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Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 66 - A Monarch’s pride - Part Two
🕑 Added 2023-06-13 05:52:30 +0000 UTCOgre Tyrant: Chapter 66 - A Monarch’s pride - Part Two
If there had been any lingering doubts in my mind regarding the Divine Patriarch’s character, they evaporated after I witnessed the Divine Patriarch plunge his sword through the heart of his own subordinate. I assumed that the man had been mind controlled by Sebet, but he had shown that Sebet was not in complete control, coming up short of attacking his master.
That distinction hadn’t mattered.
“Truly a shame,” the Divine Patriarch commented with utter indifference. “One can only hope the next generation will prove more diligent in their training.”
My grenade had left no visible signs of damage. However, the force of the blast appeared to have temporarily impaired the Divine Patriarch’s ability to react. Unfortunately, he had recovered faster than I could reach for a second grenade.
Turning to face the Divine Patriarch, Gric revealed the gruesome state of his armour. Drawing the sword out of his chest, a thin line of dark green ichor dribbled over bright crimson blood left behind by the Divine Patriarch’s second subordinate. “I will go first,” Gric announced boldly.
“An amateur-” The Divine Patriarch sneered, disappearing and then reappearing in front of Gric, “-is of no threat to me!”
Despite the Divine Patriarch’s speed, Gric had managed to raise his newly claimed sword to meet the attack.
However, the blade was shorn in two and the Patriarch’s sword bit deep into Gric’s chest.
Grinning in triumph, the Divine Patriarch was caught off guard as the bladed tip of Sebet’s whip cracked against the side of his helmet and released a deafening explosion.
Fragments of burnt leather scattered to the wind as the whip recoiled, now a full foot or shorter than it had been a moment before.
The Divine Patriarch was carried away by the blast like a leaf on the wind. However, he quickly reoriented himself in the air and landed gracefully upon his feet. However, this time, his composure was considerably more compromised.
The Divine Patriarch’s helmet was missing and his long silvery-white hair was hanging loose in a state of disarray. A thin line of blood ran down his right ear and trailed down his neck. Dabbing at the blood with his free hand, the Divine Patriarch stared down at his bloody fingers in shock.
Gric grunted with discomfort and stared down at the long gash in his torso. Releasing a pulse of mana, the severed bones and tissue began rapidly knitting themselves back together.
Briefly resting my hand on Gric’s shoulder, I sent a pulse of my mana into his armour.
Despite our armour having provided no meaningful protection thus far, the enemy seemed to require mana to bypass it. Which meant repairing our armour would continue forcing the Divine Patriarch to spend his mana.
“Y-YOU?!...” The Divine Patriarch sputtered in rage. His face had turned a dark blotchy red bordering on purple. He raised his sword and pointed it at Sebet, “YOU DARE TO MAKE ME BLEED?!” He shrieked angrily.
Sebet spun her whips lazily in response while establishing distance from Gric and me.
Gric cast down the broken sword and reached for his mace.
I stopped him and offered him my stone club instead.
Gric hesitated for a moment but snatched it and blurred into motion as the Divine Patriarch made his move.
The same as before, the Divine Patriarch disappeared and then reappeared on Sebet’s flank.
Sebet ducked low beneath the horizontal slash that was intended to behead her and rolled to the side.
With my gathered mana I bound the Divine Patriarch’s legs using the long grass. It wouldn’t be strong enough to do more than slow him down, but I lacked the reflexes required to become directly involved in high-speed combat without becoming a liability.
The Divine Patriarch’s blade came within inches of Sebet’s thigh but missed as the Divine Patriarch was forced to break himself free of the corded grass binding his shins.
Contrary to my expectations, instead of assisting Sebet, Gric remained at my side and maintained a position that kept himself between the Divine Patriarch and myself.
Since our original plan was to deplete the enemy’s mana reserves, I adjusted my expectations accordingly.
With a small degree of assistance on my part, Sebet dodged several more strikes by contorting her body in exotic and outright bizarre positions. Each time the Divine Patriarch’s sword was about to land, Sebet’s joints and spine would bend at otherwise impossible angles. However, Sebet’s unnaturally dexterous movements also had the unmistakable side effect of making her downright disturbing to look at.
“ENOUGH!” The Divine Patriarch roared with rage and his sword blurred into motion.
Sebet disappeared in a burst of shadow, reappearing at my side and collapsing to the ground as a multitude of deep gashes opened across her chest, abdomen and thighs.
<I...I’m fine...> Sebet coughed up a mouthful of blood and pieces of what may have been her lungs.
Seemingly winded by his attack, the Divine patriarch made no immediate signs of pursuing Sebet further despite his obvious anger.
Still wary about spending too much of my mana, I decided to take a small risk and attempted to bind the Divine Patriarch’s legs in earnest.
