Reflections on the Warpath - [An Isekai Progression Fantasy]

A curtain of ethereal grey swords whipped across Lyra's vision.

All potential futures her fight might take.

Her head throbbed from within as she tore through each of Ezekiel's twins. One vanished every second yet ten more took their places at the forefront of Lyra's troubled mind.

On the journey to the exit hub, Jay had told her all he knew about Ezekiel's new sword and its abilities. The information allowed her twin foresight to work.

The splitting pain tearing through her forehead made her almost wish it didn't.

No.

Push harder.

You can't afford to be weak.

A twin of her own gracefully stepped out from Lyra's physical body. It wielded an axe and rapier, yet its fists burned with an explosive orange glow. The twin ran forward, slicing through swathes of potential Ezekiels, severing those futures from reality and easing the burden on Lyra's mind.

The twin thrust its ethereal rapier forward, spearing through every future where Ezekiel dodged her axe.

More orange light bled from the twin's axe. Smouldering coals of pure rage repressed by an even greater anger. One that wanted Ezekiel and Amaya to suffer at her hands.

Whatever the cost.

Twin Lyra swung at Ezekiel's neck.

The Soulsnatcher lunged forwards. Deflecting the axe as he closed in on the twin.

His potential futures vanished. From this position, he had only one option.

But Lyra couldn't do anything to stop it.

The whip-like sword shrank into a dagger. Ezekiel drove it into his opponent's gut, slicing through her ethereal body until the faint outlines dissipated.

Ezekiel glared back at Lyra, and dozens more futures sprung to life.

"Give me more!" screamed Ezekiel. His sword rapidly extended as he slapped it into the ground like a cattle whip.

"Give me more. Give me more. GIVE ME MORE!"

The sword sliced through the grass at his feet, flinging it into the air.

Lyra kept still. Watching each future. Preparing to attack.

"I didn't get the joy of snatching the life from Vega Twinstrike's eyes," spat Ezekiel. "I saved that pleasure for my lady. You will make it up for me, won't you Lyra? I want to kill you over, and over, and over, again. Hopefully you're not as pathetic as your sister."

Lyra exhaled through gritted teeth, her surface level anger quietened by the icy rage beneath it.

He's trying to provoke me into an attack.

Why?

Lyra dropped her guard slightly. She still postured, but had no intent of attacking.

Ezekiel's twins vanished.

He wasn't planning an attack either.

But why?

Lyra pressed forward. If Ezekiel was trying to provoke her into leading the fight, there had to be a reason. She didn't think the swordsman had the brains to hold back unprompted.

That only made her more worried.

She swiped at Ezekiel with her rapier, the real one this time, and an ethereal arm deflected his whipping counterattack just after.

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Is he… stalling me?

I thought Amaya said make it quick…

A lie?

Stalling would make sense in Ezekiel's position. With their side's numbers advantage, a drawn out battle favoured him and Amaya, especially if Lyra skewed the odds against Jay and Akira by entering a duel alone.

But Lyra found it hard to believe Ezekiel would willingly wait instead of immediately trying to kill her.

Unless Amaya told him to…

Lyra swiped her axe at Ezekiel's ribcage. He blocked. She slid her axe past his sword, hooking it in her axe's crook and pulling apart his guard. A twinned axe swung for the gap.

Ezekiel leapt back. His sword liquefied, snaking around Lyra's axe and returning to his side.

He wagged his finger at her, face warped with an infuriating sneer.

"Maybe you are just as pathetic. Vega was far more fun than you."

Don't let him control you.

Regardless of his motivations or goals, Lyra knew by now that Ezekiel wasn't going to gift her an opening. Unless he took an unnecessary risk, she had no way of landing a hit on him.

She only needed one hit to win, but it didn't look like she was going to get it.

Her style had none of Akira's sweeping, undodgeable attacks or Jay's explosive unpredictability.

Her style was calculated. Safe. Composed.

And right now it was useless.

Again, the ice-cold anger quelled her mind.

She didn't need to defeat Ezekiel; she needed to kill him.

Behind her, Akira held strong against three opponents. The gladiators kept his strikes at bay but struggled to land a clean blow on the young samurai.

