The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

"Lord Taradon. Don't hold back. My plan will work even better…if you tire him out. Don't mind any injuries." Auren managed to speak out in short gasps. The clash between Lysander's and Gilbert's Ein suppressed the entire area, a sudden weight pushing on his shoulders. He reeled and coughed from the pain of his organs being squeezed, enduring with gritted teeth and stepping slowly to the center. He made it to the center and slashed his palm, drawing blood. Tracing his finger on the smooth surface, he inscribed nodes and connected them. "Please buy time for me."

Lysander smirked, "You're an interesting one. But I don't dislike one with such fierce determination even to order me. Unlike this one here." He regarded Gilbert with a scoff, showing blatant disrespect. "You have a purpose here, but your heart's not in it. I can't tell whether to pity you or to despise you, but you do deserve a good beating for once in your life."

"A beating?" Gilbert's face darkened, his voice dropping to a sudden chill that made Auren shiver, and he cursed at the mistake in his formation, wiping it off and starting anew. The surge of Ein rising didn't help him either, and Gilbert rose, floating in the air. "I've endured enough in the beginning. Don't speak to me of what I deserve. I know what I deserve, and it's waiting for me here. Get out of my way, you lowly Talos breed!"

As the insults flew out of Gilbert's mouth, Lysander dashed in and swung a diamond punch straight toward the chest. An enormous broadsword, wide as a person's waist, blocked with the fist on its side, lighting coiling and radiating on its surface. Strangely, Auren could see everything happening, somehow connecting to the formation laden in the area and granted a bird's eye perspective. Lysander breathed in and whipped his sturdy leg, blocked by Gilbert's quick reaction and swing despite the size of the broadsword.

The faintest ripples of their fight were fiercer than the winds of a hurricane. Gloria and Renn set up barriers of light and darkness, shifting them in and out to repel the slicing winds. As Auren worked, scribbling more of the complex formation, he watched the battle between the two apex Grade Nines, a rarity in any age and era. Gilbert formed six orbs of dense lightning, the mere excess sparking off flames in the air. He kept Lysander engaged in close combat, which the Shattered Scion welcomed with a smile, but one of the orbs floated to the side and surged a violent stream of lightning aimed right at Lysander.

It swelled and enlarged, engulfing the tall Lysander in a tide of lightning. The other orbs snapped in different directions, surrounding him and firing beams of lightning. Gilbert didn't allow a single moment for retaliation and slashed once, a single thunderous cry erupting in the swing of his sword. An arc of Lightning slashed apart the blinding mess of the lighting orbs' beams and expanded, striking the floor and piercing the starry sky in an instant. The flash even hid Lysander from Auren's viewpoint, but the Shattered Scion waltzed out of the puff of smoke, covering his nose.

"Lightning smells terrible. You could put a little more into your attacks." Lysander cracked his neck, shaking off the last fizzles of static coursing on his skin. His skin carried a slight yellowish sheen, radiating a warm light. His hand blurred, and when it returned, it gripped one of the lightning orbs. He placed it in his mouth and chewed it, spitting out sparks of lightning in disgust, much to Auren's horror and Gilbert's clear shock. "Ah, see. It's a terrible taste, ghastly, horrid. Conserving strength right now is a fool's errand. Let me see the true you."

Renn and Gloria stood in silence, eyes wide at Lysander. Gilbert twitched and lowered his broadsword with a mocking smile. What was he planning? Auren suspected something amiss and winced as Gilbert let out a piercing whistle that grew higher in pitch, needling in his ears. From the edges of his bird's eye perspective, Auren saw a large hand grip the edge. It was coated in a thick layer of rust and metal. Lysander, Renn, and Gloria stared at the behemoth that emerged, seemingly having scaled the walls of the dark tower.

"That's not fair. Bringing in that thing." Lysander shook his head and sighed heavily, looking disappointed.

"Oh, this?" Gilbert gestured toward the titan. "No. I am more than enough to handle you. He's here for the three behind you. I preferred to conserve his strength. But I sense I need to kill them first. Can you keep your composure now, so-called Scion?" He pointed at Auren, Renn, and Gloria, his blue eyes glowing with fierce cruelness. "Kill them!"

"It's ok, Lord Taradon!" Auren tossed his space pocket to Renn, keeping his attention on the formation, which had hundreds of nodes and lines written on it. He laughed and praised his Lord, "We weren't here without proper protection. Our Lord made them for this exact purpose." He clenched his teeth at the end of his words. He thought of Santen and Kragg, who might have required the aid in their desperate fight, but this trump card was solely for the purpose of fighting this titan. And they knew it as well and had Auren leave.

Renn opened the space pocket and freed four towering figures, eleven feet tall and wider than three humans. Their simple descent shook the disk for a moment. The four Champions, the pinnacle of golemcraft, gathered and lined up, facing the titan that strode slowly. Uriah, clad in golden armor and staring out a yellow glow in its visor, raised its long hammer. Mekal gripped its long sword in a stance, bringing it close to its chest and pointing straight up. The sword flared and blazed in a great flame that reflected and brightened its scarlet armor. Gavuel twirled its trident, a dense stream of water trailing behind its swing. In scaly, blue armor, it stomped forward and leaned its head out, provoking the titan. The last, Rahel, clad in teal armor, walked slowly, knocking its staff on the floor.

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"Great! Great!" Lysander applauded. "Those are fine golems. They may not be alive, but I like the fierce stares. Then, Gil, you're out of options."

