The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 499: The Others' Battles

A few minutes before landing, a small rod-like ship reached the highest height. Erden opened his eyes for the short, brief moment before the descent would begin, cutting himself from Oscar's view of the white mess hall to a breathtaking sight, one he wished Oscar could behold from his eyes. Outside the porthole window, sealed shut by glass, bolts, and metal, the sky was split into two. The darkness that formed the night and void between the stars blanketed the upper half as the world below narrowed, the horizon curved like a ring, a vast spectacle of landmasses and oceans resting beneath the clouds.

Everything looked so small, yet magnificent. Was this the view King Exalts enjoyed? Not even Marshal Exalts had the power to reach these heights, let alone a Knight Exalt like himself.

Bedazzled and awestruck, Erden tugged and tried to move for a better look but remembered he was strapped to the ship, special metal bands wrapped around his neck, back, and legs, holding him in place. Oscar described it as a special measure for the intensity of the fall that placed even Marshal Exalts at their toes. Relaxing his struggle, Erden saw the others strapped in their seats, wearing fabricator masks. Their heavy breathing huffed out clearly, even through the quiet, filtered breathing tubes on their sides, until the ship groaned and shook violently, his stomach cramping as it began its freefall. His bone quaked between the joints, and the world broke apart in flux, never a still moment for him to focus.

The world outside the porthole quickly plunged down, the darkness of the void beyond scattered away, and the curvature of the horizon recovered to its straight stability. The tremors didn't end. It reached his brain and forced blood out of his nose, eyes, and ears, and Erden clenched, holding in the pain of the pressure of the fall squeezing on his head. His brother, Oscar, suffered an entire month of torture to create this chance for Erden and the others, and there was no way he would let it go to waste.

'Two minutes.' Erden relayed this to Oscar. If he wanted, he could retreat into Oscar's mind, forget the pain, and allow his mind to rest from the vertigo of the descent. But Erden needed to keep track of the timing. The ship shrieked, the walls screaming in shrill cries. A screw unloosened from a porthole and flew out as fast as Oscar's Golden Breaker, bouncing wildly in the confines of the ship. Parts of the ship caved in, twisting unnaturally. Everyone roused their Ein to defend themselves from the flinging stray screws and metals.

"I thought this thing was supposed to be stable!" One of the passengers screamed.

"It just needs to hold enough until we reach the ground!" Another shouted. "Be ready for war!"

'One minute.' Erden urged Oscar. It was the slowest minute of his life despite the ship descending at breakneck speeds. This vessel was one of Gol-4's brilliant creations. Though Erden always doubted the sanity of the severed golem head, this ship being one from a crazed, deteriorating mind, he, like Oscar, believed strongly in Gol-4's best intentions.

Looking back in Oscar's memories, Erden found the name of the vessel, the Stormpiercer, Gungnir. Similar to an arrow shot straight up, it ascended from the highest mountain closest to the Rurin Gaols within the Empire's borders, true to its name, piercing through the storm clouds looming over. The purpose of such an ascent was to travel a long arc at heights only King Exalts would bother to be and descend before they notice its arrival.

The other purpose was to use the speed of the descent and the high-quality material encompassing its sharp spear tip, courtesy of Aunt Rosett's best efforts, to penetrate deep into barriers and fortresses. In this case, the target was the Rurin Gaols.

A memory of Gol-4 laughing and bouncing on his head came to mind. Erden suddenly missed the old head, staring out the window as if he could see Drauwin Island, where the entrance to Ashen Grove rested. After many years, he had grown fond of that little gear-clicking head. Smiling fondly, Erden closed his eyes and braced for impact.

The ship crashed into something hard, and everyone lurched, their heads and necks stretching as if they might tear from their bodies. One loud booming explosion deafened their screams and the world behind the porthole changed into fire and stone. Another explosion rang, and another, and another. Four explosions in quick succession until the ship halted abruptly. Ignoring the pain wracking his body, Erden roared, his straps burning into tatters, and bolted out the doorway. The ship had four sections and four doorways meant for the four levels of the Rurin Gaols, built according to Oscar's information.

Erden entered in a burst of flame and recognized the mess hall of level three, a great battle already underway between the prisoners and the guards and brainwashed souls. Widening his mouth, Erden spat out three flaming orbs, containing a space pocket in each, and sent them out to where he felt Emily, Fred, and Oscar. He stomped quickly after the third flaming orb heading toward the stairs, toward Oscar.

…….

On the fourth level of the Rurin Gaols, Gunghir opened, and four figures stepped out. The entire place was a strange

"Draven is here. The entire place is reeking with his presence." Rosett Evergold, dressed in her fabricator uniform, swung her hammer once, clearing the wreckage and rubble into fine powder. She said coldly, "I can also sense that wench, Diane."

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"Shut up and get this over with. The plan hinges on our timely manner." Margaret Ward floated into the fourth level of the Rurin Gaols, her purple hair swaying lazily down to her waist, and her gray eyes scanned the area. "Going in without any information other than the bo–Oscar's observation of level three is bad."

"Oh, you're so cold. Then, you won't mind me taking the first chance at him!" Rosett cheered.

"Go die in a ditch. Who said you have the right?" Margaret stared daggers into Rosett, a chilling, icy gaze that reflected the desire to shatter her into a million pieces.

"Excuse me. We need to go going, Grand Commander. We're on a tight schedule. Five minutes until activation." Reni Hessen burst out of Gunghir, clad in her blue armor from head to toe. "I never expected to leave the borders so soon after returning. That hero of ours is ridiculous."

