Black Onyx - Phoenix Resurrection

“So, trying to poach our people now, are you?” A man growled.

The group of fifteen warriors spread out around the entrance to the grand hall, looking aggrieved. They stood in two distinct lines, five people at the front and ten in the back, each of them in full combat attire with plates and chainmail made of various Qi-conductive metals. Tough-looking leather straps held it all together, keeping the pieces tight so they overlapped and barely left any openings or weak points.

Jewels and gemstones glowed in the dim light, the magic effects each of them carried giving off some light as a byproduct.

The Enchanter gulped nervously. “I think we will have to postpone our discussion.”

[For those guys? I don’t think so.] Gerald snorted and took a seat at the table, gesturing for the Enchanter guy to do the same.

“I…” The man looked between the gang of warriors and Gerald who was casually sitting down. Ultimately he decided to do what seemed best and sat down, turning his back towards the entrance.

“Right, how perfect. This is exactly the reason we are here.” The guy at the front spoke with a sneer. “It’s time you learned to show some respect to your elders.”

Gerald looked up from the table. [And I assume you lot are going to be the ones to teach me?]

“That’s right! Me and my friends will show you how to properly act in the presence of your betters. But first, let us introduce ourselves like civilized people.” He began, gesturing at himself. “My name is-”

[I don’t care.] Gerald cut him off.

“W-what?”

Gerald slowly stood up. [I’m going to say this one time, and one time only, so listen up. I’m giving you this chance to reconsider. Stop bothering me, return to your leader, and I will consider this transgression forgotten.]

“Huh?” The group took a more aggressive stance. Almost as if they couldn’t believe a younger Cultivator was ordering them around.

[Alternatively, you can also choose to stay here and fight me. That would be a bad decision, mind you, for you would undoubtedly all die. Choose wisely.]

The group looked at each other and then burst out laughing. The Enchanter nervously swallowed while watching it all unfold. He was suddenly feeling extremely warm, and the air became more oppressive than he remembered. Or maybe it was just him.

“Haha, good, good! And you are so arrogant to boot! Oh, I’m so going to enjoy breaking that pretty face of yours!”

[Last warning. Leave.]

“Fuck you, punk! Your bluffs don’t scare us!” They barked back.

[Fine. Have it your way.] Gerald shrugged, and a white mist began forming around him. He stepped back, and the mist condensed, forming another copy of him.

“Pfft! A doppelganger?” Some guy laughed. “That’s still more than seven of for each one of you!”

[Seven?] Gerald lifted an eyebrow. [Oh, I’m not fighting you. Where would be the fun in that?]

More white mist spread out and formed another two exact copies. Then another three. And four. By the end of it, fifteen exact copies of him stood against the unwanted guests.

Everyone present stared dumbly at the incredibly lifelike Qi constructs. The doppelgangers were so convincing, in fact, that they even copied the look of the original, becoming completely indistinguishable. Heck, they even began to grin and crack their knuckles in preparation for a fight.

[To make things fair, each of them only has about 10% of my power. It’s an overkill, I know, but just bear with it, okay? You are going to die either way.]

Gerald clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to speak emotionlessly. [Now, I know some of you might want to say that the numbers don’t add up. 10 times 15 is over 100%, right? How does that work? Together they have more energy than my body can contain, right? Yeah, well, fuck you. Focus less on math and instead prepare to meet your god. Oh, wait… They are also dead!]

With the shout, the first copy moved, instantly killing a young-ish guy in the back. It directly ignored the rest of them and straight-up pierced his chest with a well-aimed punch. The copy grinned as it tore out the core of the Cultivator, letting the dying body fall limply to the floor.

[Heh. You should have clothed yourself in knowledge, for all the good your scraps of armor did you.]

“You… bastard!”

The remaining fourteen instantly turned on the assailant in their midst, and a dozen blades and magic instantly pierced through it, blowing it apart. As the doppelganger dissipated, the creepy cackle it released slowly faded away, giving no satisfaction to the ones who killed it.

The white mist full of energy evenly split up, entering every one of the remaining copies.

[Oh!] Gerald snapped his fingers with a playful expression. [I should probably tell you guys that with each of my creations you kill, the rest become proportionally stronger.]

The leader’s eyes enlarged, realizing the implication of his words.

“You insolent little-!” His enraged lunge was intercepted by another copy, its hand going for his heart. He just barely avoided it, the amulet on his chest glowing and pushing him out of harm’s way at the last possible moment.

At the same time, the rest of the doppelgangers also attacked, each of them going for a different target. The Enchanter just stared with his mouth slightly agape, when a blinding ball of energy flew in his face.

