LIGHTNOVELONLINE 131. Hundreds of them
“That… was… just like I remembered it,” Kite groaned as he eventually managed to force his eyes open. Outwardly, he was fine and in peak condition, but on some deep, unseen level he had felt every bit the anvil to the gate’s hammer. Each pulse of energy had sent dull pain through all of his soul, Kite feeling like he had been about to burst apart with every strike. But like the last time, he had endured, preparations and higher rank aiding greatly.
As his bleary eyes took in the surroundings, little had changed. The platform was still surrounded by the white haze, and Kite was now left alone in the eerie remnants of the astral space that the gate had suborned for so long. If he remembered correctly, it would soon gradually fade away in the way that the temporary space had always been meant to.
But one thing had changed, something which immediately drew Kite’s attention. Straight ahead of him on the dais where the officiator’s orb had once rested, now lay a shifting sphere of what looked like liquid metal. It had the same pale color and otherworldly look like the gate itself, and Kite’s magical senses could feel budding power and potential from the orb.
“Is… this my reward?” he asked aloud to no one in particular. Glint flew out from her bottle, joining him as he gingerly walked up to the pedestal to inspect the object. Once he focused, he could indeed feel the echoes of his chosen concepts and treasures from within, as well as something else; a connection. It was as if the orb just waited for a conduit to continue some kind of process integral to its very existence. And Kite had an inkling that he was involved in said process.
He carefully reached out a hand, and as he drew near, his mind gradually started picking up more from the thing; a sense of permanence. If Kite went through with whatever process it offered, there would be no turning back. But with that sense also came part of the instinctual knowledge of what the rippling orb offered. And as Kite started processing that knowledge, his eyes widened in marvel.
“This… Now this is not what I expected,” he said, still a bit stunned. But he had sensed it correctly; the potential. Deviously simple at a glance yet staggering in what it could mean if one mastered it.
“Fortune, you have my thanks. And you too, officiator Thirty-three,” he murmured, bracing himself. “I will not forsake this opportunity.”
With a clear mental assent, Kite thrust his hand towards the orb, the questing connection of the item finally finding what it was searching for. And just a moment after, a different kind of pain started anew.
“Mistress! Mistress!”
The first instinct Pristine Flower of Eternal Youth, mistress of the Pristine family, felt when she heard the banging on her door was to use her aura to let it be thoroughly known what she thought of being awoken in the dead of night. But her rational thoughts caught up to her a moment later as her mind processed what might cause such a thing to even occur. And the words which followed confirmed it.
“The gate! It's activating!”
Not wanting to waste time, mistress Pristine wove illusions around her, creating clothes and giving her every impression of having been awake and ready all this time. Her visage essence lent itself very well to the task, after all.
Only a minute after being woken up she appeared at the gates leading to the inner garden. Ivory, her current retainer, was already waiting for her. The inner disciple of the Wandering Wind sect looked a bit hesitant, as if in thought, and mistress Pristine snapped her fingers to get his attention.
“Retainer, open the door!”
Ivory’s gaze did linger on her a while longer, but he eventually did as asked. As the doors swung open, the darkness of night was bathed in light. They had all seen it pulse upward at regular intervals, gathering strength only to swiftly dim again as if discharging the gathered power. And as they stepped into the garden, mistress Pristine couldn’t help but to be impressed.
She had never seen anything exude such a feeling of power while simultaneously not even registering to her magical senses. It was as if the power itself melded with the world around it, forming a unified whole. The light was a contradiction as well, as its pale glow should be blinding in its strength yet remained pleasant to the eyes even to the bronze-ranked guards peeking in from the garden gates.
Mistress Pristine turned back to them, barking a command.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Activate the array!”
The two women eventually hurried to obey, rushing into the garden, where a ring of newly laid stones encircled the gate where it hovered. One of the guards used a keystone and a stack of spirit coins to activate the containment array, and a slightly shimmering gold barrier shaped like a half-dome sprung up around the jade-sky gate, whose glow had started up again.
“Whoever is inside will not find me unprepared,” mistress Pristine thought, her jaw clenched.
When the gate had deposited remains of earlier trial-takers, there had been no glow such as this. Which most likely meant that whoever was inside had actually managed to pass the challenge. This would have a lot of consequences for the Pristine family, reaching both near and far into the future. And the family meant to extract ample compensation from whomever had dared to break into their compound and circumvent their stewardship, even self-imposed as it was.