Despite his mild exhaustion, the Divine Patriarch was able to break himself free and leap clear before I managed to establish a meaningful hold. However, the moment he landed, the grass around him burst into life and began aggressively latching onto his body.
Sensing Gric was responsible, I funnelled my mana into the grass and left the direction of the Spell to him. While not nearly as adept as Hana, Gric’s degree of control far exceeded my own.
Thick gnarled roots erupted from the ground, seized the Divine Patriarch’s right leg and began to squeeze. All the while, cords of grass snaked under his armour and worked their way toward his throat.
The Divine Patriarch fought back with desperate ferocity, mulching the roots and grass almost as fast as Gric could replenish their ranks and bring them to bear. However, it wasn’t good enough. After freeing his trapped leg, the Divine Patriarch leapt up into the sky.
Instead of falling, he hovered.
A large sword had appeared from nowhere and materialised beneath his feet, immediately arresting his fall. Balanced atop the sword as if it were a skateboard, the Divine Patriarch glared down at us in fury. “YOU HAVE NO HONOUR! YOU HAVE NOTHING BUT VAGABONDS AND CHEAP TRICKS!!!”
Sebet groaned and shakily got to her feet.
Very nearly, but somehow not quite naked, her front was caked with fresh blood. However, just like her armour, Sebet’s wounds were gone.
“TO WASTE MEDICINE ON SUCH WEAKLINGS?! HAVE YOU NO PRIDE AS A MONARCH?!” The Divine Patriarch screeched, the blade of the sword in his right hand shaking violently with each syllable. With a flick of his left wrist, Several long iron stakes materialised around him and then drove themselves into the ground below to form a crude circle.
Immediately, I felt my connection to the mana fueling the Plant Growth Spell within its confines disappear.
<It’s some sort of defensive magic item.> Gric warned a fraction of a second later.
With a second flick of his wrist, a stack of wooden cards appeared in the Divine Patriarch’s hand and then raced outward before circling the inner perimeter formed by the iron rods.
The wooden cards bore large symbols representing characters from what I was only vaguely confident belonged to one of the Chinese languages. Beyond identifying the characters as being potentially Chinese, I had no idea what they represented.
<Shield.> Gric and Sebet answered in unison.
<The two sets of items will block all attacks.> Gric elaborated with considerable irritation.
<He hoarded everything for himself.> Sebet added while eyeing the headless corpse at Gric’s feet hungrily.
Forcing down my disgust, I motioned for her to proceed.
Sebet wasted no time in tearing off the armour with her claws and helping herself to low-hanging fruit.
Just because she had reversed her injuries with the Sculpt Flesh Spell didn’t mean she had recovered her missing HP. Given our reserve food supplies were limited, and Sebet had left nothing for A Surgeon to work with, pseudo-cannibalism was not something I was too proud to deny her. If only because the subject was our enemy and we had an immediate need.
The Divine Patriarch stared down at us in silent horror, an unstoppered gourd mere inches from his lips. “Barbarians...Savages...”
If only he knew...
<Where are his items coming from?> I asked, deeply concerned that the Divine Patriarch was in the process of initiating his recovery.
I was keenly aware that access to my Dimensional Plane was temporarily cut off, limiting us to the items we had brought with us.
There was the possibility that he had a Class Ability, like Toofy’s Scavenger Class, that provided a personal pocket dimension for storing items. However, it didn’t fit the extreme combat focus of his Class.
Gric was just as unsettled as I was. <It’s a Dimensional Storage Ring.> He explained irritably after a few moments, providing memories from the Divine Patriarch’s now-deceased subordinates that matched the actions the Divine Patriarch had taken thus far. <It has limited space, but he has filled it with consumable healing and recovery items...>
Well, fuck...
Judging by how readily the Divine Patriarch had established his defences, I had to assume he could lower them just as quickly. Which meant exposing my shoulder so I could receive medical care would be a mistake.
The food I had consumed before accepting the challenge was being put to work healing my shoulder, but I had no true way of knowing if I had taken meaningful damage. The attack itself had only dealt four HP in damage. However, HP and damage only reflected a relative value of lost life force, not damage to tendons or the nervous system.
Rolling my shoulder experimentally, I was reasonably confident that it was just a flesh wound but decided to dip into my supply of rations just in case.
One of the benefits of maintaining a human form was the increased satiety rate from eating relatively small amounts of food. Of course, I would have almost certainly taken less damage in my true form.
As the Divine Patriarch huffed, snorted, gulped and guzzled his way through more than a dozen small containers and gourds contents, his manic state began to ebb.
<I believe it is time we considered using Drain Life.> Sebet suggested earnestly while licking her fingers clean.
