God Obliterating Vajra [Esoteric Dark Fantasy]

"The ubiquity of that entity, God, emanates from the dispossessed and the wretched of the earth. But that word, God, arrives from the Ancient Yewamnya—that Pre-Proto-Karitic language now lost to time—gotr. The gotr is the invoker. Historically, as written by Shennin scholars of Ruonggu, Shen's Capital City, the term Gotr (or gotar) invoked the Inttr (Inttar) or the God-King. The word therefore refers to the Highest Invoker."

From Discourses On The Broken Word by the Philosopher-Wizard Wirossathen

It is said that you will know how you will die. I think this is a particularly morbid way to breach the subject of life and mortality. But what those philosophers did not consider is the fact that you could change your fate. And this fate-changing was a thousand times easier if you have a hundred year old uber-wizard on your side.

To be fair. Anything would be easier with an uber-wizard on your side.

Was the Ultramystic a Wizard? Raxri had never met one yet.

Chakra rods were, on average, 1.5 meter long rods of pure black made of pure cutting Breath. This was an advanced technick—one that required long hours of meditation and control of one's breathing. To even be able to expel the Breath was difficult—that usually manifested as beams or explosions or expulsions. But to be able to expel the Breath, catch it, and then form it immediately into rods of pure Breath was a mark of a true Cultivator.

Sutasoma was in front of Raxri immediately. One kick deflected a chakra rod. She caught the second. Cracked it in half in that hand. Raxri was too slow—they were dealing with beings now too fast for even their awareness to see.

Sutasoma set her jaw. Grim. She looked up. Heaven itself swirled. Whorled. Funnelled, an ambivalent tornado. The point of spinning converged upon a single body. Descending, descending, descending.

Sutasoma turned to the other people in the noodle temple and yelled something at them in Wegrese. Then, she performed the hand seals and uttered the mantras—a translucent turtle-shell sphere-barrier shimmered to life around them. Then they disappeared, blipping away. Teleported.

Before the tornado-being could even reach the noodle temple, a short woman apparated in front of Sutasoma. Her hair flurried platinum, and she moved without touching the ground. This time she wore fashion of embroidered blue-flame, and her hair shone a bright pink.

Saint Ashtasi. She stretched like a cat, and then summoned five more chakra rods. Arrayed about her like a halo.

"Sutasoma!" She said, grinning. Her teeth were sharpened to points. "What a pleasure to see you once again."

"I cannot say the same," said Sutasoma. She had to exert effort to stop herself from scowling. "What quarrel have you with me, in this fine Raka day?"

A figure clad in starmetal and aerosteel leapt down from the top of the pagoda. He descended, an asteroid, toward Raxri. Sutasoma stepped, swung her hand. Invisible mental force surged, a tsunami. The indomitable starmetal figure could not stop an assault of psychomagickal force, despite being mostly impervious to all harm.

The tsunami force of psychic force sent him hurtling over the edge. He spun in midair and summoned swords from a hand sign. These hundred swords immediately zipped, bolted to his back. Caught him, and created a sword-wings. These sword-wings carried him higher, to the sky.

Atthur, the Impervious King of Zawgom. He hovered over Raxri and Sutasoma like a god.

The sky cleared for a moment, there. Then, the sky split in half. The clouds rolled away. A single line.

As the greatsword wielding form of Galdasigwa, the Unassailable Chronophantasma, dove down, down, down. A piece of heaven as a cleaving blade. He fell, fell, fell. His blade streaking, a shooting star.

Sutasoma, now with a face turning more serious, performed the hand signs and uttered the mantras. She flew into the air, hovered for a bit, and then reached up.

Her fingers perfectly blocked the heaven-cleaving greatsword of the giant Galdasigwa.

But Galdasigwa was skilled in the secret sword arts. Of course he was. He exploded into a storm of afterimages. Each one cutting down upon Sutasoma. Showing off his extreme speed, a reverse-burgeoning flower.

