Shardworld itself that lingered most on his mind. Or, more accurately, these ‘great gates’ the system had mentioned. Depending on how many there were, where they were found, and what resources could be obtained within, the gates could very easily lead to conflict. He hoped no ruler would be that much of a fool, but, well…
He liked Julian — against his better judgement — but travelling with the man had certainly proven that even tolerable nobles had a rather warped sense of priorities.
Kaius glanced back, seeing no sign of the honour guard that had been sent for the nobles. Who knew how long they would have before the young lords would emerge from the trees with a bright-blue dragon in tow.