<I agree.> Gric replied after only a couple of moments' consideration. <The enemy has demonstrated no meaningful resistance to Spells, and drawing out the battle presents too many risks.>
As much as I loathed the Spell, I had to admit that they had a point. Beyond my personal feelings, there was no justifiable reason not to use the Drain Life Spell.
Especially since I had already given Sebet the green light to commit cannibalism.
<Fine.> I agreed, doing my best to push down the mounting disappointment I felt toward myself. <The sooner we are done here, the sooner we can return home...>
“To think that a barbarian would possess such strength...” The Divine Patriarch drawled spitefully. “To face one such as I and force me into such dire straits...Hrmf, hahahahaha!” His calm facade shattered and revealed a desperately cruel expression of amusement and contempt. “Except, you are not strong at all! It is only through the trickery of your lapdogs and the sheer incompetence of my servants that we arrived at this moment! You are nothing! And now I will prove it before the heavens!”
<Danger!> Gric and Sebet warned in unison
Acting on instinct, I pushed my mana into forming the Barrier Spell.
The Divine patriarch raised his sword toward the empty night sky. “STORM OF A THOUSAND SWORDS!!!”
Shrieking howls filled the night air as hundreds of swords materialised in the sky and began pelting the ground. Upon striking the ground, the swords exploded and sent loose dirt and debris flying in all directions.
My Barrier had barely expanded enough to cover my head before three swords crashed into its surface. After making contact with my Barrier, the swords began to rapidly dissolve as if they had been immersed in a powerful acid. However, they still maintained a considerable degree of their initial momentum and despite losing their cutting edge were still capable of landing heavy hits against my armour.
The strikes of the corroded blades left shallow scratches in my armour but failed to deal any meaningful damage.
Protected by my expanding Barrier, Gric tanked the hits with stoic determination while Sebet batted away any approaching swords with the broken sword of one of the Divine Patriarch’s subordinates.
Visibility rapidly deteriorated as the sustained barrage destroyed the surrounding area. However, the Divine patriarch’s distinctive mana signature and his extreme rate of expenditure made his position stand out like a beacon.
It was impossible to tell who had the larger reserve of mana, but at the rate, the Divine Patriarch was expanding his mana, I was confident that my Barrier would outlast his assault.
As my mana dropped below one-third, the rain of swords abruptly ended.
“You survived? Tch!” The Divine Patriarch called out with evident aggravation and disappointment.
A trio of opaque sapphire crescents streaked out of the debris field and plunged through the outermost limits of my Barrier. Just like the swords, each inch travelled through the Barrier stripped away the edge of their form until nothing was left.
Despite the risks, I was forced to dismiss the Barrier a short while afterwards to avoid depleting my mana reserves outright.
<He is consuming more potions.> Gric warned, still determinedly staring at the Divine Patriarch through the haze of debris.
<We can’t keep fighting on the defensive...> Even if I increased my mana regeneration by sacrificing HP, it wouldn’t be enough to cover even half of the Barrier’s upkeep cost. <We need to destroy his defences!>
<I will break the enemy Barriers.> Gric announced and tightened his grip on the large stone club.
<We all will.> I decided.
With the overwhelming number of armour-piercing attacks the enemy was throwing our way, I had decided that my true form would be the safer choice after all.
***** Chen ~ Fields of despair *****
Chen inhaled the essence of yet another rare and infuriatingly expensive medicinal pill to accelerate the recovery of his Chi. He fought hard to suppress the disruption that would be caused by his anger. However, it became increasingly difficult as the running tally of expended treasures continued to grow.
The Western Barbarian and his servants should have been dead already, or at the very least, begging for his mercy. However, despite suffering several fatal blows and receiving two of Chen’s most powerful Techniques, none of them died.
Although their exact fate remained unknown, Chen could still sense faint traces of their unrefined Chi.
Why had the Tyrant been placed so low in the rankings?!
Despite the Tyrant himself having contributed little to the engagement thus far, Chen was forced to admit that his subordinates were deceptively capable. If they were not so old and hadn’t caused him immense frustration, Chen might have considered offering them a chance to serve him.
But that only made the Tyrant’s ranking all the more strange. Controlling subordinates was a tricky business, requiring equal parts strength and guile to keep them in line. Hardly a decade would go by without some group or other attempting to plot Chen’s replacement or the diminishment of his Divine status.
Even his enemies had similar problems, most often originating from their offspring. It was incredibly common for those much higher in the rankings to suddenly fall as the result of an attempted coup. The requisite purges and executions to instil order could cause even an unsuccessful but popularist coup to severely deplete a Monarch’s score and overall ranking.
The worst instances always seemed to come from within the Monarchs’ own families. This was one of the reasons why Chen guarded his best techniques so zealously from his children. Their very talent was a threat, and so long as Chen sought immortality and godhood, he would never allow them to progress to a stage where he could be threatened by them.