Sutasoma burst open like a gold chrysanthemum. Her hands shimmered, glittered, flickered. Every greatsword stroke met with an orichalcum parrying arm. The sound was of two steel bristles raked against each other. A perfect defense.

Galdasigwa reappeared on the rooftop. He was giant—greatly towering over even Sutasoma, who was already freakishly tall for her size! He wore nothing but a sarong, and his body was peppered over with protective talisman tattoos. His eyes burned crimson as he exerted his sword-soul. "Fucking peerless, as always," said Galdasigwa, frowning.

Sutasoma raised a demure shoulder. "I try my best." She stuck her tongue out. A strangely cute action for someone of her stature.

Galdasigwa grinned widely. "I can't help but respect it!" He turned and lunged toward Raxri, still sitting under the parasol. Raxri leapt to the side—they were so tired—but before Galdasigwa's Piece of Heaven could guillotine Raxri, the giant greatsword stopped.

The light refracted, folded, shifted in front of Raxri. Next, Sutasoma stepped out of this light-fold in reality, holding the Piece of Heaven back with nothing but her finger. It glinted lucent in the sunlight. Sunlight revealed by the splitting of the skies and the peeling off of the clouds.

"Galdasigwa, naughty."

"Crumble beneath my feet, worthless wizard!" He seized her with a giant clawed arm, only for her to duck under it, move in far too close to his abdomen, and then strike it. The strike was so quick—faster than light. In one instant she had struck, the next instant she had stepped back.

Tornado force winds flurried through Galdasigwa. Sent him flying. Out and away.

"Tch." Sutasoma shook her hand. Punching Galdasigwa must've hurt.

A silver dragon-lion erupted from the ground beneath Galdasigwa, catching him with its maws and then putting him down relatively safely on the noodle shop's garden grounds. The dragon lion's hide and skin looked solid and glinted like porcelain, though it was largely colored white, green, and red.

After a moment, it turned to Sutasoma, and inhaled.

Everything went quiet, just for a moment. Everything felt dry, suddenly. As if some intense, infra-heat burned away all the moisture in the air for a split second.

Then, it exhaled. Pure hot white flame rolled out of the distended maw of the dragon-lion. It seared away the color from everything it touched.

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Sutasoma performed the hand signs, did not even utter any mantras. From her hand exploded a translucent turtle-shell dome, engulfing both her and Raxri. The smokeless fires washed over them. A river of creamy immolation. It looked like the first memory of flame. The white hot fires sparked and crackled as it crashed against the turtle-shell dome. A Barrier magick, Raxri knew, from the depths of their souls.

When the fires finally ended, rolling off into perfectly neat ribbons around them, and the embers had finally completely dissipated, Sutasoma closed her hands into a fist. The ribbons and tongues of Purefire still lingering dissipated as it was blown away by the shockwave.

The dragon-lion shook its head—like a lion dancer—and it convulsed. Contorted. Perverted and changed its shape until it was the slender form of Mentra, the Spiral Beast.

A shadow flew over Sutasoma's face. Another nigh-wizard. "Spiral Beast."

"Ah, Ultramystic! Catch this Shooting Star!" He performed a hand gesture and ululated a ten-syllable mantra. The next instant, a portal ripped open above him. A shooting star surged through the the open portal. It twinkled for a moment before it zoomed straight for Sutasoma.

"A new trick I see! How interesting!" said Sutasoma. Though the pressure mounted, Sutasoma did not seem like she was worsening. Fatigue was a suggestion that she chose not to heed. She stepped forward and bent low, and with a martial art movement, she flipped. Her long leg revealed. She cleaved it down like a giant blade.

Her leg struck the shooting star as she announced: "Ten Thousand Earth-Shattering Blows Style: Transient Parallel Disillusionment!" Her leg cracked down upon the incoming comet. It paused for a moment, and then, it harmlessly exploded into an incessant fluttering of butterflies.

The cloud of beating wings flurried the noodle shop rooftop. Then the black butterflies dispersed.

