Return of the Tower Conqueror

Chapter 383

Adulation (II)

Quinn was heaving about her blade and shield, easily deflecting several strikes of her opponent. As luck would have it, the man was some variant of a Blademaster, deep into speedy ins-and-outs, which meant that she was a nightmare opponent for him since he couldn’t even get past her defenses without spending far too much Mana in the process.

For her, she didn’t need to do much but simply delay—one way or another, Cain will clean it all up and, by then, it won’t be late to go all out for a little while. And delaying was her specialty, especially against physical-damage-based opponents who could barely touch her massive health pool.

The man abruptly made distance between the two, unhelming, revealing a face of someone in his mid-forties. It was remarkable, still, how similar all human species were across the many worlds. The one distinction were the high brows that protruded over the man’s eyes, but it’s not as though she had never seen such a skull before either.

“Who are you?” the man asked in a language that Quinn hadn’t heard in some time. Thrice-Awakened, especially, spent a lot of time ‘outside’ the Towers, honing themselves. It was usually in the pockets of space where they could interact with the world without the Towers’ system, and because of it, they had to develop—or at least settle on—a common language to speak and use between the members of different world. The language was called Myaethin, named after an old world that was a famous tourist attraction a while, while back. “You not of this place.”

“…” the language was fairly limiting in its scope and has never been fully developed. It was there to simply share basic ideas and pose basic questions and was never intended to be used as a substitute to any other. “Why it matter?” she asked back.

“It matter because laws. You break laws.”

“No laws break. Not interact with Trial.”

“Bah, what an annoying fella. If you wanna fight, fight. If you wanna yap around like some aged, bored housewife, do it with someone else.”

“…” the man frowned. For all he knew, Quinn just insulted eighteen generations of his ancestry. And she clearly wasn’t all that interested in having a prolonged conversation anymore.

The two resumed their battle shortly after, with the man trying the best he could to get past her, but failing repeatedly. Such was the fate of a person wielding a blade against a prime tanker. Never a fun one.

Meanwhile, across the ever-expanding battlefield, fights were raging on relentlessly. While Cain tried his best to contain the massive influx, even he was incapable of holding back thousands upon thousands of twice-Awakened. As such, quite a few began to slip through the cracks—but those outside were ready. Well, ‘ready’ might be strong of a word, but they were at least awake.

Led by Emma, they cast a wide net across and even around the hollow island, spreading out into the ocean. By now, the rest of the world likely had noticed it too, as they could see choppers and planes whizzing by in the distance, likely too afraid to approach due to the density of Mana. Quinn hadn’t publicized the event, and neither had anyone else, which was likely why the rest of the world was more curious than terrified as to what was happening.

Senna shadowed Cain closely; she always had at least a hundred blades at her retainer, often sending them in coalition to halt someone from escaping for at least a little while, allowing Cain time to catch up. Even still, they were unable to hold it all together perfectly: many, soon by the dozens, began to slip past. However, it was astounding how few those were in comparison to the total number.

Watching Cain fight, Senna realized why neither Quinn nor the twins had a shred of respect for her or anyone on Earth, for that matter. Their exposure to this world was Cain—and they were all compared to him. And the simple truth was that they existed in different dimensions. Whenever she compared herself, and compared the decision she would make at any given moment, she always fell short. It was both humbling and humiliating at the same time, as she genuinely thought she was better than this, an inch closer, at least, than she was.

But there were many, many, many degrees of separation—if she could multitask with hundreds of weapons, and for that was called an unrivaled genius, then what about him? He was simultaneously fighting eighty-four battles against at least six opponents each. He was burning through so much Mana that even Senna was becoming dizzy at the sheer overflow of the damn thing. All she could do was hide behind him and assist him here and there—but it felt almost pointless. She knew because he only ever reacted to a few people who tried to slip out—while seemingly letting others go.

He didn’t go on an offensive—mostly middlingly counter-attacking to keep the invaders honest, while resolutely standing on the defensive, soaking up thousands of skills while making it seem all so effortless. Even if Senna knew it wasn’t effortless, the appearance of it was still demoralizing.

Sighing, she shuffled her sight back and down onto the ground where she saw everyone struggling, too. She also realized why the purification was so important—if they hadn’t undergone it, the overflow of Mana would have made them all sick. In fact, there were already several dozen of the people who weren’t part of the raid keeling over and letting their innards out. Had they not undergone that trial, they would have been in the same position.

Cain frowned; the unrelenting aggression of the enemy wasn’t something he anticipated. They seemed dead-set, almost, on breaching past him, willing to toss hundreds of bodies away even for an inkling of a chance. He’d already noticed a few that had stayed in the back and gazed at the opportunity to slip past him, which were the only ones he held back in the first place. They were some degrees stronger than the rest, likely much closer to being thrice-Awakened.

Even still, it was a worrying trend, as his initial plan was to shellshock them into a slower advance and eventual retreat. Or, at least, terrorize them enough for them to offer an amnesty. Neither of those things looked likely to happen, though, if the current trajectory persisted. Sighing, he deflected yet another chain of skills and glanced down.

They were struggling. It wasn’t strange—they were up against twice-Awakened, and however trained and talented they were, this world was still in its infancy, as were its Conquerors.

His frown deepened further. It wasn’t all bleak just yet—in fact, he could resolve the situation any time he wanted, but that wasn’t the smartest thing he could do, even he knew that much. The best case scenario was to wait for whoever was sent to help him from the Divine Realm. Just as the question popped inside his head, as though by the cosmic hand of fate, he felt a strange blub of energy appear just outside the Earth’s orbit. The only reason he even noticed it was because it was extremely distinct, akin to nothing he ever directly experienced before, causing him look up and beyond. There, he saw a figure dressed in simple white war-skirt, observing the world below.

It was a young woman, Cain took a gander—though her gender and age were likely up to dispute, as everyone liked to modify their appearances, especially the old, bored ones. She remained floating there for a little while longer before her eyes zeroed in on him. There were some questions in them—and those questions quickly came flooding out inside his mind.

“You are the one?”

“Depends. The one who invented the fish and chips? Nah. The one currently sweating balls trying to defend his world? Yup.”

“You seem to be doing just fine, even while holding back.”

“Oi. Can’t you come and help?”

“It’s too early,” her voice was flat and emotionless, as though nothing in the world could make it move another decibel. “This is a good opportunity for your world. Or, rather, the Conquerors of it. Young worlds hardly ever get flush with opportunity to metamorphosize this early and this distinctly. If I step in, your opportunity will vanish.”

“… I’m getting a sudden urge to get up there and slap you. No offense.”

“None taken. I do incite such reaction from people, often. Nonetheless, my word is true. They are young and inexperienced children. It will do them well to see death outside the Towers, and to see the unchained devotion some worlds will have toward their goal. I will loom and observe. Let them fight. They have earned at least that much of your trust, hadn’t they?”

Cain pondered for a moment; it was true that the fight, so long as it was within a controlled measure, would do a lot of good for a number of people here. Perhaps, it might even reshape some of them, turning them from run-of-the-mill Conquerors to some generational talents. But the problem was... he was the only one who could control the environment, and it wasn’t as though it was easy for him either. Sighing, he realized that there would be no rest for him--not for a little while longer, anyway. Ah, the things I do for love... yes, let’s call it love. Sounds more... noble. And memorable. Why does it sound memorable? I hardly ever say memorable things...

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