Of course, this presented issues when rival Monarchs opted for battles between elite subordinates. While Chen faced minimal resistance and risk of rebellion from within, it left him lacking truly powerful subordinates to support him in battle. And as the Western barbarians had demonstrated, capable subordinates could more than compensate for a lacking Monarch.
Lifting yet another medicinal pill toward his mouth, Chen paused. He had felt something, a disturbance in the Westerners’ Chi.
Most likely preparing some form of primitive Technique to attempt piercing the Defensive Arrays, Chen felt inclined to ignore them and continue recovering his Chi. But there was a part of him that had begun to doubt.
Techniques that had served Chen for the better part of half a century had failed. Not because they had been blocked through extreme skill, but because their effects and damage had been countered and even outright reversed.
Chen had felt certain that the woman had to be some kind of monster, or perhaps an Evil Spirit. And yet, her true form had been laid bare by his blade. She was human.
She was human but restored her physical form without the need for Rituals, Techniques or the circulation of Chi!
The other servant had been stabbed straight through the heart and laughed as he tore Wang Jun’s head off his shoulders. He had even removed the blade and taunted Chen with it, flaunting his indestructibility.
Chen felt an entirely unfamiliar shiver of fear run down his spine as an unwanted and utterly unpleasant thought made itself known in his mind.
What if they were Demonic Cultivators? Or worse, Demons?
Chen recalled the unnatural movements of the female servant, the destructive Technique she had landed against the side of his head, and her blatant cannibalism...
“My cultivation...” Chen couldn’t help but recall the rumours of Demons and Demonic Cultivators stalking the higher rankings. By stealing the Chi and accumulated cultivation of others, they grew in strength far faster than those on the righteous path. “Heavens protect me...” Chen whispered and directed his flying sword to increase its elevation.
Forfeiting was out of the question, and petitioning for surrender was unlikely to accomplish anything besides damaging his pride. Which left Chen with no other option than to fight.
“I suppose I have no choice...” With a flick of his wrist, Chen returned the medicinal pill to his storage ring and withdrew a half-foot-thick stack of talismans. Originally plundered from a temple during his youth, the captured priests had sworn that the talismans held the power to Banish and bind Evil Spirits.
The powers of Demonic Cultivators were based heavily upon Demonic influences. So even if the talismans didn’t purge their corrupted Chi outright, the Demonic Cultivators would be crippled. And if they truly were Demons in disguise, the talismans should Banish or Imprison them outright.
Of course, there was one major problem. The Defensive Arrays were attuned to Chen and his Chi. The foreign Chi in the talismans would not function unless they were physically removed from the Defensive Arrays area of influence. This meant Chen would have to leave the safety of the Defensive Arrays to activate the talismans.
Shamed by his fear, Chen clenched his jaw tight in anger. He was not a coward and refused to allow such thoughts to persist.
Directing his flying sword forward, Chen rose from his meditation stance and prepared himself for battle.
True to Chen’s expectations, the enemy began moving the moment he left the Defensive Arrays. However, they were not so reckless as to attack him while he remained so close to a guaranteed position of retreat and safety.
With no small measure of reluctance, Chen decided to leave the Defensive Arrays behind and lure the enemy into a trap.
Channelling a burst of Chi into his flying sword, Chen sped north for a full minute before dismounting on a barren patch of earth and returning his flying sword to his storage ring. Pulsing another burst of Chi into the stack of talismans, he was relieved to confirm that they were not just useless slips of paper.
The holy energies ever so faintly radiating from the talismans were both a comfort and a cause for concern. If the enemy was able to detect the heavenly energies, there was a real possibility that they would not fall for his trap. So, Chen tried to mask the energy within the talismans with his own.
Announcing his presence by expending Chi was usually reserved as an intimidation tactic against those significantly weaker than himself. Under other circumstances, Chen enjoyed the heady rush of superiority that came with proclaiming his dominance.
But this was different.
If Chen was stronger, and wasn’t certain that he was, the enemy had demonstrated enough collective strength to prove they were a genuine threat.
Sensing the approach of the enemy, Chen purged the unnecessary thoughts from his mind. The slightest hesitation or delay could prove to be the determining factor, and Chen refused to have his immortal legacy terminated by his incompetence.
The now scantily clad woman was the first to exit the clouds of debris, and as Chen had feared, she showed no signs of having taken any permanent damage.
Pale skin shining silver in the moonlight and long flowing hair of burnished gold trailing in her wake, Chen would have mistaken her for a fallen goddess if he had not witnessed aspects of her true nature.
She moved with unnaturally perfect grace and absolute surety, devouring the distance between them with voracious zeal. All the while wearing a demented and impossibly wide grin on her otherwise beautifully fine-featured face.
The second servant was right behind her. His movements were less graceful but radiated immense strength and power as he launched himself forward with each stride.