Mentra was already charging forward.

Sutasoma's eyes widened. Adrenaline surged through Sutasoma. Exhilerated, she couldn't help but smile. "Finally! Some action!" Mentra was shorter than Sutasoma, and Sutasoma's legs extended far past his. Even then, Mentra fought with the fierceness only a mystic martial artist could. They had morphed their legs into dragon legs, and sprouted a long dragon tail. Prehensile and limber. They fought with their eyes turned into the burning rubies of a lion's as well.

Sutasoma the Ultramystic and Mentra the Spiral Beast traded blows, faster than Raxri could even see. Mentra's style was one of bounding lightning—bouncing, sliding, leaping, vaulting with superior acrobatics. He tried to knock Sutasoma off balance with a double kick into a low tail-sweep combo. Sutasoma blocked both kicks. Then deflected away the tail sweep with a low kick followed.

They traded blocks and parries again. Mentra struck with magicked-blows: fists of burning fire. Kicks of lightning. Dragon tail whips that turned into hammer-fists that sent pulses of Pureflame down from it. The peerless Sutasoma countered with magicked barriers, insta-wards to parry away the flames or redirect them, and by striking with summoned Fulmination Spears... which Mentra would shatter with magick bladehands.

One of Sutasoma's darkened fists connected with Mentra's chest. Mentra absorbed the flowing Darkflame from it with a mantra—then, Mentra pinned Sutasoma close to him by gripping that fist to his chest, and kneed her gut with a dragon leg. Sutasoma doubled over for a moment. Mentra corkscrewed in the air. Swung with his giant dragon tail. It slammed into Sutasoma. Sent her flying across the space of the noodle shop garden.

Sutasoma caught herself in mid-air and twisted. Repositioned herself, then burst. As she was about to, Ashtasi sent five chakra rods to pin her to the ground. She grunted in pain as four of the chakra rods skewered through both her feet and both her hands. She would've developed stigmata, but a sudden flaring and a shattering of one of her talismans shattered the chakra rods in half.

The chakra rods spun in mid-air. Sutasoma punched, kicked, punched, spin-kicked the four rods straight back up to Ashtasi, forcing her to focus on dodging the lightning-quick chakra rods.

And then Atthur was there, sword and shield in hand. It was his job to lock Sutasoma down. He jump-pierced with his sword. Sutasoma wove out of it easily. Atthur followed with a blistering five hit combo. Sutasoma spaced her way out of the first three attacks, deflected the fourth, and then flickered inside to elbow Atthur's abdomen.

A normal mortal would have had their elbow shattered by the magicked iron of Atthur's starmetal. But not Sutasoma. She enhanced her elbow with yantra talisman tattoos. She uttered a mantra and performed a mudra as her elbow pierced through Atthur's Starmetal Heavy Suit. "Now, Ardor Multiplier: Impale!"

The tattoos on her elbow suddenly flurried brightly. Crimson Ardor carried by Breath flowed through it, skewering straight through Atthur. From within his hollow and robotic helmet, he coughed.

He reached out to grab Sutasoma's hair with his shield hand. Sutasoma flipped to swat it way. As she did, Atthur's starmetal armor shone with the light of a thousand supernovas.

The next instant Sutasoma and Atthur had swapped places. And Sutasoma instead the bleeding wound in her stomach. And Atthur instead was safe and unharmed. "Can't believe you fell for that trick, Su!"

Galdasigwa's voice erupted. "Dang Hwan Athura! Above you!"

The Sutasoma coughing up blood flickered into black butterflies.

"What?!" Atthur looked up—

"Gyah!" Six afterimages of Sutasoma was mid-corkscrew. It was too late when Atthur looked up, of course. "Ardor Multiplier: Cleave!"

Six ax-kicks from six-Sutasoma's.

"Astrologian Secret Art—" said Atthur, quickly, desperate. "Quantum Slip!"