Then, the waiting began. It was well past midnight, the only light being the pulsing gate and the glow stones along the garden walls. Shadows played across the darkened gardens, and mistress Pristine couldn’t help but feel as if myriad eyes were watching her from every nook and cranny.
“The tension must be getting to me,” she thought, before turning as she felt another aura enter the garden. “It took you long enough, uncle,” she called to the other silver-ranker who came walking in while still working on tying his robes shut. Like all silver-rankers, he was muscular and well built, his dark hair combed back and impressive mustache well oiled.
“My apologies, mistress,” the older man said unrepentantly. “There are certain activities which a man of culture must not let anyone interrupt. Besides, I still look to have made it in time!”
The mistress of the house just rolled her eyes, not deigning to rebuke the man for his escapades. Not when the mystery of their saboteur was soon to be unraveled at last. And besides, having another silver-ranker present would do well for their position in the interrogation which would follow.
Pristine Show of Prowess was a core-user like herself, and was, no matter what his name implied, not a fighter. At least not an experienced one. But it was still one other to their ranks.
“So, time to teach someone a lesson in provoking the Pristine family,” uncle Prowess said with a cocky grin as he conjured a pair of flaming gauntlets before crossing his arms; all for intimidation-factor of course. “Who do you think it is?”
“We still have no clue,” she answered him, looking back to the gate. “But it is safe to assume that it will be a silver-ranker. I can see no one else capable of infiltrating our defenses, and a gold would not have seen the need to. Besides, we know that the space within is too weak to create a gold-ranked challenge.”
“It has been a long time since my fists got to deliver some punishment,” uncle Prowess grinned, and mistress Pristine had to keep very hard from rolling her eyes at the boast.
“We have the barrier in place, uncle,” she replied instead. “Just stand back and let me do the talking. That goes for both of you, retainer. I will-”
While she spoke, the gate had charged up another of its bursts of light, which abruptly dimmed like those that came before. But this time, no new glow was accumulated. The gate was silent, and still.
“Be prepared,” mistress Pristine ordered, adjusting her illusory clothes to include some tasteful additions of armor. The tense wait continued for one minute, then two. Then ten. And twenty.
Silver-rankers could be very patient, their ascended spirits adaptable. But when half an hour had passed and one of the guards was forced to feed the array another stack of spirit coins, the silence started to really grate on their nerves. A servant snuck in to deliver refreshments to her uncle, and the wind started to pick up slightly.
“What is taking so long?” mistress Pristine thought, not for the first time. “Have we been mistaken?”
But a minute later, something finally happened, Merchant be praised. One moment, there was nothing. And the next, a young man stepped out of the gate. There was no ripple or anything else heralding his arrival. He just walked out as if from nothing, stopping to take in the barrier that surrounded him and the group of three silver-rankers and five bronze-ranked guards waiting for him.
Mistress Pristine took in his appearance and noted that he must be an adventurer. He wore a motley mix of equipment with his pale teal armor, a strange off-white cloak and a wide-brimmed conical hat which was hanging against his back in its straps. He was young, not more than a few years above twenty, blue eyes flecked with gold taking in the people awaiting him. The oddest thing about his features were the tattoos that stood out against his skin, seeming to emerge from somewhere beneath his armor. Several lines of a kind of weird gray traveled up the young man’s throat, two of them tracing his jawline before rounding the rest of his face and coming together in the middle of his forehead. The rest seemed to converge somewhere behind his head.
“Those markings sure stand out,” mistress Pristine thought, but quickly moved on from the tattoos and to the most important part, which brought both great relief and gave rise to a lot of new questions; the young man was bronze rank. The very peak of bronze, but bronze nonetheless.
It was also the bronze-ranker that was the first to speak, although it was more a murmur which mistress Pristine would not have caught if not for her silver-ranked senses.
“I’m not sure if the heavens are this fickle, or if I am destined to always have a welcoming-committee? Fortune, I will do my utmost to weather this trial as well.”
Uncle Prowess seemed to have heard him as well, lashing out with his aura like a whip towards the young man as he snapped; “Silence, bronze. You stand before Pristine Flower of Eternal Youth, mistress of the Pristine family, and you will speak when asked a question. Answering each and every one will only be the first of many, many steps you will have to undertake to even begin to atone for your crimes.”
The silver-rankers were surprised when the young man didn’t seem overly affected by the lashing aura. His own was a strange contrast; like a bastion which seemed to erode the sharp edges of the world around it.
