Rising Kite - A story from the world of HWFWM

“Thank you, dear!” branch director Carmella Dobrazza said with a wink to the young functionary, the poor normal-ranked woman unable to help her blush at the smolder’s intense presence.

“Carmella, you still got it,” she thought, a pleased smile playing over her lips as the flustered functionary bowed and almost stumbled over herself when leaving the director’s office. Director Dobrazza took the delivered small box in hand, checked her different dimensional pouches then made to leave herself. “Not every day that the old branch director finds a reason to come out and shake the ash from her shoulders.”

Her idle smile soon faded, however, as she felt a pair of bronze-ranked auras close in on her office at a sprint, both projecting clear urgency. Dobrazza beat them to it, throwing open the double doors to reveal Azure Devil, her most trusted agent, Phiona Geller in tow. Both of them carried the swift essence, their speed at that moment almost rivaling Dobrazza’s own.

“Director! He’s gone! They took him!” Phiona all but shouted, the normally composed woman projecting a hitherto unmatched level of intensity.

“I took her straight to you, director,” Azure said. “We were in the middle of preparing the operation when she all but flew past us.”

“They struck already? Who? How?” Dobrazza asked, all business as she looked at Phiona.

“Unknown. Translocation and then some kind of forced teleportation.”

“Hxtratta!” Dobrazza swore, the force of the word doing a very good job in getting the meaning of the expletive across. “When?”

“Around three minutes ago and counting. I went all out.” Even while Phiona answered, Dobrazza was already in motion. She ripped the wooden box asunder to reveal a tracking stone, its white little dot now pointing west and indicating that the badge it was connected to was quite a distance away.

The director looked to Azure. “Continue the preparations and stand ready. I’ll use a beacon when I find the location.”

“Take me with you!” Phiona said, determination in her eyes as she looked at the director.

“Can you fly?”

“No.”

“Then I am sorry, but you will drag me down. Stay with Azure. And be ready.” With her final words, Dobrazza disappeared, teleporting away.

In the blink of an eye, Dobrazza found herself high in the skies west of Bastion. The clouds overhead were lead-gray and roiling, ready to unleash what would probably be one of the last spring storms before the weather would soften during the transition to summer. A flaming vortex appeared around her lower body, keeping her aloft as she scanned the landscape spreading out beneath her, the forests, hills and ever-present stone spires of northern Hua-Xi darkened by the encroaching evening.

But even had she not carried Kite’s tracking stone, Dobrazza would have had little trouble in finding him from her vantage. Off in the distance further west, the evening gloom was periodically lit up as bolts of lightning were unleashed in between a pair of nondescript cliffs. Like a falling red star, Dobrazza became a streak of motion against the evening sky as she set off at full speed towards what seemed to be a clash dying down, each flicker of lightning coming further and further between. And then, none at all.

Mistress Wither sent the young man flying with a casual toss as soon as they came out of the teleportation. Around them in the evening gloom were the trees and cliffs of the wilderness. Had she had more time to prepare, Wither would have liked to arrange for some proper containment and staff to help make this process less of a nuisance. But with all available retainers and servants working on discreetly funneling away what resources could be saved after the debacle at the Relentless compound, that was simply not an option. Wither had chosen expediency, and a lone bronze-ranker was well within what she could handle.

To his credit, the young man instantly rolled to his feet and assumed a ready stance. It was a bit of a nuisance that he had been wearing his armor, the jade-colored mail clinking with his motions, and even more of a stain of shame on her pride that she had to attempt her transposition spell twice before it worked, costing her the use of her magical tattoo. And Wither was ready to take all that frustration out on him, as soon as she got what she needed.

“Well, boy, this would be the part where you start re-evaluating your life choices. Had you not decided to intervene, none of this would be happening.” Mistress Wither kept her voice steady, almost compassionate as she regarded him, but also conjured a straight sword which emerged from nothing accompanied by crackling lightning. “I hope you can see the predicament that you are in, but me and my associates are nothing if not reasonable. If you tell me what my retainer told you before she passed out and who you have shared this information with, we can come to an arrangement of some sort where you at least leave with your life.”