Atthur teleported in a flash of stardust. Just as the six afterimages of Sutasoma crashed down with their ax-kicks, sending six concrete blades up into the air, forming an asterisk.

Galdasigwa had leapt across the intervening space to try and push Atthur out of the way. Sutasoma reappeared underneath him. She performed the hand seals and performed the mantras and announced: "Ultramystic Nirvana Style: Reverse Vajra!" She punched up, and her burning Ardor exploded in liquid lightning. She sent Galdasigwa flying straight up.

Galdasigwa could withstand large amounts of punishment. He spun around and swung with his greatsword instead. It was large enough that the blade crashed into Sutasoma even as Galdasigwa was mid-way into the sky.

"Ngh!" She adopted the proper sword-blade absorption stance to catch the edge of the blade. She stopped it, as if it were nothing but a falling door. But all that cutting force had to go somewhere. And it did. The cutting force went through Sutasoma, and sheared away a huge chunk of the tower they stood upon... diagonally. "Fuck," thought Sutasoma. "Too much collateral."

"Gah!"

Raxri.

Raxri was swatting away attacks from Mentra with a piece of broken steel they had found lying about. A makeshift, improvised sword. They fought well, all things considered. Beaten back and completely overwhelmed. The initiative was completely on the side of the Five Triumphant Immortals.

"It's been too long that we have not seen each other, Raxri!" said Mentra. "How is the martial-magick creation? The Violence-Attainment? Still think it was worth it throwing us under the bus?!"

Raxri did not know how to respond. They were too busy blocking off attacks, keeping death at bay. They were doing not too bad for themselves, considering that Mentra was one of the best fighters in the Realms Belligerent. They were deliberately using Adamantine Lightning Strikes to keep deflecting the multi-hit attacks of Mentra. Against Raxri, Mentra was launching eight combos. Mixes of dragon tail-whips and punches and thundering kicks. Raxri blocked with well-placed defensive slashes, live-hand redirections, and relentless weaving.

It would not be enough, unfortunately.

A breach in Raxri's offensive defense allowed Mentra to strike Raxri's sword-hand. "You're slow, now! No confidence! You used to be so great. You used to fly without fear and slay Law-Breakers without hesitation. Look at you now! This is what you deserve after doing what you did to us! To me!"

The strike with the hand immediately converted into Mentra insta-shapechanging it into a dragon's talons, and slashing through. Savagely ripping at Raxri's sword-hand. That was when Raxri cried out in pain.

"Finally!" It was Ashtasi, flipping around as she flew through the air and summoning a single chakra rod from her heart to go scything through, through through. Ashtasi cackled, witch-like. "Oh, I'm so happy I get to be the one to kill you, you abandoner. You betrayer. You traitor! The Realms Belligerent is all about Karma, and karma shall be laid upon you now! Metom's Hammer: Chakra Rod!"

Her chakra rod pierced through the torn sword hand of Raxri Uttara.

"Gotrabai War God Fist: Wrathful God Punishes The Wicked!"

Sutasoma was there, punching. The first punch landed agaainst Mentra's face. So strongly that all of reality paused for a moment to witness the shockwave erupting from Mentra's cheek. It ripped the skin and the fat and showed parts of bone.

This moment of reality-watching was something Sutasoma was not chained to, by dint of their nigh-immortality. As the entire universe was in slow-motion, she punched and kicked fifteen more times.

When the second was over, and time snapped back to its original flow. This was the secret technique of the Gotrabai War God Fist.

Mentra, had they not been an immortal, would've become fine paste by now. But by the third blow they managed to slip out of the way by sacrificing one of their magicked robes. Behind Ashtasi they rolled onto their side, shorn of all shapechange. Steam and smoke coming out of their form.

Sutasoma turned to Raxri. Their entire arm was not in good condition. "We need to go." She reached for the chakra rod—

—and the tornado arrived. Silently. Quietly. Like the finality of midnight.

Reyayu Kodaku, the Emperor of the Universe, seized Sutasoma's hand.