“I greet the mistress of the Pristine family,” the young man responded, giving a polite bow, albeit one that was the bare minimum of propriety. This further angered uncle Prowess, but the man continued. “However, I fail to see any crimes which I might have committed. Passing through your complex was necessary in order to access the queen’s trial, after all. A trial which her decree has declared open to any and all who bear her token.”
“Alas if just anyone would be worthy of the queen’s gifts, we would gladly relinquish our charge,” mistress Pristine said, stepping in before her uncle’s rage might derail the conversation. Besides, it was best to offer a contrast to the furious man with the burning gauntlets, so she adjusted her illusions to thoroughly convey her stoic acceptance and righteous concern.
“But such is not the world, and we have taken it upon ourselves to properly judge those seeking her legacy. A charge which you seemed to have ignored, trampling all over our family’s honor. While it pains me, I agree with my uncle’s words; the karma between us is well and truly unbalanced by your actions.”
“Believe me when I say that I have it on very good authority that the Queen of Jade and Sky’s servitors would be most displeased with your actions here,” the man countered, showing no deference. “Have you not heard what happened to the Victorious Sunset sect when its members interfered?”
“Bah, baseless rumors. No truly civilized person would take heed of prattle from a backwater such as the Autumn lands,” uncle Prowess snorted.
“While we will need to go to great lengths to determine your reparations, we will begin with questions,” mistress Pristine said, taking back the reins of the conversation. “And the first one is simple; who is your sponsor? Which of the families aim to undercut us through such low and dishonorable means?”
“While I am quite sure that you would wish for answers to your questions, mistress, I see little reason to entertain you. No matter what reasons you spout, I am well within my rights to be here. And me just stepping back out through this gate should give you a hint about me being worthy or not.”
Inwardly, mistress Pristine frowned at the discourtesy, but even more at the pensive look on retainer Ivory’s face. Then, her uncle spoke again, the lack of respect too much to let slide.
“You are nothing but invading vermin, bronze,” he shouted, putting extra emphasis on the rank. “Had this barrier not been between us, I would have struck you down for your insolence here and now.”
“But as things are-” mistress Pristine interjected, “- this interloper will stay here until we are satisfied with the answers he is giving us. Only then will we move on to the further reparations needed-”
“I believe that you are once again mistaken, mistress,” the man said politely, albeit with a bit of steel in his voice. He even dared to interrupt her. “This barrier will not be up for long, of that we can be sure.”
“Young man, if you believe that a mere bronze-ranker can hope to break through our formations, I will ask you to reconsider-”
“And yet I am sure,” the adventurer interrupted again. Uncle Prowess felt like he was about to explode into another outburst, and mistress Pristine had to admit that the defiance was proving more and more annoying. “But as we seem to be at a diplomatic impasse, let us see if you are as devout to the queen’s decrees as you seem to falsely proclaim.”
“You dare-”
“I, Kite Flown in on Winds of Fortune, also known as Pathbreaker, challenge any one of you to a clash of paths. When I defeat your chosen, you will let me leave in peace and not hinder my departure in any way.”
His statement was met with stunned silence at first, none present seeming to believe their ears as the bronze-ranker issued such an open challenge in the face of three silver-rankers. Mistress Pristine did not like the pensive look on retainer Ivory’s face, and was just about to speak when her uncle once more couldn’t hold back.
“The squeals of a caged rat fall only on deaf ears, boy! Your challenge means nothing when you are already our prisoner!”
The young man did not answer, but his slight smile had mistress Pristine suspect that he knew something. She was just turning to send a glare towards her uncle when something indeed did happen.
Out of nowhere, the gate flashed again and a barrier sprang up around the circular construct. Then, it started to ascend. The motion began slowly and had not sped up overly much when it reached the barrier of the containment array, but the golden half-dome still burst like a frozen bubble of water hit by a sledgehammer.
The young man met her eyes through the dissipating shards of golden magic, not even looking behind him at the sudden development as he repeated; “My challenge stands. Will the Pristine family answer, or will you prove to be as honorless as everyone knows you to be at heart?”
All of the bronze-ranked guards around him seemed frozen in indecision, and mistress Pristine could feel the hesitation and doubt in their auras. “In hindsight, it would have been best to bring as few witnesses as possible,” she inwardly lamented, the guards present making some less palatable avenues unlikely to remain a secret. So instead she answered quickly in order to forestall further words from her uncle.
