Chapter 503 Eternity in a Blade (1/2)

CHAPTER 503

ETERNITY IN A BLADE

Ion charged madly, his roar akin to one of a thousand beasts, his spear dancing in the sunlight. He looked to have no care how many people were around him -- be it a hundred or a thousand -- as he charged well past the line of the skirmish, and jostled his way into the heart of the enemy's vanguard.

He was followed there by only nine others who surrounded his flanks, barely hanging on while he commenced the carnage of a lifetime. Like a spitfire, he began throwing spears that reappeared back in his hand a mere moment later, all around him, boring holes through countless bodies in the process. His Will manifested into a gold-maned winged-lion behind him that swatted at the sides with massive claws, cracking the souls of anyone who met them directly.

Coated in a thick sheen of putrid green, he danced and hollered about like a firefly, swinging, thrusting, and slicing without a break. His armor, well beyond the point of simply staining, had over a hundred cracks but was yet to break wholly, somehow held together through its will alone.

The grandness of his manner imposed terror on those who faced him, so much so that he was managing to hold the steady line this deep in and prevent reinforcements from going to the line of the skirmish, instead relayed over toward him. He fought with all the fervor he had in his blood, ignoring his injuries, the draught of Qi in his veins and meridians, the sheer tiredness that his mind was enveloped in.

He flashed to the side, thrusting the spear that elongated right after into a straight fireline, boring a tunnel through the spacetime, warping it around itself and causing over two hundred soldiers to get sucked into the current, disintegrated in the storm. Stepping into his pivot foot, he spun and heaved the spear back over his head, sticking it into the earth and using it as a propeller to bolt himself over to the other side, stirring along the winds of death.

Just as he was about to cleave open another set of skulls, a dark-jetted blade met his spear and stopped him. His mind finally jolted back into consciousness as he warily backed away, eyeing the newcomer for a moment before realizing who it was -- Erebus, Bearer of the Dark. The man was clad entirely in black, a cloak and a tightly-wound mask covering his face save for the pair of abyss-drawing eyes.

It took Ion a moment to register another figure homing in onto him -- he couldn't see it, as it didn't exist, set somewhere in the limbo between the life and death. He drew his spear back and got into a half-bent stance, holding the shaft with both his hands, putting his strength onto his left leg which was drawn a few paces back, ready to pivot to any angle an attack might come from.

”You're a long way from home,” Erebus said, flickering the sword as he took a step forward toward Ion. ”Young General.”

”You're even further,” Ion grinned, standing his ground. ”Though, I suppose, anyone with half a brain would prefer this scenery to be their resting place. I commend you for it, and we certainly welcome you.”

”Look around.” Erebus said, taking another step forward. ”Do you really think you're winning?”

”Always,” Ion replied simply, the gleam in his eyes sharpening. ”In the end, we'll sing in the Evermore. Reborn into infinity. I'd say that's well worth it.”

”You bear the legacies of desolation and destruction,” Erebus said, lifting his sword over the black-belted shoulder pad adorned with concentric spikes, seven in total. ”Neither Evermore nor the Rebirth awaits you. Just the depressing Nothingness of the void.”

”... well, I suppose there's only one way to find out, no?” Ion cracked a smile taking a deep breath. ”Come, traitors of your Maker. I've been waiting for this moment for a long, long time.”

**

A shadow made up entirely of liquid-like jolts slithered along the bed of the earth like a snake, melding into it, before bursting out in a swift, violent motion and striking with a dagger in-between the binds of the plate leggings. Shouts around abound as it blazed back, digging into the earth and splintering into blurred clones that backed away in a cone.

Arts of the light and dark landed right after, forming a cracking web of lines as Eyrine shuffled her aim from the ground to her left, across a splintered set of rocks, unleashing a massive arrow of light.

Lucky gritted her teeth as she bent backward unnaturally, so much so that she could feel her spine crack slightly, while she swatted her daggers above her chest, barely managing to deflect the arrow. Even still, the sheer remnant energy belted against her chest, caving her lungs in and causing her to spit out a mouthful of blood while being cannoned into the earth, rolling through the thick trees and forming a boulder-shaped road by her body.

Bloodied, dirtied and muddied, she immediately heaved onto her feet, ignoring the pain, her disheveled hair plastered by blood against her angered face. Channeling Qi as quickly as she could, she molded back into the shadows, darting around the razed trees and boulders and through the rising storm of dust. Her figure vanished from the sights of those who stood opposite of her, each and every person nimbly pulling back into a tight circle with Eyrine and Huruk safely tucked in at the center.

A shift in space to her left alarmed Eyrine as she pulled her arm over Huruk and flung him behind her; just a breath later, a set of over a thousand fingernail-thin needles burst out, coated in an acidic liquid, toward them. She flung her bow to the floor and crossed her arms across her chest, channeling Qi into a makeshift screen of protection. Before it was broken through, the two were dragged sideways, over a dozen men faced with a rain of poison that felled each and every one of them by the end.

Lucky appeared on the outside, behind a small shrubbery to their left; because she was tying them up, the fight was beginning to stabilize. However, both knew it was just temporary; she was growing tired, low on reserves, and the entanglement would cease soon enough.

”An admirable effort,” Eyrine spoke, meeting Lucky's thorny gaze. ”Yet, just short of a success.”