Odyssey of the Guardian Emperor

Finn pulled Brett through the crowded alleys and streets of Melbourne, following the sound of chaos and destruction. The citizens of Melbourne were done hiding in their houses. After witnessing explosions capable of wiping the city off the face of the continent only days after a demon stampede, everyone was now running for their lives.

Merchants loaded up carts, wagons and carriages with goods and shot for the gates in a feverish frenzy. Shops closed and barriers went up. Bunkers were abandoned; Considering the kind of forces at play, bunkers were just comfortable graves.

Finn, having gained experience in the Emerald City, weaved through the city with relative ease, Brett in tow. The pair had witnessed the explosion of Cataclysts that shook Melbourne, but rather than run away from it like everybody else, Finn was pulling Brett through the mess of scrambling humans, making his way towards the source.

"On second thought, we should go back and help the others," Brett yelled over the noise of running people and rolling carriages. "What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong, Brett," the boy answered, pulling his dark-skinned friend into an alley so they could talk. "You heard the Guildmaster talking to that girl. The boy those soldiers were hunting has returned. We already had our suspicions, but then I felt his presence."

The pair locked eyes for a few seconds until Brett's eyes widened, "You felt that… that thing he does with the air… like he did back at the Appraisal Ceremony?"

"Yes, I did, and it's a lot stronger now—like he's aware of it. I lived with him my whole life. He's here," Finn answered.

Brett mulled over the boy's words before clicking his tongue and tossing his hands up, "Oh, what the hell! Lead the way."

Finn took charge(again), following the sounds of battle. If anyone was causing a commotion, it had to be Alaric. This couldn't be a coincidence, considering everything that had happened after the Tower was attacked.

They weaved through the market and ventured onto a street leading into the higher neighbourhoods. Unfortunately, only a few of these neighbourhoods were still intact. Some brandished powerful aether-consuming barriers, trembling in the wake of the Steel Rank's aura while others stood abandoned and most times, damaged.

A wave of aether washed over the pair, sending chills down Finn's spine before he pulled Brett back into an alley. He needed to find another route. Going directly would only get them in danger. While he was eager to see his friend, he wasn't stupid enough to throw his life away. As they travelled, meeting dead-ends and braving the open road every once in a while, a voice stopped Finn in his tracks.

"Look around you, Matriarch. Your city is burning because of the Emperor you fear, when the one who will save you stands against a foe he cannot dream of defeating as he is now. He won't falter. He won't fall. He won't let people suffer just so that he can live. Why won't you help him?"

Finn heard these words phrased by a voice he knew all too well, and yet, something was wrong with it. It lacked the kindness he was used to, retaining a cunning calculating tone known to merchants and hagglers.

"Because I don't know how. I'm weak." Another voice countered, this one was softer and feminine, but also defeated, resigned, and hoarse, probably from crying.

"What is it?" Brett whispered, wondering why they'd stopped all of a sudden, "You better not be getting cold feet?"

"That voice… The boy. It sounds almost like him," Finn responded. Brett furrowed his eyebrows and tried to listen.

The voice came again, filled with so much conviction that Finn lost the distinction between Alaric and this 'imposter.'

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't truly believe that you could help us win this. You've met all the requirements to create a domain, plus you want to protect Melbourne. You're almost there."

For whatever reason this man had for speaking to this dishevelled woman, he truly believed she could help them turn the tide in this one-sided battle against a Steel Rank. Had this battle happened in the Five Hills or Jack's Fall, Finn wouldn't have batted an eyelash since those two places had S-grade Concealment Barriers on them.

Alia's aura still ranked high in the list of auras he'd been subjected to, and Steel Ranks were below it. That said, Melbourne didn't have such a barrier which meant Alia was incapable of helping.

'Alaric has a plan to defeat the Steel Rank…' Finn's mind lit up, connecting the dots.

Brett, on the other hand, was getting tired of being pulled around even though he wasn't complaining. If Finn's madness somehow got them out of this mess, he was more than willing to play bodyguard.

Finn peeked around the alley and couldn't believe the confident boy to be below Glass Rank, and addressing one as powerful as the woman in front of him. The situation was almost comical seeing as the powerful one was the one shaken out her wits.

Not wasting a second, he stepped out of hiding and cleared his throat, "Hello."

The woman turned her cold gaze on Finn who dropped to one knee instantly, submitting his respect for the woman to avoid being struck down. Brett did the same beside him, and for a short moment, the air seemed to tickle their skin as if contemplating whether they were worth dissecting.

"Two feeble Glass Ranks," she mused, "What are you doing here?"

"Fleeing," Finn responded, "That's what everyone's doing, though I don't understand where they are headed seeing as the demons have us surrounded."

