Return of the Tower Conqueror

Chapter 315

Ascendance (XVI)

The sheer expenditure of Mana within the briefest nanosecond caused a series of implosions that decimated the surrounding area. Ripples echoed out into sonic booms, further destroying the throne room, even before the two had a chance to clash.

Cain blinked back, dodging the electric strike of the blade that far surpassed the speed of sound. At this level, fights were not a matter of skill and pre-meditation, but rather a test of precognition and reflexes. Not only was it about predicting where and how a strike would land, but also what kind of a skill would it be, its furthest outreach, as well as the ability to deal with the moment-to-moment changes.

In his past life, this was also one of the reasons he never managed to break through his eventual plateau--he was unable to match up with those who could simply think faster and act faster at times where one’s brain simply doesn’t have enough time to process what was happening.

Even the most evolved species, Cain had learned, were the same--brain’s capacity to process information was limited, especially quickly, which was why it teaches the body to react to certain things--such as, for instance, when putting the hand over the open flame, the instinct is to immediately pull it back, or when experiencing any kind of electric shock.

When it comes to fighting at this level, however, it even goes beyond that; life continues to flash and lights blind you, and all sounds are eradicated from existence. One fights amidst the silence and darkness, unaware of the realities floating by. Void hangs tall and looms each and every passing tick of time, one incalculable by a mind. All, there and then, is ethereal, ephemeral.

Fire surged in the colors of the sun around Cain, discharging outwardly in a ring-like fashion and diving like an all-consuming tsunami, a beast beyond beasts, the kind that swallows the worlds. Yet, amidst the fire darkness surged, and a blade as thick as the night itself bellowed out, cutting directly through the fire, shooting an array of encroaching darkness that forced him to slam his palms together and enthrall the lights of cosmos to his side.

Starlight burst out of his eyes and slammed into the black fire, causing yet another implosion, usurping the law and order of the universe. The throne collapsed and the pillars collapsed and the pillar of light and dark, of colors muted and saturated, shot up to the sky, through the roof, obliterating it.

Like an upward-down canopy, it spread--like fireworks it blasted off into the sky, for the whole world to see.

In the meantime, two men surged toward one another, darkness in the shape of a gaping maw of an eldritch beast crying toward the fire-consumed silhouette that blared out a mile-long blade of fire and stabbed forth.

The death and the life both cried in concert, shedding off the pulps of reality in the clash of dimensions. The sheer blasts of energy caused cutting winds that bled through the matter itself, disparaging the world.

All was silent around him--all was quick yet fast, incomparable paradoxes. He saw the firing of the darkness and his body recoiled, Mana within him awakening in a raged answer. He was one with the world, Cain realized; Mana didn’t exist within him alone, but without too. He’d always known that--known that the world was larger than the sight the eyes captured. But he could never touch it. It was beyond him.

The blade slashed forward and cut through the matter, and it cut through his shoulder. He barely moved in time to avoid the lethal blow. Blood sprayed out and pain hurled at his soul. He ignored it, though. There was no pain grander than that of death. So long as life was afforded, all could be endured.

He was a King--a crowned, bejeweled light. And he fought another. He realized what it meant--it was as though the two of them were pulling away at the threads of the world, the tiny, invisible apparatuses that controlled the whole world. Push and pull, like a children’s game with cosmic-reaching consequences.

At one moment, he’d gain control over the world’s Mana and use it to funnel a skill he’d otherwise be unable to cast--such as a void-cast series of cosmic-dyed swords, each a mile long, piercing and untouchable.

And the next moment, the other one would regain the control, and he’d use it to funnel skills he’d otherwise be unable to cast--such as the enshrouded blade of darkness that split the world in two. It cut down and it cut deep, leaving a hole that went on beyond vision in the ground.

The two held nothing back, and in their wake the world wept; what was living ran, and what was dying awoke from the eternal slumber to shake in terror. Even Cain, in the back end of his mind, was horrified. This was never how he fought. This wasn’t how he expected to fight.

The sheer scale was not something that he ever imagined. In fact, even during the peak of his strength, when he could control the winds and the fires and the energy of the world, he was but a pup staring at the sky in envy. And now... now he could cast a dye of death toward those very same skies and laugh at them.

He’d never quite seen anything like this--no matter who fought. It wasn’t the matter of levels or class or anything as such, he realized; this was... something more. This was the battle of Kings. And Kings were few.

Cain blinked thrice in a row abruptly at what seemingly looked like the most ordinary strike yet. Deep inside, however, he knew that it was the deadliest--the simple movement of the simple blade... killed the part of the world. It was dry of everything, a reflection of something ethereal only keeping up the appearance.

“Chaos...” he mumbled. If it touched him, it would have erased him. Resistance to Chaos did not mean that directly contacting it would have no consequences; on the contrary, he might have just died quicker. It just meant that he’d suffer fewer or no after-effect consequences. The two paused for a moment, reflecting upon the reality. All of the fighting thus far... was a prelude. A showcase. A public ego drive. Not the duel yet, not the duel of death.

Quinn stared aghast at the world. It was different. It changed so spectacularly and so quickly and so drastically that she was horrified. Horrified of who she befriended. Of who she joked with. Of who she considered herself as equal. Cain... was a King. A true, proper King.

While the mortal worlds’ Kings were largely ordinary, or slightly greater men of heritage and luck, the Kings of the Trials were beings that bore a stigmata upon their shoulders--they were beset by elements primordial and tested continuously. A King wasn’t just a man with a fancy crown, but someone who survived battles beyond deadly and faced foes beyond their means repeatedly throughout the life.

And two of such people... were fighting. Fights like these were not only rare, but catching even a glimpse of them was... astronomical. Watching them battle was equal amounts horrifying as well as awe-inspiring. It wasn’t merely the spectacle of it, though that was breathtaking in its own right, but the minute changes and applications of Mana. The reaction times. The fact that they didn’t fight so much as they foresaw.

Even literal hundreds of miles away from the epicenter of fighting, she could feel the shockwaves sweep over her. If she hadn’t coated herself with a Mana shield, she would have been disintegrated. Numerically, the amount of Mana being spent... was incalculable. Likely tens of times her entire reserves. It wasn’t that Cain had reserves that were that much larger than hers, but that he could control natural Mana, so-called ‘World Mana’.

“You sure picked up something interesting, Q’,” a familiar voice spoke out but, for the first time in many, many moons, she had no energy to be angry with them.

“You gonna follow him?” the other one asked.

“You guys will?” she realized, glancing toward them.

“Of course,” the twins shrugged, though just one spoke. “Meeting a King, especially one this young, is like finding a Primordial Gem just lying around randomly in front of your house. That stuff just doesn’t happen. Yet, it did. Plus, he’s battling someone with a Chaos Gem without outright dying, which means his Chaos Resistance is at least at half a percent. Which means...”

“He can go there.”

“Yeah. And since he’s a young King from an underdeveloped world, his Knights and Guards are nothing compared to us,” one of them added.

“Haah, I don’t think you can win him over that way,” Quinn shook her head, chuckling bitterly.

“What do you mean?”

“Look at him. Do you really think he needs us?”

“...”

“I’ll ask,” she added. “As for whatever he responds... that’s on him. Hush now, they’re starting again. If we’re lucky, we can pick up on something.”

“And even if we don’t, just watching the Kings fight... haah, if only Mana control came that easily...”

“If indeed...”

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