There was no sign of the Tyrant, but Chen could vaguely sense his presence and was relieved to find that he was approaching at a considerably slower pace.
This suited Chen just fine. The more time he had to debilitate or eliminate the Tyrant’s subordinates, the more prepared Chen would be to face the Tyrant himself.
As he had expected, the Tyrant’s subordinates parted ways and changed their approach to flank Chen from opposite sides. If he was in their place, Chen would have likely done the same.
As they drew closer still, Chen felt a fresh rush of fear as he sensed the foul Chi emanating from their extended claws.
His intuition had been vindicated.
Chen was now certain they were channelling Demonic Energy.
Bracing himself, Chen gathered his Chi and waited for his moment to strike.
Somewhat predictably, the pair of Demonic Cultivators activated their advanced footwork Techniques to close the remaining distance and shift to a new flank.
Chen had seen them use the Technique multiple times already and had known they would use it.
Leaping backward, Chen raised the talismans and filled them with as much Chi as they could hold. He thrust the now glowing talismans toward the unsuspecting enemy.
One by one and in blurring succession, the talismans took flight and raced toward their respective targets.
Seemingly stunned by the divine energies within the talismans, the Demonic Energy users could do nothing as the talismans began forcibly attaching themselves to their bodies.
“SEAL!!!” Chen roared with equal parts anxiety and triumph.
For a brief moment, nothing happened.
Then, without warning, the woman released a deafening scream of rage and anguish. Beneath the surface of the talismans, her flesh and bones twisted and flowed like water as they took on a new form.
Her true form.
“A Demon!” Chen hissed with fear and took a half step back before catching himself. Despite suspecting her true identity, Chen had not expected, nor desired, to be proven right.
Although the exact nature of her transformation was obstructed by the blinding golden light of the talismans, Chen had no problems making out the pair of horns adorning her head.
To Chen’s immense relief, her companion appeared to be human. Or, at least, as human as a Demonic Cultivator could be.
Which made Chen all the more confused when both of them disappeared.
“They were both Banished?” Chen muttered with uncertainty. He looked down at the remaining talismans in his hand. So far as he had been able to tell, the Demon had taken just as many talismans as the Demonic Cultivator, which struck him as being wrong somehow.
Unless...
Unless the second subordinate had just as much Demonic Energy as the Demon?
Chen now regretted having executed the priests of the temple. If he had imprisoned them rather than executed them for their lack of respect, he would have been able to learn more about the talismans upon his return. Burning down the temple out of spite now left a bitter taste in his mouth as well. Chen may not be able to read the language the sacred texts and scrolls were written in, but he had a literal horde of servants who facilitated such tasks on his behalf.
Sensing the approach of the Tyrant, Chen stood ready with the remaining talismans.
As prepared as he had believed himself to be, Chen felt a wave of unimaginable terror as the Tyrant stepped out from the debris cloud and into the moonlight.
Easily four times Chen’s size, he could feel every one of the Tyrant’s ponderous footsteps as the Tyrant stalked toward him with a giant mace in hand.
A terrifying thought crept into Chen’s mind.
What if the Tyrant had fed upon his subjects until only he and his most devoted servants remained?...
It would explain how his servants were so powerful and his associated score had been declared so low...After all, one’s subjects couldn’t contribute toward the count if they were dead...
The Tyrant broke into a lurching run, his feral snarls echoing from his helmet with every breath.
It took everything Chen had to hold his ground. Of all the monsters he had fought, none of them had come close to the Tyrant’s sheer size and bulk.
He knew that other Monarchs made fantastical claims of being True Dragons and Great Serpents, but those claims had always been proven false when Chen faced those Monarchs in person. The largest Monarch he had ever encountered had been an Oni bandit king from Rìběn folklore. But even he had only been a little over twice Chen’s height.
Chen fought hard not to flinch as the Tyrant lifted his giant mace in preparation to strike.
The distance between them was being swallowed up with increasing speed. However, unlike his servants, the Tyrant appeared committed to making his final approach without the use of a movement Technique.
Not that Chen could risk assuming that the Tyrant didn't have one.
Chen’s prudence was validated less than a second later as the Tyrant disappeared only to reappear behind Chen and blanket him in his shadow.
Reacting as fast as he was able, Chen leapt out of the path of the Tyrant’s attack while flooding the talismans with mana and directing them toward the Tyrant.
Dodging the attack with feet to spare, Chen’s relief turned to shock and confusion as the mace struck the ground and the world erupted around him.
Dazed, ears ringing, and unable to breathe, Chen stared up at the sky in confusion. Unable to account for how he had gotten there.
Reaching for his face with a numb trembling hand, Chen recoiled as he discovered the tangled mess of his dislocated and broken fingers. In a panic, he lifted his other arm and was relieved to find that he was still holding his sword.