They were like this for a bit before the pressure lessened, "And?"

The boy panicked, "I heard this boy's voice and thought I'd heard it somewhere."

"Dear Matriarch! I'd like you to meet Finn. He's a dear friend of mine, though I don't understand what how he's found himself in Melbourne," Alistair spoke up.

Finn wanted to ask how it was that Alaric came to look different, have no Temper Rank and sound like a merchant but that was a conversation for another time. "The Tower sent us a message about a stampede of demons. The Guardian Academy, as well as the Emperor's Army, seem to know nothing of it, so we came to take a look, then got trapped by this Dark Spell before we could send word for reinforcements."

At that, Alistair turned to the woman with a tight-lipped smile, "Looks like our other options just dropped off the table. Now, you're really our only hope."

The Matriarch turned her attention away from the newcomers only to spot a group of men in Red Cloaks at the end of the alley. A large man with a rotund belly wrapped in bandages held the unconscious body of a gray-haired man, grinning at the lot, "So this is where you've been hiding, dear Matriarch. Not so high and mighty with your city all in shambles now, are ya?"

Brett was suddenly between the two groups, his sword drawn and ready before anyone could blink. It happened instantaneously—like space had rewritten his very position within the blink of an eye.

Two men drew their swords and stood beside the Commander. "What did he just do?" Roan mused, "And at that Rank?"

"This city is full of overconfident brats. Hell, the other ones were Wood Rank. These ones are Glass rank," the Commander was clearly irritated by this. Temper Ranks meant everything when it came to power, but Melbourne had turned that rule upside down.

"Did you men learn nothing from our battle earlier?" Alistair hissed. The world didn't react to it, but the men did. Their expressions wavered and for a brief moment, it almost looked like they'd give up.

"All you taught us was to keep our guardians away," the Commander growled.

Finn smirked, "Because guardians are loyal to the Guardian Emperor."

The Commander drew his sword, "Speak that nonsense again and I'll cut your tongue out, vermin." Each one of the soldiers was ready to attack, summoning spells of all kinds, all aimed at Finn.

"Commander, I am in a bad mood today. As you mentioned earlier, my city is in shambles, and so is my tolerance. You're on your way out, just like everyone else. So, leave now or I will make you wish you had," the Matriarch warned, placing a gentle arm on a tense Brett. The hoarseness in her voice remained, but it didn't diminish her presence. If anything, her dishevelled state made her look and sound even more dangerous, like a mother bear barely clinging to her sanity after losing her cub. She added softly, "You might be Stone Rank but you're still a few levels short of challenging me. I won't ask you twice."

The men looked between her and the two Glass Ranks before clicking their tongues and leaving the way they came. Alistair steadied his breathing, remembering just how disrespectful he'd been to the woman a few moments ago, [ I think I almost wet myself. ]

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[ You lack that functionality. ] Alia sighed, [ Her tone was surprising though. I didn't think she still had it in her. ]

"Thank you," Alaric bowed slightly.

"Oh, raise your head, Alistair," the Matriarch chuckled, tearing up while she did, "I haven't felt that much alive in a while. You boys all have such radiant spirits, jumping into battles without a second thought, severely lacking any sense of self-preservation," the woman chuckled fondly, letting go of Brett's shoulder, "It reminded me of the snappy young lady I used to be, and of the strength I needed to get here. The same radiant spirit my daughter had before I…" The silence that punctuated her words said more than words could convey, "Might I ask a favour of you, Alistair?"

"Sure."

"After we make it through this, allow me to speak to my daughter one more time," the woman asked.

Alistair nodded, "I would never keep her from you… at least not forever. Melbourne will always be her home."

"Thank you," The Matriarch bowed, her pale beautiful face regaining some colour and a little spark of hope, "Now, what's this I hear about a Guardian Emperor? I've heard those words before, but only in myth."

…………………

"That's why you must die."

Alaric felt the dark mage's breath brush his ear and felt every hair in his body go up, his heart beating inside his ribcage like a war drum. The thundering heartbeat and deafening gut feeling of danger drowned out the pain of his crushed shoulder.

Vines exploded from the ground between them, laced with aether and whipping around so violently that they cut Alaric's cheek in the process. Avaros leapt back faster than the vines could keep up.

The man was unscathed, but Alaric didn't care.

He tapped into a faucet of Thomper's ability he thought he'd never use again, and started pushing his body into the tree bark behind him. Unfortunately, changing his body from flesh, blood and bone to vines was not as instantaneous as summoning a fireball or teleportation.

He needed time… time that he didn't have. His heart sank as only his back had made it into the tree. The woods were slowly waking up, but not fast enough.

