Rising Kite - A story from the world of HWFWM

The descending sword-club impacted with a reverberating humming sound when it met the interposing staff, even as Kite’s gauntleted fist struck out to impact the face of the attacker’s monstrous mount. The attacker was a short humanoid with bright red skin and bestial features, instantly recognizable as similar to the beings that the adventurers had faced before, summoned by the blood cultists.

Kite’s attacker was a taller, more brutish looking specimen which was bronze rank and rode mounted atop some kind of slick, red beast of exposed muscles, who mostly resembles a combination between a flayed wolf and a shark. Its rider had reins of what looked more like braided red veins which emerged from its shoulders and into the beast below, and from their suspiciously unified aura Kite wondered if it was even correct to think of them as separate beings.

It was armed with primitive weaponry like most if its lesser kind, a horde of which was currently doing battle with the supporting adventurer teams in the forests around them, the light of early day reaching down through the canopies to clash with the chaotic light of essence-users doing battle below. Their foe’s armaments mostly resembled a piece of bone from an alien anatomy with some kind of crude red metal spikes growing in irregular rows along its length to form a kind of piercing reinforcement of the simple weapon.

His companions all fought close by in a loose formation around Serene as there were opponents in all directions, Will and Dragonfly going through their usual rampage through multitudes of lesser iron-ranked foes as Kite engaged the bronze-ranked one. While embroiled in their own small pocket of madness, the forests around them often shook from the multiple silver-ranked conflicts that were taking place, potent powers shaking the landscape and adding to the shifting lights.

When his fist met the side of the bestial mount’s face, he unleashed the stored power absorbed from parrying with his staff for some additional impact, his strength-enhancing armor further enhancing the blow to knock its head to the side. The beast pivoted with great speed and attempted to pounce at Kite, its front claws bearing down on the young man. Having predicted the move, Kite had already sidestepped the motion but still had to contend with another downward slash from above as the monster’s rider took its opportunity.

“Ward!”

A barrier, albeit a lot smaller than usual appeared to intercept the crude weapon, showing only small signs of impact as Kite’s timing and Heaven-and-Void Warding's bronze-rank upgrade both came into play. While he hadn’t yet stretched the size-changing capabilities to their limits, Kite had still begun experimenting on a smaller scale and adjusting the ward more after the attack. It required more precision on his part, but the increased durability was worth it.

He also took the opportunity to capitalize on another perk of the evolved shielding-ability as his spear appeared in his hand to make a retaliatory strike, its tip piercing even the bronze-rank toughness of his foe as his evolved racial gift had already worked a bit on this particular enemy. The counterattack was made with surprising ease as the smaller ward left Kite a lot more room to make an attack of his own. Earlier in his career, the size of the barrier had often made counterattacks awkward unless he could intercept the strikes with his ward angled to either side. But now, Kite could be more offensive even in his defense, a much needed perk as he knew his enemies would only grow in complexity.

Unfortunately for Kite’s foe, the forward momentum of its mount only drove Kite’s strike further inside its body, Unyielding leaving the young man strangely unmoved for a short while by the colliding forces until his iron-ranked strength could no longer retain his hold on the weapon. Letting go of the spear, Kite instead brought out his staff once more, using the spinning motion of following his opponent to transition into a swing. His intent carried the strike to his target, the rippling impact striking just a moment later in a small spark of transcendent light as his dispelling strike failed to affect anything, leading to Undeniable making itself known. Staggering under the first blow, the rider shook once more as the effect echoed even as Kite’s throwing star, sent as a follow up, hit it again.

While the thrown weapon itself had little effect, it was just the nudge needed for Kite’s evolved racial ability to finish its work in bringing his foe down to Kite’s level, at least in terms of rank advantages.

“It is done! First one to be done with theirs can take it.” he called even as he re-engaged his foe to continue bludgeoning it. Through his active perception power, he could see both Will and Dragonfly intensify their efforts with the small ones. The noble came out on top this time, dispatching his last foe before being carried off on a wave of conjured spears toward the bronze-ranked monster.

While his tone had been casual, Kite was still thankful for the intervention as the rider and mount had redoubled their efforts in killing him with a flurry of concerted attacks. He tried being proactive but was pushed more on the defensive as a twin attack by weapon and fang had him deflect the descending weapon with a barrier but not timing his own parry as well, which led to a pair of jaws crunching down on his armor, the stone crumbling beneath its higher-ranked strength and putting a painful pressure on Kite’s lower arm as a few teeth also punched through to draw blood.