Streaming darts of fire and ash no longer pelted him from the treeline. A red glow flashed from inside the jungle before the resounding clang of metal on metal rang out into the clearing.

Future possibilities swirled around Lyra's mind. She hounded through them, hunting for one where Ezekiel and Amaya ended up dead.

Lyra screamed as she charged forward again. Ezekiel didn't bother hiding his satisfied grin as he raised his sword in defence.

An ethereal twin ran out of Lyra's body, it led the charge before another one joined it.

Both spectral Lyras relentlessly attacked the cackling Ezekiel.

Lyra wanted to join them.

She wanted him dead even more.

Instead of rushing forward, she turned towards Akira. He caught her eye for a split second and launched into an acrobatic flurry.

In almost every one of their scrimmages, Akira's flamboyant fighting style dragged their opponents' attention towards himself. He didn't always intend for it, like he was doing now, yet it always happened. As if his Harmony itself pulled their eyes towards him.

Lyra loved using her friend's pull to great effect. Because if all eyes were on Akira, none were on her.

Varro the Howler was the closest of the three gladiators. Lyra knew his strengths, weaknesses, and strategies inside out, along with the other two gladiators enraptured by Akira's tornado-like attack.

She knew that he favoured dodging to the left after sustaining an injury to his right knee two months ago. She knew he fought with bare hands that morphed into primal claws, and that he'd fought at the Shattered Cages just once, before spotting her and never returning.

She needed none of that information to stab through his heart while he was transfixed on avoiding Akira's swords. The useless knowledge drifted from her memory as the man's bestial corpse slid off her rapier and slumped onto the grass.

Akira rolled his neck side to side after completing his final spin. He clenched his jaw, forcing the world back into focus as he regained his bearings. A sweat-soaked strand of hair drooped in front of his left eye, swept free from the bun he'd tightly tied before the fight.

Three figures still surrounded him.

One had a body slumped at her feet.

Akira ran towards Lyra. He turned his back to her, trusting her to watch his flank.

"You're finally back," said Akira. "One down. Thanks for evening out the numbers."

Lyra didn't respond.

One of the gladiators leapt forward.

Akira shifted to Lyra's side, raising both his swords.

His vision cleared. The world snapped back into focus as a sickle-like sword swung for his neck.

It's Azrin.

Play it safe.

Akira blocked the oncoming blade with Juryoku, poking at Azrin's neck with Jiki, his longer sword.

It slashed through his jugular, launching a spurt of crimson blood over the forest grass.

Akira blinked.

Azrin was still ten paces away from him.

Neck: unscathed.

Grass: bloodless.

Akira took a quick breath, he nudged Lyra's elbow and pointed Juryoku forward.

"That's Azrin the Shimmerblade. He fights with illusions but isn't too dangerous unless you fall for one."

"I know," said Lyra. "If I leave now, can you kill Ezekiel alone?"

Akira snapped his head aside.

Lyra matched his stare. Her obsidian eyes locked onto his. Akira saw nothing past them except icy resolve.

A flicker of light wrenched Akira's attention back to his opponents. Draeven hurled a crystal trident his way.

Akira intercepted the attack, catching the prongs with Juryoku and pushing the trident aside. A second one shot his way before Lyra crushed it mid-air with her axe.

Again, she met Akira's eyes with an unflinching stare.

"What the hell are you talking about, Lyra?" said Akira, checking where Azrin stood before pressing his back against Lyra's. "I'm barely holding on as it is. Jay's keeping Amaya and the snipers from blowing me up. Without you dealing with Ezekiel, I'm done for."

Lyra tugged at his shoulder and spun him to face her.

"Remember our goal, Akira. I'm going after Amaya.

"Can you kill him?"

Akira turned around again.

He couldn't face Lyra like this.

He knew what she was asking of him.

Ezekiel whipped his sword through the necks of both ethereal Lyras.

He licked his scarred lips and began running towards them.

Jiki's weight dug into Akira's palm as he clenched it tightly. Juryoku, his oldest ally, stuck to his grip as he raised the polished steel blade above his head.

"Yeah… I think I can."