As Wither spoke, she had her aura grind down upon his, but frowned beneath her veils as his aura gave off a firm resistance, as if the water she had expected to plunge her hand into turned out to be ice.

He looked at her, assessing, mistrust clear in both eyes and spirit. “You will have to forgive me if I am not very inclined to trust in a moment such as this. How did you even bring me here? One needs to assent to teleportation.”

At his words, Wither only chuckled. “Most rules in this world can be broken by those with knowledge and means. Be assured, I will add the expense to the tally you have already cost me through your actions.”

“Actions only taken to safeguard the life of my companion.”

“A most noble sentiment, if misguided. Do you even know what the young master Relentless is to this city? To its people?”

“Most of the people seem to adore him.”

“As the misguided sheep they are, not even aware of what the young master truly is; a decorative brooch on the chains weighing them down, all shiny and distracting.”

“Distracting them from what?” the young man asked her, mind clearly trying to figure out the meaning of her words.

“From their oppressors, of course. The old blood and money keeping this city beneath their thumb. As they have for years. But not for long. Young master Relentless was but one piece of the game. As am I. And you telling me what you know may at least keep me on the board and you alive.”

At that moment, mistress Wither was even more pleased with her choice of venue for this little questioning. Being able to take her time was most gratifying.

The young man gave her a skeptical look. “Given your choice of method, I must admit to having serious doubts as to your actual intentions for the city and its people. When the mighty clash, they always get trampled.”

“True change is born from bloodshed, not flowery words. We just chose a method that would at least be slow and gentle. For most at least. The same cannot be said for your fate if you do not share what my retainer told you.”

“Most would agree with you, unknown mistress, but as many would call it just another step on a path of blood and retribution, chaos being the lone concept left in its wake.” he retorted.

“Nonsense. Through our resources and connections with the populace and the markets, it would barely be noticed. It-” Wither began, stopping once more as a pulse of frustration rippled through her otherwise controlled aura. “You think yourself witty enough to keep talking, without answering my question? Think again, or suffer the consequences.”

“I am but a lowly bronze-ranker, mistress. What would I be if not at your mercy?” the man asked, all faux-innocence.

In response, mistress Wither lifted her sword, its crackling length pointing towards the young man. “I will only ask you once more. What did my retainer say?”

“Ah, it seems that the mistress' patience is running thin. Do accept my apologies,” the young man said, even having the gall to give her a short bow. “But alas, it was only incoherent babbling from a woman on the brink of unconsciousness.”

Wither could feel the obvious falsehood in both his words and aura. A bolt of lightning burst from her sword, blowing a nearby tree to incandescent pieces as the young man flinched at the sudden discharge. “Do not make me repeat myself,” she said, voice crackling with the hint of thunder.

Apparently recognizing that he had reached the end of his path, the young man once more fell into his ready stance, the obvious lie in his expression falling away. “I do not believe that you would have let me live either way, mistress. And I must admit to be equally adamant in my choice not to tell you. But know this; I have told someone. And it will spell your end.”

His words, combined with an almost sickeningly resolute gaze finally cracked mistress Wither’s patience. “You will soon reconsider,” was all she said as her blade flashed once more and another bolt of lightning flew straight at him.

“Ward!”

A quick chant from the young man brought a small barrier into existence, the bolt of lightning crashing into it. Mistress Wither was surprised by its durability, but her lightning also carried the power of disruptive force. A mere instant after connecting, the bolt of lightning broke through the shield, although only a remnant of crackling fury actually made it through to its target.

Even through what must have been agony, the adventurer named Kite had already sprung into action.

“Wall!”

Layers of force walls suddenly sprang into existence around mistress Wither, even as a fan of all things appeared in his hand. As she made a few slashes of her crackling blade to rid herself of the nuisance, winds quickly gathered around the young man before a vortex carried him off into the forest at great speed.

Carving through the last of the barriers mere seconds later, Wither took off after him, crackling sword at her side.

“Pathetic! You will pay a thousandfold for what you have cost me before I am done with you!” she called, teeth gritted. The hunt was on.

