Chapter 102: Calamity in the Sword Sect.
I would use the theme: Nier Automata Ost- Bipolar Nightmare(Vocals)
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Astaroth Continent.
Martial Mountain Range.
A Mature woman was skillfully walking down the Mountain…In trance reminiscing about what happened hours ago.
'The First Sentence…She doesn't stop getting stronger with time.'
'Her talent is limitless.'
Looking in the direction of the Sect, she sighed deeply, pain in her heart.
She used the powerful Impulse on her legs to get as far as possible, as fast as possible.
Trying to make it back to the sect as far as possible.
Finally with all her effort, she crossed the distance, making in in front of the Gates of The Sword Sect.
But as she overexerted her body, she started spurting Blood!!
"Sect Ancestor!!"
Immediately a bandaged man appeared by her side, landing her his shoulder.
The man was in even more pitying form than she was, but he was more worried about the woman.
"Sect Ancestor! Are you okay?!"
She lightly laughed:
"Don't worry…I am getting better already."
The man had a reproachful gaze:
"Sect Ancestor. You shouldn't have gone to meet the other 9 Hermits in this State."
She sneered:
"And let them think that something was amiss in our Sword Sect. Wouldn't they love to hear that? Those Old Bastards!!"
"Look!! I am getting better already!!"
The Man had a heavy heart as he looked as her state.
"We made a bad move, Sect Ancestor."
She advanced, her beloved sect finally uncovering before her eyes.
Yet, what was before, a Millennia Martial Art Haven, didn't even retain a particle of it's once great glory.
Would you believe it?
If they told you this Sect was brimming with splendor only weeks ago?
A Hidden Paradise on Astaroth.
Great White and Golden immaculate arches! Great Building from different cultures. Proving the International character of the sect.
The Spanish like influence of Saharian Architecture. The Turkish like way of craft of the Oriental part of the Astaroth Continent. And even the immaculate clean style of the Federation.
Surely…A Jewel of a place. A Cultural Treasure, and a Feast of the eyes.
The Effort and Sweat of endless generations of disciples of different identities.
It wasn't only that.
The place was a Natural little paradise too.
Big and Shining blue Pounds.
Mountains so big they would make the Everest look like a flat rock.
Gardens and Forest where the most beautiful beast, and most mysterious herbs lived in a nigh perfect ecosystem.
Sect disciples training from the sunrise to deep in the night.
Geniuses fighting geniuses. Student living in bliss of learning the profound art of wielding the sword.
It was bliss. A Little Happy Place of hers. Something she protected for her whole, long and tortuous life.
There was not a lot of Important things in her lifetime.
After living such a long existence, she has come to despise a lot of things she deemed precious in her earlier youth. Yet…The Sect was always 'Home' for her.
And this Home today…Faced disaster.
First of all…Sword Marks….Sword Marks were everywhere.
The Buildings were destroyed all sliced into smithereens.
Falling apart, like the remains of an Ancient civilization.
You would see Mansions 10 Times bigger than castles, ripped from their core, and decomposing like Ancient Beasts.
Be it beautiful Roman-like Arches, the Cathedrale-like Mansions, the Big and Round Turkish and Arabian Buildings.
Everything was reduced into sliced pieces.
The Forests, were erased from existence, as the blood of the Beautiful Prized beasts previously roaming there, colored the green in crimson red.
The Mountains were sliced in half as their peak touched the ground.
Like Titans prostrating before a Bigger and Mysterious Power.
The Ponds, as Big as lakes were divided into even parts, in a perpetual way.
Like the Bibilical Parting of the Sea!
The Sect Ancestor felt her heart getting ripped from her chest just witnessing such a tragic sight.
"What in the past is in the past. We can't change it, can we?"
She advanced sometimes wobbling, yet still trying to appear mighty.
No matter how useless. Her disciples needed that.
Oh…Her disciples…Let's talk about that...
As soon as she made her first steps…The disgusting stench of warm blood invaded her nostrils.
Even after being cleaned multiple times, the Blood was still persisting.
The odor of death and battle will persist here for a long time.
And not only the odor.
Soon in her sights…Some little buildings of fortune where hastly built…To 'Accommodate' the disciples.