Striking his chest with his left forearm, Chen silently whimpered as pain jolted through his chest and up his arm and into his mangled fingers.
Rolling onto his side, Chen spat up a mouthful of blood and desperately gasped for air.
After forcing the fresh oxygen into his lungs, clarity and awareness came crashing back into the forefront of his mind.
The Tyrant!
Ignoring the pain, Chen forced himself up onto his elbows and frantically searched the darkness for signs of movement. Finding himself alone, he hurriedly withdrew the highest-grade Medicinal Pill from his Greater Storage Ring. Too desperate to waste time on ceremony and appearances, Chen stuffed the pill into his mouth and used the built-up bloody saliva in his mouth to force the pill down his throat.
The miraculous healing effects of the pill took root almost immediately and began repairing Wang Chen’s broken body while also restoring a portion of his depleted Chi.
As the feeling began to return and the pain receded, Chen forced himself to his feet and began slowly limping back toward the Defensive Arrays.
Travelling atop his flying sword would have been faster, but Chen’s internal injuries left him temporarily incapable of channelling Chi to any meaningful degree. And without his Chi, the sword was little better than a sharp heavy slab of steel.
However, it was to Chen’s immense relief that his internal damage appeared to be the result of purely physical trauma and not the parasitic predation of Demonic Energy. While both were no doubt equally debilitating, Chen had the good fortune of possessing medicines that could reverse mundane sources of damage.
With each step, Chen regained a portion of his strength and was able to breathe ever so slightly deeper without coughing up blood.
Fuelled by powerful Chi, the Defensive Arrays stood out like beacons in the darkness. Allowing Chen to retreat with relative confidence despite the burst blood vessels impairing his eyesight. All the same, crossing the open ground of the plains filled Chen with a fear he had not experienced since the earliest years of his infancy.
Although Chen had not seen him, he knew the Tyrant was out there.
The airborne dust and debris made it impossible to see much further than an arms-length in any direction, but Chen knew that it was also concealing him from the predatory gaze of the Tyrant.
Sensing vibrations through the ground, Chen fought back against the urge to panic and stood deathly still.
Scanning his surroundings, Chen couldn’t see any more than he had a few moments before.
Holding his breath, Chen slowly continued creeping toward the Arrays.
Judging solely by the varying intensity of the vibrations caused by the Tyrant’s footsteps, Chen believed that the Tyrant was unaware of his location and was wandering around in hopes of finding him.
Chen had taken no more than a dozen steps before a long mournful howl echoed across the plains.
The vibrations caused by the Tyrant’s footsteps paused as if he was considering the source of the noise. When the Tyrant began moving again, Chen could feel that he was no longer wandering about, the Tyrant was headed in his direction.
Chen ran.
Savage barking rang out in the near distance and the heavy footfalls of the Tyrant were now not only headed in Chen’s direction but increasing in frequency.
Chen had forgotten that the Tyrant was capable of Summoning magical beasts and now realised that it was a race to see who could reach the Defensive Arrays first.
Convinced he was no longer able to hide, Chen used the Boundless Step movement Technique to quintuple his pace at the expense of consuming his Chi. Injured as he was, Chen couldn’t manage even a tenth of his usual speed and could feel the Tyrant growing closer with every passing second.
Calling several pills from his Storage Ring, Chen stuffed them into his mouth and swallowed them down with an expensive Elixir. The enhancing effects of the pills dulled the pain, enhanced his flagging stamina, hardened his bones and replaced his missing blood. However, the effects would cause irreparable damage to Chen’s body and prospects of future Cultivation if he wasn’t able to meditate and remove the accumulated impurities within the hour.
The side effects had been the reason he was so wary of taking them sooner, especially with the Tyrant’s location being unknown at the time. Now things had changed, and Chen’s priorities had changed alongside them. He needed time to recover and plan out a path to victory, or at the very least, avoid a catastrophic defeat.
To make that happen, Chen needed to reach the Defensive Arrays.
Leaving the slowly settling debris cloud behind, Chen felt a renewed sense of hope as he laid eyes on the overlapping Defensive Arrays. Spending more Chi to increase his speed further, Chen closed half of the remaining distance in a single stride but lost his balance as the increased strain caused internal damage to his right leg.
Desperate and unwilling to have taken the potentially permanent damage in vain, Chen launched himself forward and unceremoniously rolled the remaining distance using his built-up inertia and momentum.
Now safely behind the powerful protections of the Defensive Arrays, Chen felt a sudden surge in confidence.
All I have to do now is...
Chen’s thoughts faltered as he laid eyes on the Tyrant now charging toward the outermost boundary of the Defensive Arrays.
The Tyrant carried no weapon but had his right fist drawn back in preparation to strike.