Even as he had felt that first bout of disorientation back in the Geller’s suite, Kite had known that he was in trouble. This feeling had only grown quite steadily as he had found himself isolated with the woman; a silver-ranker clad in pale robes and several layers of veils hiding her features. While her aura had the distinct feel of monster cores, there was no denying the raw power that came with silver rank. Kite had witnessed it many times during his time spent with mistress Dew, master Stone and eventually also uncle Walker.

So even while he had been rather satisfied with keeping her talking for a while before gradually angering her, it still did little to alleviate his predicament. As if to drive home that very point, another bolt of lightning came zigzagging towards him only to reduce another tree to smoldering ash and kindling.

“My speed will not hold for long, and neither will my barriers,” he thought, mind working overdrive to count his options. “At least Glint was not brought along, and will be safe should I fall here- Ward!”

A clap of thunder had brought the pursuing woman much closer, appearing at his side as another thrust with her sword sent a bolt of lightning towards him, finding an unobstructed path between the trunks and foliage of the surrounding forest. His barrier materialized just in time, only for the same result as last time.

“Even perfectly timed, her bolts will still break through. Range must favor her.” Kite thought as he grit his teeth through the pain of the attack's remnants which washed through him. “I must risk it.”

Gliding on the last dregs of power left in his war fan, Kite wove around a cluster of trees, only to perform a sudden reversal. His opponent compensated as well, breaking her stride and leaping backwards to maintain the distance as she felt his shift of direction through his aura. But that leap was just what Kite had been hoping for.

“Wall!”

The woman’s momentum was abruptly stopped by the cage of force she once more found herself in.

“Tempest unleashed!”

This time, lightning erupted from all over her body, the barriers surrounding her shattering in less than a second. But through the disintegrating remnants of his spell, Kite’s first projected attack crossed the distance and impacted the silver-ranker. The staff strike carried both the rending void and mana drain, but the effect was, as expected, dampened by the rank disparity.

It did cause her to rock back once more though, the distraction providing just enough time for Kite to close the distance while fighting through yet another bolt of lightning. His own blade was already descending toward her, briefly meeting the crackling sword before the conjured weapon was forcefully dispersed. Even as Kite thanked Fortune for his racial gift which made his dispels ignore rank disparity, the tyranny of rank reared its ugly head. What little damage his slash did to her paled in comparison to the stunning force of her palm lashing out to impact his chest.

Kite found himself flying backwards and rolling once, her silver-rank speed having made the blow just a little bit too fast for him to even get a barrier up. Even so, he swung again while regaining his feet, only for her to dodge the projected attack this time around. She did seem a bit frustrated at not being able to conjure her sword right away, but it was poor consolation.

“So, close combat will carry its risk as well.” Kite thought, feeling his body trying to mend the cracks in his rib cage after the solid hit. Still, he advanced once more, projecting a pair of attacks as his foe was gathering another bolt of lightning. She ducked out of the way of one attack, but chose to suffer the other in favor of completing her own spell, trusting in her resistance to leave the wound more manageable. True to form, what physical attacks Kite had landed were already fast closing, if not already gone, courtesy of her silver-rank healing.

Blowing through one more barrier, Kite was once more upon her, staff, sword and spear weaving a staggered series of attacks as he tried using his projected attacks to pressure her to the fullest. Because, while it was already obvious that dealing enough physical damage to her would be quite beyond him, Kite hoped that he had one condition remaining which would allow him to maybe, just maybe, get out of this situation alive. Time.

But the very concept of time was already under great strain, his opponent’s greater attributes really showing their worth and why fighting an essence user was a different prospect than fighting a monster. Even as Kite tried his utmost to keep her pressured, each hit draining more of her mana, each affliction breaking through further hampering her recovery and each blow lessening the gap between them just a little bit more, it felt like trying to shore up a dam on the cusp of breaking, new leaks continuing to spring around him even as he struggled.

He had already used the first of Sage’s charges of recovery, and then had to use another in short order as she used a quick succession of a crackling strikes from a newly conjured sword followed by a swift kick to send Kite flying through the trunk of a small tree, the lightning-covered weapon having broken through his barrier to make way for her chin to connect with his midriff.