Shadows curled around the Dark Mage before bursting outward in a whirlwind of black whips, decimating the vines in the process. Seeing Alaric's half-assimilated form, he tilted his head, "Trying to run away aga—"

Avaros looked up with a short gasp, his ears perking up. Alaric didn't know what he was listening for, but it was a good thing he was distracted as he was soon be fully merged with the tree, and the small forest along with it. One moment he was brainstorming a way to turn this battle around, and the next, he heard it, too.

A sharp whistling sound brimming with aether. Half a second afterwards, the sound multiplied, rising into a sharp cacophony like a flock of migrating birds with flutes for beaks.

Alaric barely saw it. Quicker than his eyes could follow, it fell like a ray of light sent from the heavens. A heavy clang rang through the woods as an arrow cut through Avaros's armour and glanced off his skin, leaving a shallow cut.

"Such a troublesome archer," he grumbled, "When I'm done here, I think I'll pay her a visit."

A moment later, the other arrows arrived, striking with lethal accuracy. A wall of shadows rose only to get shattered by two of them. Avaros shot out of the way whilst his shield was shattered, evading the volley.

The arrows that missed vanished, then appeared above the dark mage, raining down on him repeatedly. Each one that missed simply vanished and came back with a vengeance. Avaros put his hands forward and sent a wave of dark aether through the arrows, stopping them all in their tracks.

His teeth were gritted and sweat was falling from his brow when he heard yet another whistling sound. Alaric watched the next arrow shoot right past the others and struck the man's shoulder, piercing right through it and out.

The dark mage let out a yell as his hand went limp. With it down, his spell weakened, unleashing the fury of the arrows he'd been holding onto his body. Alaric had assumed his stylish armour to be at least Three-Star, seeing as when they'd fought, it only gave way when he layered his Spirit Vessel twice, but these arrows were much stronger.

When they struck, they tore through the armour like it was paper.

The boy, now one with the woods, watched Avaros get run through by at least a dozen arrows before he crumpled to the ground, blood spilling from his mouth. 'Those arrows are familiar.'

[ Darla's arrows… ] his guardian observed, [ They are stronger than before. ]

[ I should strike him down while he's still… ]

[ Don't even bother. If that man is anything like Darth, then a few dozen holes in his body won't keep him down. Restrain him with vines but keep your distance. The Matriarch has started making progress. ] Alia informed.

Her words brought some comfort to Alaric's beating heart. The memory of his crushed shoulder was still fresh in his mind. At the furthest edge of the woods, vines got to work on reconstructing a body for him while a new colony of them exploded around the wounded man and chained him to the ground.

Alaric kept his focus on both tasks. One second passed, then two… then three…

'Why am I building a body for myself?' it dawned on him. An escape route. A way out. That's what he was building even when there was no apparent danger in sight… Or was there?

Alaric stared back at the pod of vines holding down the Dark Mage and paled.

Black tainted the vines, taking all the control he had over them away from him. 'Those vines look familiar, he gasped, remembering a particular time in the woods when he'd saved Scarlett from a stampede of demons. Back then, her leg had got trapped by a vine much like these ones, only these vines started to move and convulse as something inside them emerged.

"You were there that day," Alaric gasped, "You tried to get Scarlett killed."

A loud resonant laughter filled the air as Avaros floated up into the air. His scaly armour was filled with holes, but his body was intact, "You're only catching up now, boy? How slow can you be?"

Alaric wanted to retort, but couldn't find his voice, "I'd tell you more, but that would take forever. Now come out of those woods, or I'll make you. I already know this trick."

When silence answered, the dark mage sighed and summoned a ball of black flames into his hands. Floating above the centre of the woods, he let the ball of flames fall, then detonate upon hitting the moist floor of the woods.

BOOM

Black flames flew outwards in a powerful explosion, eating up the woods in a tornado of fire. They burnt everything in sight, leaving nothing but sizzling tree trunks.

Alaric had tried to fight. The trees had convulsed and attacked the flames, wielding several protective charms feverishly conjured by Alaric's fleeing consciousness only to fall in the wake of the merciless flames.

It wasn't half a minute before Alaric was kicked out of the woods at the edge closer to the fence. His reconstructed body was sent flying by the force of the explosion. He rolled on the ground, coughing up black smoke and blood from his lungs. His hand was all better and there wasn't a hint of injury on his body except for the corrosive smoke he'd just escaped. His lungs were burning but he was fine. He could fight.

He drew a chain of bone from his bracelet and turned to face the Dark Mage floating high in the air. Avaros laughed hard, "This is hysterical. You still have the guts to face me after all that."