He barely flinched back, fully aware he was hopeless to stop it as any energy coming from anyone more than three Levels higher than him was more than he could handle. Yet just as he thought his life was going to end, the ball of energy splattered and exploded against a nearly invisible barrier in the shape of a bubble that encased him and the immediate area around him. The world went silent.

[Right… That should keep those suicidal freaks out of our business.] Gerald said, pulling the Enchanter’s attention back from the colorful chaos outside. The man leaned forward and interlocked his fingers in a very business-like manner.

[So… Where were we?]

Bram, Lee’s personal guard and friend, ran as fast as he could across the uneven terrain of the Lower Plane, barely able to keep himself upright as the gravel shifted beneath his feet. He had to resort to energy manipulation, using the little bit of Qi he had just to run a tad faster.

He stopped a good distance away from the grand hall, just enough to witness its collapse. The magnificent building, constructed with much effort on their part due to the inferior quality of materials they had on hand, was reduced to rubble in mere moments. One stray blast of energy was all it took to destroy their home despite it having many Formations protecting it.

However, that was not something unexpected. Since Lee became the leader by killing the previous boss, such a battle was expected to happen sooner or later. Yet, with Lee being such a tough opponent, nobody stepped up to the task, so the grand hall remained.

That was, until a bunch of hot-headed fools rushed straight in, demanding justice for the loss of face or some other similarly trivial slight they experienced.

The collapse did nothing to slow down the battle raging inside. As the dust was blown away, Bram was able to see the fighters engaged in mortal combat, counting 25 in total.

At first, he thought he was seeing things, yet as things became clear, he realized there really were twelve versions of the same person going against the enemy. And despite apparently slowly losing ground, the doppelgangers smiled while the other Cultivators frowned.

The thing was also that the copies were fighting bare-handed and with no gear, while the others were decked out in treasures and relics, burning copious amounts of energy just to keep going. As another clone died, it turned into a white cloud and spread among the remaining eleven.

With the numerical advantage even greater than before, Bram at first thought the battle would shift even more in the aggressor’s favor, yet it was just the opposite. The clones suddenly gained ground, pushing back and fighting even harder. With a slip of concentration on one human’s part, his head was immediately chopped off by a well-placed knife hand, finding the tiniest gap in the armor to exploit.

“Woah!” Bram gasped, marveling at the precision with which the high-level battles were fought. The body of the beheaded Cultivator, still warm and spraying blood, somehow found its way to him, blasted there by random explosions.

That’s when he got a better look at the damage, and his blood ran cold.

There was no clean cut, no accurately exploited weakness in the armor. The metal plates were mangled, and torn, as if bitten through by a rabid animal. That’s when Bram realized that all he was seeing, was nothing but a sham.

The identical-looking figures had more than enough power to simply tear through their opponents and end the fight in an instant, yet for some reason they chose not to, instead putting up a show and playing with the emotions of the dead men.

Another clone died unexpectedly and the fight became harder yet again. Soon after, another man fell from the sky, dead, his head blasted to pieces by a seemingly accidental kick. The helmet he wore offered no protection whatsoever, giving even more validity to Bram’s theory.

For them, it was a game. With each combatant lost, the clones began fighting harder while still keeping power in reserve, giving the enemy an illusion of…

Hope?

That’s what it had to be. Bram refused to believe it was anything else but a sadistic game that gave just enough hope to keep going and not surrender. The clones were always less than the others, fooling them that they had the chance to win. They didn’t.

Whenever the balance shifted too much, another human had to die to bring it back. Realistically that made no sense. The side with the advantage would just keep pushing until they won. Yet somehow the stronger side was kept in check by a very carefully manipulated balance. And the mastermind…

Nearly having his eyes jump out of their sockets after noticing that detail, Bram did a double take to confirm he was not dreaming. There, in the middle of all that chaos, was a bubble of safety sat the Enchanter, and chatting merrily with him, was….

“Ah. I see.”

Another clone died, with another human following soon after.

Lee’s words at first confused him, but then he understood. The man himself, Gerald Fireborn, was so beyond in ability and power, that a handful of his conjurations could take down their best fighters without breaking a sweat.

The greatest battle of his life was happening right beside him, and meanwhile, the man himself didn’t even care. He did what he wanted, whenever he wanted, and there was nobody who could stop him. That… was called Freedom.

Freedom, something seemingly unattainable, something Bram searched for his entire life, never to find even a trace… And yet, when he was at his lowest, in a realm forgotten by gods, at the very bottom layer of hell, in the Lower Plane, exhausted and dispirited, he found it.

He found the man who knew Freedom, a man who he would willingly call Master.