“And now-” Kite barely had time to think as he rolled even before the following bolt of lightning was unleashed, eliminating another unfortunate piece of shrubbery.

“Then-” He raised his staff to parry her blade as she had once more used the crackling step of thunder to close the distance, conjured weapon once more disappearing due to his counter.

“And-” A fist connected with a hastily conjured barrier, cracks spreading over its surface. But the timing and lack of special attack had allowed his barrier to hold. Without hesitation, Kite struck the disc of force, the woman staggering back slightly as the resonating force hit her full on in the face.

“Just accept your fate.” she snarled, shooting another bolt of lightning at Kite, as she was prone to do when he had frustrated her.

This had been what had allowed Kite to have even the slightest chance at holding on for as long as he had; predictability. He had not faced too many core-users in his short career, and definitely none as high as silver rank. But what he had seen so far had been the very image of what his mentors had described; great power but lack of fluidity and adaptability. The woman he was facing had so far mostly relied on her offensive lightning powers as means of attack, rarely displaying much more from her other essences. And while it was clear that she had some basic combat training, it was not anything comprehensive.

Had Kite been at the peak of bronze rank, he was almost sure that he could fight her off. Probably even win. But he was not at the peak of bronze rank. Not even halfway. And the tyranny of rank remained; even if he could predict a blow, some still caught him as their sheer speed or power was more than his own reflexes could handle.

Demonstrating just that, another swift kick glanced off his shoulder, bruising him through his armor. But as the follow-up lightning came at him, Kite was at least able to make a move of his own. War fan appearing in his hand, the painted mirror shone, mana leaving him and pain surging through his arms as the lightning was mostly reflected back, once more straight back in her face. The blast sent her reeling as her veils disintegrated, and Kite was for the first time able to meet his opponent’s eyes.

She was an elf, pale skin beautifully contrasting black hair, all of her features carrying the perfection of silver rank. Even her hateful glare or some of her hair charred away by the lightning did little to diminish her presence. And Kite found himself recognizing her.

“So you were at the party!” he exclaimed, recognizing one of the silver-ranked guests who had been observing them as he had left alongside the branch director. “And you have a daughter. Crescent,” he finished, the resemblance uncanny to the young mistress they had met at the city gates.

“You dare use her name with such familiarity?” the woman seethed, once more going on the offensive. A few more exchanges followed, more than a few bruising and injuring blows managing to find their way through Kite’s defenses, before he found the time to reply.

“Then you must be mistress Wither herself. And that sentiment of yours is quite a lot like the so-called ‘old blood’ you spoke off with such derision.” Kite noted through gritted teeth as another torrent of lightning partially found their mark, causing his vision to blur.

He did counter, sword appearing in his hand to slash at her. But apparently, his perceived insolence had caused quite the grievance. Instead of stepping back, mistress Wither caught his blade in one hand, ignoring the rending force partially mangling the limb as she used her other hand to send more lightning his way. Even as Kite brought forth another barrier to block it, he realized too late that she was not yet done.

“Tempest unleashed!”

Once more, lightning erupted from all over her body. No defenses left at his disposal, Kite’s body was overwhelmed with the torrent of twitching, burning pain that followed. He vaguely felt his body flying through the air and the subsequent landing, both his eyes already having been destroyed in the outburst. He lay on his back, only faintly able to hear the words his opponent called to him.

“You should already know that power is the final measure of all people. We already match those old remnants in personal power, and will soon overtake them resource-wise as well. You could even have benefited, had you not chosen to interfere. At least note that your death should help me salvage some standing with the rest of the board, that cursed chairwoman be damned. An outsider like her should know her place.”

Kite had not heard Wither come closer as she spoke, but that might just be his failing hearing playing tricks on him.

“So, farewell little interloper. I rarely get my hands dirty up close like this, but know that I will enjoy it. Parry this, peasant!”

It was not his physical senses, but his spiritual, which allowed Kite to sense her sudden motion as mistress Wither’s aura closed in, apparently having chosen to leap toward him. It was time to bring out the contingencies.

“Void!”