The bronze-ranked rider didn’t get the chance to punish him further as five golden javelins hit it, followed by Will himself as the elf was launched from his wave of spears into a leaping thrust.

“Heavenly Shaft; Thrusts of Exalted Celerity!” Will shouted as his speartip seemed to become legion, showering the rider with puncture-wounds as its one weapon and lack of special abilities made it unable to deflect more than a few of the strikes.

Even while he continued the barrage, Will stayed in the air next to the rider as he constantly stepped sideways on new conjured javelins which appeared hovering horizontally in the air before launching themselves into his foe as soon as he had stepped off them.

Kite’s theory that the rider and mount were deeply connected got confirmed as the beast seemed very distracted by the pain of its rider, giving Kite the opportunity to plunge a katar into the skull of the beast before unleashing a shockwave throughout its body. The resonating force wasn’t optimal against flesh, but tore through the skeleton of the monster well enough.

It wasn’t long until the rider and beast fell under the duo’s attacks, bereft of its bronze-ranked damage resistance. Serene hadn’t been idle during the struggle, and Kite’s injured arm was already as good as new under her ministrations. The group took stock as Dragonfly finished her last foe, bloodied but charged up as she wore her usual fierce grin and inner glow, looking like a mix between a young goddess of bloodshed and a maniac.

All around them, the forest was in turmoil, rather different from when they had arrived. The trip westward had been tense, the group of silver-rankers taking point in a wedge in front of their band. Just shy of a day away from their forward positions, they encountered their enemies. It was grand elder Sight, who had been acting as scout, who had forewarned them of the inbound enemies; a screen of summoned blood monsters where she had detected the enemies main forces behind it.

Now, the main adventurer force was right in the middle of said monsters, after their silver-rankers had shot ahead while creating a grand line of carnage. From what Kite could see through the forest, many of the teams were still engaged, finishing up their first foes or in the process of carrying wounded back toward the healer’s station set up at the rear of their force. Further westward, the grand clashes had begun as the silver-rankers of each side engaged one another, their conflict felt both in the physical and spiritual as mere remnants of their auras reached all the way over to Kite’s position. If he had thought that the battlefield where the scout platoon had made its stance was chaotic, this was in a league of its own.

“We need to move south in relief.” Grim said to them after returning from shredding a group of summoned monsters on his own while indicating combat which still seemed to be in full swing in that direction. “Walker, can you screen us from being tied down as we move?”

“This old man should be able to handle it.” Walker’s voice responded from the nearby foliage before vanishing once more, but as the group followed Grim’s command they could see his presence as there seemed to be a localized rain of cutting leaves from the foliage which was moving around and dispersing groups of summons which might intercept them.

They all knew that these monsters weren’t the enemy’s true strength, and were leery of wasting too much of their energy on the fodder. While the summons wouldn’t be endless, they would still keep coming as long as their enemies had the materials and ritualists for it. Kite had already glimpsed a red flare in the distance to indicate one of the smaller circles, but they had not been close enough to change course toward it.

Even as the group leapt into battle once more in assistance of a more beleaguered team of allies, Kite couldn’t help reflecting over how different he had become over the past year. Here he was, charging through a battlefield in aid of allies, and while he felt the fear-mixed thrill tempered by his combat meditation, it was still both manageable and under control.

He knew how to do this now. This was his life. And even as he conjured a force wall to protect a flank, where a wounded adventurer was being carried back towards their medical station, while simultaneously unleashing a wide swing with a greatsword carrying a trail like a spatial tear to cleave through one monster and into the next, Kite felt purpose. While it was nothing near perfection, he felt that he was skirting around the edge of being present all over the battle. A conjured barrier to block a swing against a companion’s back, engaging a charging trio of enemies even while taking the short moment to use his evolved racial gift to intercept yet another attack which he had spotted through his all-round vision.

This was his element now, the foundations of his path soon complete to become his stepping stone into the true supernatural. Even as the battle and violence were horrifying and intense, Kite was also breaking his limits. And that part felt good.