"Four measly golems can't stand against a guardian. What a foolish endeavor. As for you…you've run your mouth on for far too long." Gilbert gripped his broadsword and surged an immense Ein, lightning vortexing around him. A golden sheen coated his broadsword, seemingly the Meld, and lightning condensed on his body, shining dense white as an avatar of pure lightning, his Integration. An Ancestral Mark shone on his forehead and quelled the rampant lightning, silencing all to an eerie calm. "You are not born of a great blood, so you have no mark. The difference in our birthrights is a distance you cannot cross."

"As usual, your words are so hollow. Who cares? All that strength, and you have nothing." Lysander clenched his fists and roared, emitting a golden light that soon rushed back into him. His skin still had the yellow glow, but faint silvery veins pushed against it. He lacked the Ancestral Mark, but Auren believed the Shattered Scion's unique Anima in Integration might balance the odds.

On the other side, Rahel held its spear, gusts swirling and amassing into a great hurricane on its tip, and thrust forward, hitting the rusted toes of the titan's right foot. Gavuel stampeded ahead and rode the winds of Rahel's blow, stabbing under the titan's foot, spewing water that made the foot slip back. Even without Auren's orders, they seemed to know the best course of action, which was to knock the titan off the edge. The titan groaned and slammed a hand down. Uriah leaped to the side of the descending palm and bashed its hammer, knocking the palm off course. Mekal burst in a blaze and spiraled up the right leg, slashing a single burning trail coiling up the leg.

'It's really conserving its strength. What does it need it for?' Auren dipped his finger in his bleeding palm and scribbled more, confused about the titan's strange action. It lacked the initial burst his Lord had described before. Whatever it was hiding, it didn't matter as long as he finished in time. The titan, aged and rusted, held little fighting capabilities and control other than its devastating swings, perfect for the combination of the four Champions to hold back despite the difference in raw strength and Ein.

Back to Gilbert and Lysander, the two Grade Nines couldn't be seen with the naked eye, the mere glance of their Ein forcing Renn and Gloria to shut their eyes while pouring strength into their barriers. Gilbert called down a stampede of lightning beasts that twisted and dispersed in the asteroid field that emanated varying gravity forces. A single one of those attacks could end their lives, but for these Grade Nines, it was a mere mild exchange. Gilbert zipped in, ignoring the gravity and beaming straight for Lysander.

Lysander clapped his hands, bringing the asteroids hammering on Gilbert and clumping into an earthen prison. He reached his hand out and gripped strongly as the prison of rock tightened and crushed into a smaller size. A strong crackling turned into roaring thunder from inside, and lightning spilled out, slicing the prison in half. Gilbert zigzagged and stabbed toward Lysander's back. Lysander turned fast and met Gilbert's stab with a forward diamond punch, lightning storming one half and gravity containing the other.

"You must be foolish or a madman!" Gilbert's broadsword made loud clanks on Lysander's diamond body, his arms and legs clashing against sharp lightning edges. His words weren't without reason since Lysander was matching Gilbert's Ein blow for blow, wasting his own Ein against one with an Ancestral Mark. The boost of Ein and the quality of its sharpness required more to defend and counter. For some reason, Gilbert looked anxious, not wanting to waste his strength.

Auren couldn't ponder the mystery any longer. Another group joined them on the tower's peak, a few groaning in pain, covered in blood, not theirs. They must have fought in a recent battle. His attention went to the woman with blond hair and devilish red eyes. She looked at Gilbert with an endearing smile, and he shouted out a few orders, her gaze hardening with malice at Auren, Renn, and Gloria. Of all people, it had to be Arlena Bluhan, the holy daughter of the Bloodlands. Where were their forces?

"Three little rats have scurried to the place where my husband should stand. Bring them before me!" Arlena ordered her subordinates, and they rushed ahead past Arlena and two other women. Auren remarked at the sheer beauty of the three women, one with red hair and red eyes and the other with pink hair and blue eyes, then shook his head, afraid of betraying Maia, though nothing happened yet between them. He recalled their names, Isabella Lockwood and Aurora Lockwood, another two of Gilbert's wives.

"Renn, I'm sorry." Gloria sighed and brushed her hair aside, standing firm as the enemy drew closer.

"Why do you always speak so negatively? If it goes wrong, take Auren and run into the hatch. I'll do what I can." Renn pushed his sister aside, his dark sword emitting a black haze.

"Go back and marry Renee, stupid older brother." Gloria pressed her staff on the floor and erected a dense wall of light, halting Renn.

"Why do you never listen?!" Renn shouted.

"I'm not leaving here!" Gloria shouted back.

The two turned to the enemy that leaped up, brandishing their armaments with deadly intent. Their powers far exceeded Renn and Gloria's. Right before they could breach Gloria's wall, a dragon's roar echoed and weakened the enemy, toppling them back to the second layer of disks. A beautiful woman stepped in front of Renn and Gloria, giving them a charming smile; her silver hair was radiant under the starry night, and her emerald eyes were full of warmth.

"Princess?" Gloria looked shocked and smiled widely. "It's you!"

"You two have grown up well. Renn, Gloria. I'm sorry for being late." Celestina smiled back and faced down at Arlena and the others. The rest of the Brilliant Drake Empire people gathered behind her, all somehow together, and she raised her rapier, pointing it at Arlena. "Ever since the war, I've waited for this moment. I will avenge the lives lost due to your vanity, or I am not a Dragnar."

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