His voice was but a croak of charred lips, but fortunately, proper articulation was not needed for the spell to take effect, especially not after months of intense practice. The second power activated was not a spell, needing no chant, only the mental assent. A wave of intense, reinvigorating energy flowed throughout Kite’s body. As his vision returned but a second later, he saw only darkness, which was understandable as Kite had summoned his gate above his own prone form at a slight angle in an attempt to protect himself from what was to come.

Even as his immortality power swiftly restored his body, he sensed his foe impacting the dark gate above before being forcefully rebuffed, followed by a shriek of pain. Rolling out from beneath his dark gate, Kite got to his feet just as the mistress arrested her own roll, coming up on her knees with one hand on the ground, the other mostly missing from the destructive, involuntary contact with Kite’s most powerful barrier.

As she looked up towards Kite to lever another hateful stare against him, Wither was met by a projected attack striking her in the face, the impact of Kite’s staff carried the distance once more by his intent. And it also carried the power of a boosted mana-draining attack, the echo from the staff adding insult to injury as the drain was repeated yet again.

“Fortune truly is fickle,” she hissed as she rose to her feet. “Peasants like you should have no right to powers such as immortality. My daughter surely wasn’t blessed with it, all attempts be damned.”

“Or maybe the god simply did not feel you deserving of such a boon? The divine does have a sense of karmic justice at times.” Kite answered, even as he projected two more attacks her way, forcing her to dodge. The mistress’ demeanor had started to leave a slight hope budding in his chest, a hope beyond hope that the mana-drain was actually starting to get to her. She had thrown no lightning at him, and even dodged his attack rather than parried. “Perhaps enough of my afflictions have gotten through?” he thought, not letting up.

“Such may be the case. Or maybe we are just being tested,” Wither said, ducking out of the way of yet another attack. “After all, the gods do tend to favor those who come prepared.”

After sending a lone bolt of lightning Kite’s way, forcing him to defend himself, her lone good hand went down into the pouch at her side. Before Kite’s heart even had the time to drop, she swallowed two pills in one swift motion.

While he had little time to study the pills themselves, at least the first of them became quite obvious as Kite could see a cleansing wave ripple through the woman’s body, erasing the magical afflictions he had so painstakingly worked to build in her body which both lowered her resistances and mana recovery. The second weren’t as obvious, but Kite dared hazard a guess at it being a mana-restoring one.

“You truly are an annoyance,” mistress Wither said, seeming content to let the pills do their work as she continued to just dodge out of the way of Kite’s attacks. “Those little tricks of yours sure were subtle. I guess I’ll have to finish this in a more messy manner.”

As if punctuating her words, there was a clap of thunder as she suddenly appeared in front of Kite, her one good hand connecting with his barrier, then a fierce kick was blocked by his staff. And finally, a knee hit Kite in his stomach, sending him staggering backward.

“Wall!”

Another force cage appeared around the mistress as Kite took the time to regain his breath. At first, she just hammered it with her unarmed strikes, but as Kite took the time to continuously channel mana into it, her progress was slow. A snarl of frustration and a burst of lightning later, she was once more free.

What followed became less a controlled duel and more a brawl, lightning occasionally lighting up the dark, sundered woods around them, each flash of light coming further and farther between. As Kite slashed at her with his blade, shredding her robes and spilling blood, her hands and feet hammered and battered him, only his superior technique and barriers along with the, by now, eroded rank disparity keeping him from being broken by his foes innate strength. His combat staff met mistress Wither’s onslaught of strikes, doing his best to once more start draining her mana and keep himself alive, while she simply did her utmost to pummel Kite to a pulp, all semblance of grace and lofty lightning caster gone as the mistress dared not use more spells, conserving her mana and remaining in the fight as her raw power turned out to be more effective than her magic.

Kite did not know how long this went on; what felt like hours was at most a minute or two, but eventually he felt his body truly start flagging once more, stamina spent and vitality declining. Only his pool of mana felt reasonably filled, his vortex constantly drinking in mistress Wither’s magical energy and hampering her greater regeneration. And his dwindling body eventually failed him. A solid punch finally drove Kite to the ground, a furious elven woman following. She straddled him like a tavern brawler, black hair a wild mess and the formerly fine robes now in bloody tatters, and started punching down towards Kite.