“Is this what being battle-mad is like?” part of his mind idly wondered even as most of his attention was focused on exchanging strikes with two of the savage monsters. “I guess Dragonfly and Will have rubbed off on me.”

Dancer on the Broken River was leading her group of battle thralls in a circuitous route around the general area where the silver-rankers had started clashing. Even through the thick layer of branches and leaves, she could see a sect warrior carried on wings of viridian flames crash into a wall of wailing specters as he tried to close the distance with Collector of Anima’s now flying palanquin as she had foregone the zombies carrying it around for spectral servants.

Her father’s last words still remained clear in her mind.

“Prove your path now, progeny, and make sure that my investments in you haven’t been a waste. True dominance can only be reached through excellence.” Grand elder White had told her before charging ahead along with the rest of their silver-rankers. It was a humbling thought that even he, the unflinching domineering Unmaker of the White Seal, would have his path tested as well. Even though River knew that there were places in the world where a silver-ranker was but one of many, her father had always stood at the pinnacle of her world. She would prove herself worthy.

Amongst the trees ahead of them, their enemies already fought the summoned chaff. While it had irked some of the sect’s proud warriors, River had understood the same truth as her father; they needed every advantage. Even if all of their essence-users were elites, which they most certainly were not, they had still lived in hiding outside of conventional means of accessing societal resources. But the impurity of the weak would be purged in this conflict. River wanted to remain adamant in that conviction, but the nebulous doubts had not left her.

Fortunately, battle washed away such concerns as River’s group, along with others from all the factions and paths of the Unbreakable Chains sect, started arriving to clash with the adventurers. And in choosing such battles, River showed no mercy.

“Standard assault protocol.” she told her thralls while deciding to make her own way into the battle. Her swift and dance essences made it child’s play to spring up into the trees and move along the many branches like a graceful ghost, already trailing chains which hung in the air behind her. Below, the battle-thralls charged into the fray, pressuring the adventurers even more.

As she closed in with her foes from her vantage, one of the adventurers was perceptive enough to notice River as she was almost close enough to strike. The iron-ranked woman, clad in the robes of the Victorious Sunset sect, raised her hands and started shooting a torrent of small fireflies which trailed River during her advance, even course-correcting a bit to seek her. Where the projectiles met a leaf or branch, they simply punched a glowing hole before being extinguished.

River sent a few chains of her own streaming out toward her opponent, the conjured links colliding with a flaming barrier. But River’s lips twitched ever so slightly towards a smirk as the chain she had sent snaking down the trunk of the tree and along the ground caught hold of the sect student’s left foot. As the sensation of pain was delivered through the links, they constricted around the young woman’s ankle and yanked her forcibly off her feet, the rest of River’s chains descending along with their mistress to strike.

Her armored boot landed firmly in the woman’s stomach, followed by the air leaving her lungs and sounds of retching. To her slight frustration, she did not have time to properly subdue her target as one of the other adventurers had spotted River and charged to the aid of his companion. Springing off from the prone initiate, River began her dance as she weaved below his sword strike, a painful jab of two fingers as a parting shot before continuing onward. As she had hoped, the two bronze-rankers accompanying the group were hard pressed to keep both the summons and River’s thralls at bay, leaving her free to weave her tapestry of conjured links through their ranks even as the swordbearer chased her.

As one of the adventurer’s bronze-rankers went down, the other seemed to lose his nerve where he fought above his companion’s now prone form. Creating some room with a circling sweep of his scythe, the man took a moment to produce something from a dimensional pouch before a magical flare shot through the air to hang above them, casting a bright blue light.

River’s eyes thinned slightly as she continued to dance among the iron-ranked backline. These ones apparently did not trust in their paths much, as she assumed that the flare had been a call for aid. Still, with the chaotic fighting around them, the chances of such aid arriving in time were slim as would-be rescuers would probably be held up by the bands of blood-minions their Red Table allies had brought forth.

Dodging another arcing sword slash while sending a few chains to further pummel the initiate she had dropped at her entrance to the fight, River decided it was time to reverse the initiative a bit. One of her chains snaked out and around a nearby tree before coming back to snare the man’s sword arm, locking it in place while a few other rattling lengths unleashed a flurry of attacks, the gray steel now having a red-purple flickering light playing over them. Even as he tried to dodge to the best of his ability, his ensnared arm hampered him too much. Each hit sent his muscles spasming and drained his stamina in addition to the tenderizing blunt force trauma. Pirouetting in close, River struck his chest with an open palm, her victim too overwhelmed by her stacking afflictions to properly defend against the blow.