[ Alia! ] the boy called, but he already knew the answer. The guardian wasn't ready yet. She needed more time. Alaric looked up at the man and for the first time in a long time, he felt his body truly tremble with fear. He wanted to escape. He wanted to run away from here and return to the Five Hills.

'I don't want to die,' he squealed in his mind.

Alaric had never felt this scared to fight a human. He was usually confident in his abilities but this time, he didn't feel that way. This man was powerful and going against him was just foolish. And yet, Alaric knew what stood at his back.

A city of innocent people. He'd tried running before and a Cataclyst had been released. If Alaric tried to run, he'd never live with himself, and so he stood.

"You think too highly of yourself, Dark Mage," Alaric announced, shocking himself by coming off confident in spite of his fear. He stood tall with his blade facing upward. The only variation of the Dance of the Sword suited for this situation was one LionHeart had grown accustomed to using, the Dance of the Sentinel.

"I've seen that one already. The other Tower Protector used it. Such wasted talent!" Avaros sighed, "Why don't you show me what this big ring of aether can do? Do you mean to tell you gathered it all for no reason?"

Alaric stared between the dark mage and the floating halo of aether. Of course the halo of aether was capable of turning the tide in this battle, but any spell Alaric cast was quickly countered by the man's dark magic. But if the Dark Mage allowed Alaric to draw enough aether from the halo, then even simple fireballs would become explosives capable of damaging even steel.

Surely, Avaros wasn't so generous as to… Alaric's thoughts paused.

There it was again. His heart fluttered with hope and for a brief moment, he really did believe he had a chance of getting out this alive. It was just like Avaros had defined earlier. That warm feeling.

'The power to turn despair into hope,' Alaric thought to himself, 'No, he can probably do many other emotions. He just chooses to toy with his victims this way. By giving them hope, then relishing in the sight of crushing that hope. What a truly evil human!'

"Is that your Inborn Ability?" Alaric's voice echoed.

The bored look on Avaros's face vanished and Melbourne felt colder. Alaric smirked, 'Bullseye.'

The man appeared in front of Alaric a moment later, but Alaric was already behind him, his blade travelling faster than the Dark Mage had ever witnessed. The Bone Tiger's blade slashed his back, going along a breach in his armour from past battles, before he shot away, wincing at the pain.

'One.'

"Soul damage?" the Dark Mage seethed, gritting his teeth in pain, "How many tricks do you have up your sleeve?"

"Why don't you come here and find out?" Alaric responded.

When the dark mage stepped in, moving faster than any human could follow, Alaric circled him, staying three steps ahead and striking with brute force. This time, Avaros put his vambrace in the way to block the attack.

The explosive force of the attack, backed by Spirit Layering, pummeled him into the ground. Alaric kept moving, going for the kill. He pressed the blade down and a thick miasma surrounded it, holding it in the air above Avaros's open palms. The dust cleared to reveal a struggling dark mage on the ground, holding the blade with nothing but his magic.

"The Three-Cut Bone Tiger," he grunted, "So the rumours were true. You refused to sell the blade. Do you even know its worth?"

Aether stirred in the large halo, shooting for the rune circle on Alaric's back. With one loud yell, Alaric replenished his aether and pushed the blade down into the dark mage's palm, cutting through.

'One cut left…' Alaric thought to himself as he jumped back. Avaros was up in a heartbeat, and he was moving fast. Alaric's heartbeat echoed like a drum, loud and heavy, stunning him with fatigue. His muscles stiffened, and his breath hitched. His lungs burned, and his eyes watered.

'Not now…'

Time slowed as the Dark Mage shot for the boy's chest, shadows coiling around his hand to form a blade. Alaric had, by some odd miracle, managed to cut him twice despite his superior Temper Rank, which meant this small, insignificant boy could really kill him in just one more strike. His soul was screaming in pain as well, ravaged by the destructive soul-reaping power of the meddlesome blade.

He had to finish this now while the boy was still regaining his balance. Alaric's body was still, gripping his sword, getting ready to parry but not moving fast enough, and yet something still wasn't right.

But that didn't matter.

Avaros wasn't about to risk his life fighting some Wood Rank nobody, so he shot forward, his murderous intent leaking out for the first time as he focused every fibre of his being on cutting the boy's neck open. It didn't matter that the boy's white armour happened to be Three-Star. He was a Steel Rank. Only Four-Star armour would pose a problem, so he thrust his shadow blade forward.

BOOM! rang an explosion.

One moment, Avaros was going to kill the boy, and the next, his body was flying through the air, crashing straight through a log cabin at the edge of the burnt woods.

The space in front of the boy rippled, and a wave of aether burst out, boiling with seething rage. From the rift, Alaric's guardian stepped out.