The Issue was…
…They were all cut.
Without exception, all had an injury.
The disciples were limping away, their tendons cut off.
The Seniors were still bleeding uncontrollably after god knows how many treatments.
The Elders, some didn't even make it.
The Supreme Elder, with some exceptions…All were still passed out, in a coma, drenched in their whole blood.
Keep in mind. Those were not the disciples of a little siege, of a remote oriental region.
No…Those were the real deal.
Country Level or Above. NO QUESTION ASKED!!
Any disciple would give a Maou a run for his Money.
Each Senior would whoop Serafall's cute little ass.
Each Elder would fight Raditz to the death.
The Supreme Elders are Planet Busters.
The Woman tending here and there the wounded, the dying and to the recovering; finally made it to her abode.
By her side, the young man that was accompanying her, she sighed:
"We did make a miscalculation."
"I didn't expect it to come to swords."
And for her…
She was one of the Legendary 10 Hermits of the Martial Alliance.
Looked up as a reference in the whole continent. Someone on a level between the 5th Sentence and The 3rd of the Saharos Empire.
A Star Buster, persay…
She opened her Kimono revealing her still beautiful body, but before one could even wallow in the beauty of her form.
One would have to throw up a hundred time over.
In her pale, perfect abdomen, was a deep cut, so deep that even her intestines were showing.
The Cut soared until her chest as her bountiful breast was split like a watermelon, revealing her bloody ribs.
To say, that she was gravely wounded was a grave understatement.
This strike was, in her own words:
'Two inches away from death'
She took off her top. As the Young man looking the other way sighed:
"I still can't believe it."
"Graceful, ethereal and Extremely Talented."
"That's all we knew of her until know."
He sighed:
"When she made her way back."
"All the Sect Members were trembling with Fear."
The Sect Ancestor skillfully resewed her half Meter long wound, like pain didn't mean anything to her.
She sighed:
"So she is back. Thank God for that Letter."
She narrowed her eyes, rage in her tone:
"Well. I hope that freaking Rwa Empire Princess had her share of fun. I really hope so."
"Ruining all my efforts to isolate all outside information from reaching her."
"I hope her two laughs were worth my whole sect."
She took a deep breath, as she remembered the scene, she just witnessed back at the Martial Mountain Chain.
"Is she still at the Ghost Mountain?"
"I have some news to discuss with her."
She dressed up again. But as she was about to leave the young man took her hand.
"Sect Ancestor. Be cautions. She is dangerous."
His palm was sweaty, his whole arm was trembling, as deeply ingrained in his eyes, fear resided like home.
'Is this really the Sect Master?'
The Sect ancestor kindly shook off his grip:
"Don't worry about me."
"Unlike you. I actually knew about her real persona from the beginning."
"I am her Master, after all."
"That's why I tried to keep her isolated from the rest."
She took a deep breath, as she got out:
"She completely ruined this place, didn't she?"
Feeling a little better she accelerated to appear in front of the only Mountain still standing.
She made another swift step, instantly appearing before, what seemed like a Gigantic Shinto Shrine.
A this height, the whole place seemed like a Sky Shrine.
Bathing in the Orange light of dawn. The light and fleeting clouds in the background. The gigantic Memorial tombstones.
Each one of them held a Golden engraved name.
'First Master of the Sword Sect.'
'Second Master of the Sword Sect'
.
.
.
.
'23rd Master of the Sword Sect'
Those were all her 23 Precious and now dead disciples.
And from there a mysterious spectral energy was appearing and manifesting as their bodies.
The Woman sighed:
'Spectral Apparition'
'The Secret technique of the High Shrine of the Sword Sect.'
'It summons the souls of the Previous Masters of the Sword Sect in Spectral Form.'
'Their Strength and Speed are the same, if not enhanced by several times.'
'Their attacks are deadly for people who do not have soul protection. No matter the realm, if your soul is damaged. You are done.'
She laughed lightly, as she scrutinized the 23 Spectral Powerhouses even surpassing their prime, lashing out with every fiber of their power, at one beautiful, shapely silhouette.
She was wearing an Oriental light outfit. So light it could drive countries crazy.
A Blindfold on her eyes.