The strike launched him away a lot more than it ought to have from River’s strength alone, carrying her generated momentum from the start of the fight. Half limp, he flopped over the ground once before tumbling into a few of River’s trailing chains, the links instantly entangling him. Feeling that it was as good a time as any to mop things up in the backline, she activated another of her special attacks. Chains suddenly constricted around the fight, entangling the swordsman further in addition to the woman who had just started shakily regaining her feet. River almost felt a bit disappointed by the relative lack of challenge from these sect initiates, but tried to not let her get complacent as she turned towards the fight with the minions and her thrall.

To her slight consternation, she saw that the remaining bronze-ranker had still managed to hold firm, sweeping scythe even bringing down one of the iron-ranked thralls while his iron-ranked companions held off the summons and others. He was hard pressed, however, and she meant to add further to his burdens. His would be a glorious last stand there in the early day light, rust-colored leaves falling around him as he defended his companions. But as with almost all such stands, they were ultimately for naught.

But to her thorough consternation, she didn’t get the time to join in spelling doom for the lone bronze-ranker. Because there had apparently been a group of adventurers close enough to intervene.

The scenically falling leaves suddenly started moving on their own, picking up the distinct glow of mana as their edges grew sharp and their normally languid movement suddenly became more forceful and direct. They were joined by more and more until there was a small storm of petals and leaves which cut into the monsters. Through that storm, a lone arrow shimmering with a kind of magical pulses River recognized sailed over the chaotic mess of fighting bodies. Not toward River herself, but the cluster of chains crushing the two initiates who barely had any stamina left by that time. She tried interposing one of her chains, but not even her speed could intervene with the fast projectile, her reaction speed still in the iron rank.

Even as the arrow hit, shards of glass started lancing through more of the summons, and at that moment River made a choice.

“Disperse and regroup. Second protocol.” she said, voice accompanied by her aura touching that of her thralls as she moved into a position more optimal for gathering up in between a gathering of trees and a large, mossy boulder. One of her bronze-rank thralls even took a wise initiative and deployed a noxious smoke screen, same as the last time the group had fallen back, among the summons and the first group of adventurers before disengaging to rejoin River. Two of her bronze-rankers and two iron-rankers still remained, not counting River herself.

At their departure, the close combat became even more of a mess before a powerful gust of wind from a spell washed over the melee, dispersing the lingering fog.

Even as the cutting plants finished off the last of the blood-minions, River got confirmation that she indeed recognized the group of adventurers which came bursting out of the forest. The wild one with the fiery axe and the bold one with the spears. The older elf with the glass spells and the human man with the leaf blade, albeit the latter missing one arm. In its stead, he had woven a facsimile of the arm from plant matter, mostly green vines over sturdier roots. River also knew that the singing celestine should be around, spotting her at the back of the group now that she already knew what to look for. Her father’s training would not allow her to be bested even by her aura strength. And finally, the annoying one, still clad in the same stone armor. Apparently, a bow was part of his arsenal as well.

“Protocol seven.” River said to her gathered group, done with taking stock even as the adventurers formed up as a screen between her group and the injured and beaten, who in turn started assisting one another in a slow retreat. She had already sensed more groups of summoned minions heading their way through the woods, and knew that she had to engage them quickly before they realized the same and retreated as well. After all, River had a second bout to go with these particular adventurers.

During the time since Kite had begun his career as an adventurer, he had learned to trust his senses and instincts. That was why he had launched the arrow as soon as he had even glimpsed the chain, his subconscious instantly recognizing that it was a power he already knew.

Now that they had reached the point from where the flare originated, there was no doubt that this was indeed the group that had ambushed them back in the undead outpost. At least some of them. The young woman with the almost translucent hair still led them, clad in the same slate gray armor as the rest of them. If possible, her gaze was even more adamant as they locked eyes this time. Kite also recognized the bronze-ranker with the gauntlets and the lightning powers, along with one of the remaining iron-rankers that he had never fought during their last exchange.