“You keep questioning our honor, bronze, but your words will soon enough be proven to be just those of a criminal venting his frustrations into the wind. As you challenged any one of us present, I will name our retainer here as our champion. You will face Whistling Ivory, inner disciple of the Wandering Winds sect. He is a man of honor, who has properly strived to prove his worthiness to challenge the queen’s gate rather than skulk in the shadows to steal opportunities that were not his to even touch.”
The young man looked to Ivory, who had taken a step forward, although the disciple’s bearing still remained neutral.
“I see,” the interloper noted. “Do you wish to stand as their champion?”
The question was directed towards Ivory, the fair-haired warrior meeting the bronze-ranker’s gaze.
“I am afraid that honor demands it,” he noted, doing little to hide his reluctance. Mistress Pristine would make sure to properly evaluate his conduct after this was all dealt with.
“That would indeed be very dedicated of you,” the bronze-ranker noted, his tone remaining polite. “But will you truly do so even after the gate, which I assume was your sole reason for remaining in the service of the Pristine family, has just returned to the queen?”
His comment once more had all three of the silver-rankers freeze, albeit for different reasons.
“Curse it, I lost the momentum,” mistress Pristine inwardly swore. She had hoped to continue driving the conversation forward to gloss over this fact for just a little bit longer by keeping it all centered around bronze-ranker. It had always been clear that Ivory would leave if the opportunity was truly lost, and she had hoped to extract a final ounce of service from the man, who seemed to have more honor than wits.
But as she saw the look on Ivory’s face, she knew that his use as her tool was now well and truly gone.
The younger man turned to her, keeping a neutral facade even if she could sense his elation and frustration warring inside him at the reminder.
“This man speaks the truth, mistress Pristine. With the completion of the challenge and the gate’s departure, our agreement is null and void. I regret to inform you that I will not stand as your champion.”
“I see…” she began, projecting as much mournful disappointment as she could through manipulating her exterior. “I would have hoped for you to at least show some modicum of benevolence in the face of this travesty, but I will assume that the Wandering Wind sect has simply sunken beneath such ideals as of late.”
It was a desperate gamble, and she knew it. And Fortune seemed to have decided to curse her that moment, because it failed.
“Mistress Pristine, I would suggest that your family would refrain from casting aspersions on my sect, or you will find me in line to challenge any of you soon enough,” Ivory spoke, calm voice seeming to hide a storm just beneath the surface.
“It speaks well of you, Whistling Ivory, that you retain your self-control even after being used like this,” the bronze-ranker said, giving a nod of respect to the inner disciple. “I will even offer you some reparations of my own in exchange for a favor. Remain here for the duration of the clash and escort me out of this compound. In exchange, I will tell you some things about the jade-sky gates which you might find helpful. Us trial-takers must look out for one another, no?”
Ivory regarded the younger man in silence for a while before giving his reply, with mistress Pristine using her aura to keep uncle Prowess from venting his growing frustrations then and there.
“Pathbreaker, was it?”
“That is what they named me, but Kite will do just fine.”
“An ambitious name,” Ivory noted. “I was surprised that you did not ask me to fight in your stead.”
“There should be no need. I believe that my path is up to the task.”
“I see,” Ivory said, nodding. “And you would truly share information about your trial?”
“I swear it, on my name and my path.”
“In that case, we have reached an accord. I will admit that I am curious to witness what will come of this.” Ivory’s smile had only grown during the exchange, and he nodded again to the pair of Pristine family silver-rankers.
“Mistress. Master. I will step aside now, as I believe that you still have a challenge to answer.”
With that, he took a simple step, gliding through the air to lean against a nearby tree with his arms crossed, eyes watching expectantly.
“My challenge stands, Pristines,” the bronze-ranker repeated. “Choose now, or let me leave in peace.”
Mistress Pristine pretended to consider his words while she was inwardly thinking a lot wider in scope.
“He is too confident. What does he know? He still hasn’t answered the question of backing either. Should we just let him go and cut our losses? But when this is found out, the loss to our reputation will be significant…”
However, her thoughts were interrupted as uncle Prowess took it upon himself to make that choice.
“Bah, I tire of this charade. We don’t need any outsiders to defend our own family’s honor!”
“Uncle-” mistress Pristine began, to no avail.
“I, Pristine Show of Prowess, accept your challenge. When I crush you, you will answer each and every one of our questions, as well as serve us as a retainer for the upcoming decade to make reparations for the damage you have caused us!”
“Quite the lopsided terms,” the bronze ranker noted, giving a rueful shake of his head. “But I will admit that I expected no less. I accept your terms.”