Shapely was understatement. A BIG understatement
Busty Chest, but still firmly in place as she moved.
Her Slim Waist, covered in the back by her two sheathed Scimitars.
Curvy and Ample Bottom, yet it didn't get int the way of her long legs movement.
Her slender bare arms in the air were moving, as if she was not fighting but dancing.
Her whole lower body was moving like it was seducing the Heavens itself in her dance, as she dodged strike after the other.
Swiftly and easily, like she wasn't wrestling with life and death, she continued her oriental-like dance.
It looked somewhat real and unreal at the same time.
Every Star Shattering, sword, every attack was Surpassing the Speed of light by several levels. Yet they somehow found a way to never land.
23 Monster Specters, that only needed one successful strike to kill.
Yet the Danseuse didn't even need to unsheathe her Scimitars.
A Planet Shattering gorgeous smile on her lips she continued to dance, like she was the center of the Universe.
Basking in the bliss of her own world.
Sometimes you would hear her giggling, as her impeccable footwork, took charge of rendering any strike completely useless.
The 23th Enlightened Martial Artists looked like a bunch of clowns trying to grip at air.
The sound of her steps against the land even resounded into a beautiful melody.
The Percussions, the danseuse and the 23 Specters that even started to get tired.
What a ridiculous scene, isn't it? How do Specters even get tired anyway?
The Woman sighed, dread in her eyes:
'She wasn't crowned as 'The Most beautiful to ever hold a Sword' for nothing.'
And as if only detecting the presence of the Sect Ancestor now, the blindfolded woman stopped:
"Oh…Master…You are back."
She saw the beautiful silhouette's slender arms slowly reaching out to the Scimitars behind her back. An amused voice was heard.
"Tough Luck…Maybe you will get me next time."
Yet the Scimitars didn't even seem to be out of their Sheath, that they were back.
After the click sound. The 23 Specters disintegrated into smithereens.
The silhouette finally stopped her alluring dance.
Using her slender, immaculate fingers she took off her blindfold. She marched swiftly, as the silhouette turned into a breathtaking beauty.
Navy Blue Hair following her like an immortal carpet. A the end of her floating hair, dark grey tips.
Her Heterochrome eyes were a curious mix of grey and yellow, shining lightly in the Sunlight.
A deep grey left eye, and a shining sun-like right one.
Her whole face was ever-changing, wrestling between the liveliness and warmth of the Summer and the coldness and ruthlessness of the Winter.
Quite beffiting of someone from 'that' Dynasty, wouldn't you say?
Was she the Winter or was she the Summer today?
Hard to say…Very Hard to say…
And it's certainly not her Imperial Little Brother who will know the answer!!!
The slightly revealing clothes she was wearing, showed her immaculate white skin.
Her beautiful rosy lips, parted into a slightly teasing smile:
"Did the meeting go well?"
The Woman sighed:
"You've got quite the gall to ask me that."
She looked at the cheerful, joyful smile she was making at her.
This was the woman that destroyed all her sect in a fit of rage.
The unstoppable person that was 2 inches short of Killing her.
"Coming back like nothing happened after what you did."
No one could stop her. As disciple after the other were getting sliced off like a meat on board.
The Elders fighting back like little children resisting an Adult.
The Supreme Elders put on a much, much more ridiculous display than the Specters.
In the History of all the Marital Alliance. Only the Ten Hermits had the Power of taking on their entire sects.
To think there was a senior disciple able to do that +the Hermit in question…And easily at that.
She was never even scratched.
This was the woman admired and Hailed as 'The Sword-Maiden'. Object of love and worship of all the members of the Martial Alliance.
Yet, now…She became an unforgettable nightmare.
Her most talented disciple to date. The only one to have ever surpassed her.
And not by a little.
Her Talent even surpassing those of the Saharos Empire.
And not by a little.
Her teasing smile still on, she responded with a little ridicule:
"You were the ones who stood in my way."
Her smile grew wider, feline, and more beautiful than ever:
"And the one who can stand in the way of Kosem Vega getting to her brother, isn't born yet…"
The Mocking and Prideful tone only grew, as she sounded weirdly like a certain Emperor:
"And never will be...Master."