“Retreat with your wounded. We will cover you.” He heard Grim say behind him, speaking to the remaining bronze-ranker from the group which had launched the flare.

“Heavens bless you, outcasts. I will not forget this.” said the man carrying the scythe before he and the remaining warriors of the Victorious Sunset sect collected their wounded and fell back towards the medical station.

No more words were exchanged as both remaining groups went on the offensive, glass shards, javelins and leaf-projectiles meeting bolts of lightning and globs of poison. Closing the distance, Kite chose to lead with a spell that had so far been tough to utilize well in the chaotic environment.

“Dissolve the patterns of power!”

As the ripple shot out over their opponents, swallowing several projectiles as it crossed the distance, Kite saw with some satisfaction how some magical effects winked out of existence on the group of adversaries. He had been disappointed to find out that the summons from this kind of grand ritual seemed more resistant to his dispelling wave, merely being destabilized instead of winking out completely. Having it make a difference now felt good.

Then they were upon each other, Kite wading into melee along with Dragonfly, Will and uncle Walker while Grim and Serene stayed behind to support them in their rather opposing ways, one dealing death while the other tried to stave it off.

As if drawn in by mutual agreement, Kite once more found himself beset by chains from multiple directions as blade and barrier appeared to intercede.

“I do believe that we never introduced ourselves.” he managed to state in small gaps of the furious exchange which followed. “I am Kite flown in on Winds of Fortune. While your path carries strength, I cannot respect its source.”

The young woman seemed to decide to ignore him at first, but after another flurry of chains had been deflected by a deftly wielded barrier, she seemed to have changed her mind.

“I am Dancer on the Broken River, disciple of the Unbreakable Chains sect and daughter of grand elder Unmaker of the White Seal. You will soon know why my path is undeniable.”

Then she came at him again, four chains arcing in while she aimed several jabs and punches at his joints and face. As before, Kite’s opponents struck from enough vectors that he simply couldn’t deal with them all and still counterattack in any meaningful way, forcing him to take a few hits and the accompanying pain which tried to slow his reactions and speed.

Gritting his teeth, Kite counterattacked. The swift jabs of a katar forced her to weave to the side, only to be met by a swipe of his greatsword. As she leapt back to create a little more distance, Kite instead continued the offensive with his spear, thrusting and sweeping to keep her nimble steps on the defensive just a bit more. She eventually broke his rhythm, leaping and even using a power to shift in the air, avoiding the throwing star which had been flicked at her as a response.

Which was just what Kite had been waiting for. Still closing in on him, leading with a kick and the usual flanking chain-strikes, she had apparently not expected him to suddenly swing his staff through the air just for the impact to reach her a mere moment later, accompanied by a small burst of spatial tears from Void-Sunders-Firmament which ripped through her armor . His opponent’s momentum was reversed by the powerful strike, leaving a small trail of blood from where she flew backwards, tumbling once on the forest floor before regaining her feet as the chains shot up to the branches above to steady her.

There was a certain amount of satisfaction in having dealt the first serious blow so far during their exchanges, but that satisfaction was curtailed by the fact of how hard he had to work to take her by surprise, even baiting out her airborne movement power. He also thought that she had sensed the attack, although still unable to do something about it other than activate some kind of damage negation. Kite would not surprise her with that move again.

The short break in their impromptu duel also let Kite notice something else. His opponent's midriff had been exposed as his rending void had sundered a lot of her armor in that location. Through the blood and bits of clothing, he could still see that her stomach was covered in scars. The thin lines were orderly, almost forming a symmetrical pattern in the small areas he could see. Kite had thought that essence-users could not get scars.

Around them, the battle of the others were in full swing as well. Uncle Walker had also returned to his previous opponent, the woman with the lightning powers. But where their exchange had been quite even the last time, Brave Walker of Paths showed what it was like to battle him in his own element. It was as if the land itself aided him in his movements while hindering his opponent, and more and more of the falling leaves from above were joining his growing storm of sharp petals which harried his opponent even as she had to struggle more to keep his sword at bay.

Dragonfly was engaging the other bronze-ranker, who fared little better as the spellcaster was forced toe to toe with the literally glowing young woman. With ranking up, Dragonfly’s regenerative ability had taken a leap which meant that the gradual damage of poison was ramping her up constantly while mostly being curtailed by the increased regeneration, especially as the rank up had also come with increased resistance to effects which would block her healing.