“Impenetrable...” Chen muttered nervously. “At least for a time...The Arrays...They should be able to”
Seemingly striking open air, the Tyrant’s fist crashed into the invisible field of the Earth Defense Array. The steel rods of the Array flared with a pale crimson glow and twisted ever so slightly inward as if struck by a smith's hammer.
Looking on in horror, Chen watched as the Tyrant drew back his fist and struck the boundary of the Defensive Array again and again in tireless succession. Each strike made the rods binding the Array glow brighter and deform with greater severity.
It had become clear to Chen that he would not have the hours of preparation and recuperation he had originally hoped for. At most, he suspected that he only had a few minutes before the Earth Defensive Array failed, and the Spirit Defensive Array shortly after.
“W-Wait!” Chen cried out while trying to keep most of the fear from his voice and project an air of now thoroughly undeserved confidence. “We can end this peacefully!”
The Tyrant made no reply and continued battering at the Array.
“Do not think just because you got lucky and caught me off guard that you can just do what you want!” Chen cautioned angrily, what remained of his pride demanding some form of retribution for the injustices it had suffered. “We should end this now! I will even call it my loss!”
The steel rods of the Array groaned as they became ever more warped and twisted under the Tyrant’s relentless assault.
“You refuse to give me even a little face?!” Chen shrieked incredulously. “Do you know how many Monarchs I have killed?! Those who underestimate me DIE!”
With the Array now on the brink of collapse, Chen began slowly backing away. “I’LL GIVE YOU TWICE, NO, FIVE TIMES WHAT YOU WAGERED!!!”
With a wailing shriek, the steel rods were torn apart and scattered to the wind.
Mouth dry and heart hammering inside of his chest, Chen raised his sword in a panic and hurriedly began limping away to try and put as much distance between them as possible. “S-STAY B-BACK!!” Chen warned, gathering every ounce of his remaining Chi and converting it into Sword Chi for his final stand. “IF YOU DON’T LET ME GO, IT WON’T END HERE!!!” Chen threatened feverishly, “I’LL MAKE SURE YOUR ENTIRE DYNASTY IS WIPED FROM LIVING MEMORY!!!”
Against all Chen’s expectations, his final threat appeared to have given the Tyrant pause. “You are threatening my family?!” He demanded, his voice rumbling like thunder.
“Th-that’s right!” Chen replied hastily, seizing upon the Tyrant’s obvious weakness. “Even if you killed me! My descendants will wipe your kin from the face of existence and seal their souls in perpetual torment! So you better-” Survival instincts honed from a thousand battlefields screamed at Chen to stop negotiating and RUN.
Temporarily crippled. Chen already knew he had no chance of escaping on foot, and without Chi to fuel his movement Techniques, he had no other immediate means of escape barring a declaration of Forfeit.
Refusing to sacrifice his Empire without making one final effort to seize victory from the jaws of defeat, Chen drew back his sword and focused on the Tyrant’s massive head.
Even the fastest healing monsters died after taking enough damage to the brain.
“STRIKING STAR OF THE DIVINE HEAVENS!!!” Chen roared, sweeping his sword in a perfect arc and sending a silver crescent of Sword Chi racing toward the Tyrant’s forehead.
Caught off guard and denied the use of movement Techniques thanks to the surviving Spirit Defensive Array, the Tyrant was unable to avoid Chen’s attack.
Just as Chen had hoped, the Sword Chi sheared near effortlessly through the magically reinforced steel of the Tyrant’s thick-browed helmet. However, it angled off course almost immediately afterwards and sped away into the night after carving a tear in the side of the Tyrant’s helmet.
Unable to comprehend what had happened, Chen came to his senses too late to dodge the grasping hand of the Tyrant.
Caught beneath the armpits, Chen attempted striking his sword through the gaps in the Tyrant’s gauntlet but lacked the raw strength required to penetrate the thick leather without the aid of his Sword Chi.
The Tyrant’s grip tightened and forcibly drove the breath from Chen’s lungs.
“F-F-F-F...” Chen wheezed in terror, all thoughts of Empire and pride abandoned in the face of his imminent demise.
The Tyrant lifted Chen off the ground with effortless ease and stomped out of the Spiritual Defensive Array’s protective field. “No one threatens my family,” the Tyrant growled coldly.
“F-F-Fo-” Chen’s ribs creaked under the Tyrant’s grip and his right hip gave out entirely.
“There is no forgiveness for what you intended.” Like a giant vice, the Tyrant’s fist closed one step further, breaking several of Chen’s ribs and driving Chen’s armour into the void.
“R-Rf-F-F-” Tears streamed down Chen’s cheeks and blood ran over his lips as the broken tips of his ribs were driven into his lungs.
“Whenever someone so much as THINKS-” The Tyrant’s fist tightened two steps further to accent his point before relaxing again. “-of threatening MY FAMILY! They will remember what happened to YOU!”