While speaking, the young man stepped forward. Uncle Prowess did as well, flaming gauntlets smoldering as his familiar manifested out from his body. It was a flaming lantern, which mistress Pristine knew would support her uncle through flaming projectiles as he fought.
“It has been too long since I got to pummel some insolent whelps into submission, boy,” the older man noted, thumping his fists together which sent sparks billowing outwards.
“I hope you will excuse me for not sharing the sentiment, master Pristine,” the bronze-ranker replied politely. “Because it has not been overly long since I fought something a lot more dangerous than you.”
“With the way you are courting death, boy, you will have to properly thank Fortune that we want you alive and talking,” uncle Prowess snarled. “Ivory, officiate this. And bear witness.”
“Fine,” the inner disciple nodded, his eyes not leaving the bronze-ranker. “Then by the grace of the queen, I declare this clash of paths as valid. The weaker party has issued the challenge and set the terms, and no aspersions will be cast upon the Pristine family to answer with someone of higher rank.
Pristine Show of Prowess, are you ready?”
“I am,” the older man said, the flames of his gauntlets intensifying.”
“Kite Flown in on Winds of Fortune, are you ready?”
“I am,” the younger man replied, adding; “And I will admit that I look forward to testing out the next step of my path.”
At his words, three dark vortices appeared around the bronze-ranker; one over each shoulder and the last above his head. And those weird tattoos of his started glowing as well, a glow which mistress Pristine realized that she recognized.
“It looks just like the glow emitted by the gate,” she realized, finally recognizing the oddness of the color; it was as if the otherworldly metal of the gate had been inlaid into the bronze-ranker’s skin. “Is that something caused by the gate? Or made by it? What will it do?”
While she tried making her predictions, a staff dropped into his hands as the bronze-ranker assumed a combat stance. The weapon was clearly not a caster’s implement, but one of combat even though its circular head and chiming rings gave it a ritualistic feel. It too seemed to be made of the same material as the gate itself.
“Begin!” Ivory called from the sidelines, a pulse of aura sending both combatants into motion.
“Oh! Ooooooooooooooooh! That’s new~!” one of Wander’s bodies squeaked excitedly where it sat on Braid’s shoulders outside the Pristine family’s compound.
“Well, out with it, Wander. When you called me over here, I thought that Kite was about to emerge and needed our help. Instead, I have been standing here for close to an hour and I know about as little as I did upon arriving,” the weaver complained.
“Oh, yes, sorry. I thought so too. That he would need our help right away, that is. But so far, he’s doing pretty great~.”
“I believe that I am due a little more information than that.”
“Well, you see, there was a containment array and three silver-rankers-”
“Three?!”
“Yes, yes, three. So I thought that there’d be a problem and went for you. But Kite went out and was all nice and polite while telling them that they were immoral hypocrites. They didn’t like that, but then he was all like ‘I challenge you, honorless scum!’, and they were like ‘You can’t do that, you’re stuck in our array’. But you should have seen it, Braid! Kite acted all calm and controlled and went ‘Am I really?’ after which the gate activated and just flew off, blasting their array to kingdom come!
So they got back to the thing with the challenge where the Pristine tried sending their little minion to fight Kite, some inner disciple of some wind sect~”
“The Wandering Wind sect?”
“Yes, that was the one. But Kite was like ‘The gate is gone, they don’t own you anymore. Help me instead and I will tell you its secrets while naked in bed~.’ “
“Kite did not say that.”
“Well, no, but he should have. They would be so cute together. But he did say the thing about the secrets, which the disciple agreed to, and now Kite is fighting another of the silvers in a clash for his very freedom~!”
Braid let the silence hang between them for a dozen seconds, clearly expecting something.
“What? That is what happened~,” Wander eventually squeaked.
“And you don’t think that Kite fighting a silver-ranker in single combat is a good reason for intervening?”
“Well, he seems to be totally thrashing that old man. Which is suuuuuper satisfying, as the guy seems to be a bit of a lecher. And besides, he is a core-user that seems to really like bragging about his combat skills more than actually practicing them. Kite, on the other hand… Kite really seems to have practiced. And you should see the new things he’s doing! But don’t worry Braid! I’m keeping an eye on it. Hundreds of them, in fact. I’ll tell you if something goes wrong~.”
“I… see…” Braid said, absorbing the statement. The pair remained silent for a while longer before he murmured; “Curses, now I want to see it too.”