Will was the one pressed the most as he was engaging the remaining two iron-rankers, one fighting with a pair of conjured butterfly swords while the other wielded a spear of her own which seemed to dance and move like an angry snake. However, the support from Grim meant that they had a hard time flanking the young scion, as it would leave them more exposed to Grim’s pinpoint spells.

The older elf found himself unable to leverage his area effects in the melee, but could still cast small lances of glass with impressive precision to interrupt or wound his beleaguered opponents. Especially the enemy iron-rankers had to be very wary of the manservant’s opportune interventions.

And Serene remained the constant part of the background who continued to compound the group’s effectiveness and shift battles in their favor while projecting words to her allies to better coordinate their individual efforts

The whole fight allowed them to show how the long days of taking on war contracts together and what being baptized in battle alongside one another could do for their growth, and Kite could see it all through his encompassing vision even as he and his foe, Dancer on the Broken River, closed on one another once more.

River activated one of her defensive powers, seemingly speeding up and moving faster than the eye could follow as the familiar’s energy beam tore through the air where she had just been. Even as she and the annoying one, Kite flown in on Winds of Fortune, kept each other in check without further significant damage from either party River had to acknowledge the fact that her squad was losing on all other fronts. The young man that was her opponent did not carry fortune to her, that was for certain. And his newly awakened ability, whatever it was, also evened out the playing field between them just a bit more.

After the initial surprise blow, he had taken to instead weaving the enhanced strikes in between ordinary, keeping her guessing which blows would strike normally and which would be carried through the distance. At close range, noticing the difference before it was too late was very hard even for her sharp aura senses. This meant that even as she kept damaging him, his constant removal of her boons never let her reach the dominance she was striving for. She was still quite sure that her fighting skills were greater and more refined than his, but those alone were not enough to let her rise above his meddling.

When the first of her iron-ranked thralls fell, a glass shard all but tearing off his neck, while she also sensed a fresh batch of summoned minions draw near, she made the decision

“Protocol nine.” she ordered, continuing to pressure her young opponent. As one, the rest of her thralls shifted positions, even accepting some glancing hits to do so. A moment later, her bronze ranker with the lightning powers clapped her hands together, causing a wave of pressure to burst out from her and throwing everyone away. Only River’s opponent wasn’t flung meters away, even though he was pushed about half that distance with feet digging furrows in the ground. Even though the ability had hit them all, River’s thralls had positioned themselves well enough so that the blast at least scattered them in a similar direction while the adventurers were split up.

Twirling in the air to land on her feet, River took off running, leading her thralls in another retreat although she had to curtail her speed or leave the one iron-ranker behind. Through her own expanded vision, she saw her foe’s lips move in a spell chant, realizing that the choice was about to be taken from her.

“Go! Maximum speed!” she shouted, already sprinting ahead while just narrowly getting away from the cage of force walls which appeared, the four walls encircling the iron-ranked thrall and her bronze-ranked poison spellcaster. A moment later, the cage was filled with a familiar torrent of glass shards, shredding those within. The iron-ranker died within moments, already spent from the battle, but the more powerful thrall managed to leap out of the cage before succumbing, aided by an earthen barrier which took the brunt of the myriad cuts.

Between the trees ahead of them, she saw the small horde of red-skinned monstrous humanoids come charging. At least something had gone right in that their chaotic reinforcements had arrived as planned, although she had hoped it would be to confirm victory rather than screen their retreat. Making sure to project her aura so as to not have the summoned minions attack her group, River led the two remaining bronze-ranked thralls into the oncoming group of blood-minions. The adventurers hadn’t chosen to pursue after their attempt at catching them failed, choosing the wiser path of readying themselves for the monstrous wave.

She took one last look back at the group who were already sending attacks into the oncoming wave. River had to admit a grudging respect for them, which made her desire to see them crushed before her feet only grow. She would retreat for now, to gather reinforcements and receive new orders. And she would make sure they would meet again, if not on this battlefield then the next.

With those thoughts occupying her mind, River disappeared into the forests even as the larger conflicts shaking the area were picking up in intensity. Even as a myriad of smaller exchanges and battles were fought in the surrounding woods, it was the battles of the mighty that truly shook the lands and would paint the broader strokes of its future.