Demonic Energy surged out of the Tyrant’s fist and flooded into Chen’s broken and unresisting body.
Chen wanted to scream.
The Demonic Energy brought a pain that Chen would never have thought existed, forcing his awareness to experience each excruciating moment as entropy gnawed away at his body.
Even with his Cultivation already left in ruins, Chen still desperately wanted to survive. Kharma had already shown generosity far more than what he knew he had deserved, and while his deeds had mattered little in the eternal perspective of an immortal, Chen now found himself petrified at facing the judgement of the heavens for a second time.
“-et.” Barely more than an involuntary cough, Chen nonetheless felt an unimaginably profound sense of relief as the arbiters of the heavens sent confirmation of his request.
Unable to read the confirmation due to the damage to his eyes, Chen felt a momentary pang of fear. Until now, he had never had cause to Forfeit a battle and did not know if it required a spoken confirmation to take effect.
Please! PLEASE! I BEG! LET ME LEAVE! LET ME LIVE!
All at once, Chen was evacuated from the Battlefield and left to collapse onto the hard stone floor of his decadently furnished personal chambers.
Spitting up blood, Chen only vaguely acknowledged that he had left his sword behind and that the rings that had adorned his left hand were now missing.
“DIVINE PATRIARCH!” The cry of alarm came from the direction of the main door and belonged to his steward, Fu Leng.
Fu Leng was not a cultivator, which was the primary reason Chen had chosen him for the position of steward in the first place. Cultivators were far too ambitious to be trusted and too arrogant to accept such a position without ulterior motives.
“H-He-eal-errr...” Chen groaned, requiring several rasping and bloody coughs to convey the single word of his request.
Fu Leng had knelt beside Chen and had been attempting to remove Chen’s broken armour but stopped at once. “A-As you command!” Fu Leng stammered, rushing to his feet and sprinting out of the room. “HEALER!!! CALL THE HEALER!!!”
Thanks to the effects of the pills he had taken earlier, Chen was able to remain conscious and even roll onto his side so he wouldn’t drown in his blood. He also knew that it was thanks to the pills that he was still alive at all. Without their combined effects holding his insides together, Chen knew he would have bled out the moment he left the Tyrant’s grasp.
“Oh, Father, whatever has happened to you?” A familiar and overly feminine voice exclaimed with feigned concern. “When I heard the steward calling for a healer, I couldn’t have ever imagined that you would be found in such a state...” Jie, Chen’s youngest daughter, glided through his periphery before kneeling beside him. “Of course, the announcement of your Forfeit was all the news I had needed to recognise that something was wrong,” she continued conversationally, “So I made sure to bring a powerful medicine I have been preparing for just such an occasion! You should feel most grateful to have such a filial daughter, father!”
Chen felt profound regret over sending Fu Leng away. If he had remained, Chen doubted Jie would have been nearly so tempted.
“Wondering about the steward?” Jie asked curiously, “Don’t worry, he will be joining us shortly.”
Mere moments later, there was a loud thud as someone was cast onto the floor beside Chen.
“Too loyal for his good,” Jie sighed disappointedly, “The poor steward never did understand the importance of making friends. The fool was under the impression that you, dearest father, would live forever. What a disappointment it must have been to find this empty shell. Why, anyone could understand that it was enough to compel him to take his own life.” Jie paused for a moment, and Chen could readily imagine a smug satisfied smile dancing on her lips as she was prone to do when gloating over defeated rivals. “In fact, several prominent guards are prepared to attest to this fact right now, and only wait for one final confirmation.”
His daughter was nothing more than a blurry mess, but Chen did his best to glare all the same. Jie had always been the most vicious of his children.
“I will make things simple for you, Father,” Jie cooed sweetly as she gently shifted bloody strands of hair from his face. “Surrender all of the remaining Territories to me, and I will allow my younger siblings and their families to live. Deny me, and I will see them stripped of their cultivation and sold to the cheapest brothels remaining in the Empire. Besides, we both know that dividing the Empire any further will see them doomed anyway...”
Chen didn’t doubt Jie was capable of following through on her threat and knew she was telling the truth. After selfishly Forfeiting half of his collective territories, dividing them any further would only trigger a feeding frenzy. Of which Jie could use to Challenge and kill her siblings anyway.
Deep down, Chen already knew that his body was beyond repair. He had been fooling himself to think otherwise. He was going to die, and it didn’t matter how afraid he was of facing judgement for his sins, death would come for him all the same.
Using his divine authority, Chen decided to secure the future of his dynasty and nominated Wang Jie as the sole inheritor of his Empire.
Unable to resist or defend himself in any way, Chen could only choke and splutter as a foul ichorous liquid was poured down his throat and stole the final moments of his life.