"He's full of surprises. Ladies, shall we go?" Elias Atherton smiled warmly. They descended the stairs and entered a large underground cavern spacious enough to fit an entire city. When they arrived, hostile Ein rose in response, and several figures floated above, radiating fierce light.

"Here they come!" Margaret shouted.

…….

On the third level, Emily knelt on the floor in disbelief. She had fought down a hallway to deter the enemy's reinforcements from intervening and held on for a good minute until these strangers arrived. Emily spat out blood and forced herself to stand up, staring at the woman. The woman wore the same prison clothes as herself but smiled as if she were a mother with a child, sweet and endearing. She was shorter than Emily, only around Erik's height at five feet four inches, with cute freckles dotting her cheeks almost like dimples. Her hair was tied into lower twin tails, and she laughed and talked in the bratty voice of a youngster.

"Hey, old lady! You should leave me alone. I can't guarantee your survival if you do." The strange girl puffed her cheeks and cutely swayed her head. Her actions may be adorable, but Emily knew better than to fall for it, regarding the girl as a psycho.

"I can't let you pass. You're dangerous." Emily held her cracking staff anima, sweat collecting in her palms from her nervousness. The girl was too strange of an enemy.

"Ah, I'm sorry, then. We need to make use of this chance!" The strange girl suddenly disappeared, and Emily gritted her teeth, unable to see those movements in the Prinstyct.

Feeling her hunter instincts tremble, Emily turned to her side to see the strange girl throw a punch. To counter, she swung her staff anima, pulsing with seismic force and covered in earth, but the girl's punch carried a powerful impact, one that Emily immediately recognized.

"Shattering Wave?" Forced back several paces from the impact, Emily recalled the name of Oscar's signature attack. She glared at the strange girl with many veins wriggling around her reddened skin, a discomfort across the girl's brow, and shouted, "How do you know that? Are you New Dawn?"

The features of this girl's aggravated appearance matched how Oscar described the Reis Core users. And only the New Dawn had the power to create and use those accursed objects. From Emily's words, the strange girl stopped her subsequent punch and mumbled to herself. She flashed a cheeky smile and said, "My, aren't you well informed? I'll have to take you in."

The entire prison trembled, and Emily felt a presence incoming. She smiled and held out her hand to catch a flaming orb. Perfect timing. Emily pulled out her staff armament, brandishing it against the strange girl. She clamped her staves together and melded them into one. Her gaze deepened with fiery resolve, glinting in the dimming light of the corridor, her Ein rising as her determination surged. "Get lost. I won't let you through."

"Shoot. This wasn't supposed to be the plan. I guess I'll deal with you first, old lady…." The girl no longer spoke in her bratty tone, replaced by an indifferent voice.

…….

Frederick gasped, clutching the wound on his body, his blood-ridden hands unable to hold back the tide of blood. Around him were the corpses of several others, the guards and brainwashed prisoners. Forcing himself up, Frederick used the walls to support himself down the hallways. He still had a job to do.

Then, the prison trembled, and Frederick smiled, knowing the others had arrived. He turned back and swiped the flaming orb, blowing the fires out with his winds and revealing the space pocket within. Reaching in, he pulled out his twin swords and a sizeable chunk of elixirs.

Since Oscar returned, he felt his core start to pulse slightly, progressing toward advancement. Then, after meeting Emily again, the core pulsed stronger. Even with his core chained and locked by the collar, he sensed the core was ready to advance and had Oscar tell Erden to prepare everything.

Frederick wasted no time and drank every elixir. The pain started in his core and spread to his fingertips. He gritted his teeth and kept his wits with him. Shouting, Frederick smashed his fists into the floor, refusing to let himself be a burden again. He forced the core to keep burning and spinning until it finally stopped like a lock clicking into place. A grand Ein swelled to every fiber of his body, and his injuries closed up.

He exhaled, drenched in blood and sweat, laughing. After so long, he finally entered the Greater Knight Exalt realm. Thanks to his friend, the knots in his heart loosened after twenty years, giving him this chance. Amid his celebration, a growl resounded from the other side, followed by a loud stomp.

"Now then. I was waiting for you." Frederick got to his feet as a loud stomping grew closer in slow strides. The Sweeper approached from the other end of the hallway, looking as grim as ever. Drool leaked from its damaged, mangled jaw, and it growled, baring its sharpened teeth. Frederick lifted his twin blades. "I didn't tell Oscar and Emily about your location because I didn't want them to. I couldn't help him twenty years ago, and I was too much of a coward to deal with the guilt and left Emily all alone."

The Sweep continued walking without showing any regard for Frederick's words. It seemed not to understand him.

"Not even looking at me…I don't know if you can understand my words or if you're just a mindless beast. But I have a reason to keep you from going." Frederick stepped toward the Sweeper, closing the distance slowly. "I keep telling myself I'm weak, but I survived all the years at the edge of the borders. Don't think I'll go down so easily."

Frederick summoned his hawk anima, and it dove into his twin swords, melding into a beautiful pair of wing blades, sharp swirling winds forming the feathers adorning the back edge of the blades. The Sweeper stopped and turned its head town to gaze at Frederick.

"Finally, looking at me." Frederick grinned and juggled his blades around. His eyes gleamed as they narrowed into a piercing gaze, like a hunter eyeing its prey. "You're not getting through."

"Grrrrrrrr!" The Sweeper roared and began its charge.

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