His thoughts were racing faster than ever before, conjuring his barrier to ward off what blows could be deflected while mitigating the damage when possible. “If I would have just had a little more strength.” he thought, white light flashing before his eyes from a glancing blow to his head.

“To be able to take just a little bit more punishment.” Another flash.

“To drain just a little more from her.” His whole head shook as he heard the crunching of his nose breaking.

“To be just a little bit more of what I can become.”

Through bleary eyes, Kite noted that the flashing seemed to be surprisingly constant now, only part of his mind actually registering the bright bronze glow that had started to emanate from his body. But this did not stop mistress Wither, the harsh light from beneath casting grim shadows over her face, her form contrasting against the dark sky above. Her remaining hand had once more been lifted, and Kite could feel the intent to deliver the next blow, maybe even the final blow, ripple through her aura.

Then, mistress Wither’s raised hand disappeared. A bright, white-hot ray had almost burned itself onto Kite’s retina, shearing off the silver-ranker’s limb with a surgeon’s precision faster than his mind could process. As the severed appendage fell down beside him, the woman straddling Kite barely had time to turn her head before she was sent flying, the impact enough to send Kite rolling across the forest floor as well.

His vision re-focused just in time to see the branch director, form aglow with inner power, come to a stop close to the prone form of the other silver-ranker. Mistress Wither barely had time to twitch before four sparks lit up far above them in the night sky, each projecting its own thin beam down and swiftly severing each of the elven woman’s limbs close to her body, searing through flesh and bone with terrifying ease. The mistress howled in agony, lightning erupting from her form. Dobrazza just let the attack wash over her, a flaming barrier keeping the wild sparks at bay as she turned her head to look at Kite.

“Adventurer, mind providing me with one of those mana-draining barriers that your file mentions?” she asked, tone casual as if she was just asking Kite to hand her a pen.

“I- uh… Wall,” Kite managed in a nasal slur, a lone pane of force appearing next to the branch director.

Dobrazza casually bent down and picked up what remained of mistress Wither, gripping the remnants of the woman’s robes as she pushed the silver-ranker against the mana-draining barrier. Mistress Wither struggled a little at first, but between her already mostly spent reserves, Kite’s vortex and the ramping drawing from prolonged contact with the barrier, she soon fell limp, unconscious as her last dregs of mana were consumed.

Only then did Dobrazza flash over to Kite, bending down to tip a potion into his mouth. Kite spluttered a bit as he attempted to imbibe the liquid, a silly part of his mind still feeling that he preferred pills, but managed to get it down. And it was apparently something quite potent too, if the recovering flame it ignited in his body was any indication.

“Director. I… I believe that the plan went a bit awry.” Kite noted, still half in a daze from his exertions.

“You know the saying, adventurer. No plan survives the battlefield. But I will admit that this one took quite the turn.” Dobrazza admitted with a wry grin. “Had it not been for your gift evolution acting like a beacon, I might have been just a second or two too late. It lit her up quite splendidly.”

“Gift..?” Kite murmured, confused at first. But then he felt it. And remembered the light.

WWJS:

Human racial ability Special attack affinity has evolved into Cleave the Spirit

Cleave the Spirit - Special attacks have increased effect, with an additional boost to mana-draining effects.

When making a special attack, you may choose for any or all damage types to deal damage to an opponent’s mana instead of health. Attacks made this way will not leave marks or wounds on the physical body, unless they also deal other, non-converted types of damage. Other effects of the attack still apply as normal, and any secondary effects (such as an affliction dealing damage) will not have its damag converted. While this is a mana-draining effect, you do not gain mana drained this way.

As he searched inwardly, feeling out his new and evolved ability, Kite couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it.

“Not to be ungrateful-” he thought, directed against no deity in particular, “- but I could have used such an evolution just a little bit earlier during this most eventful evening. No god saw fit to answer, which might have been the best in the end.

While he had lain there in introspection, Dobrazza had looked around for a decently flat space before bringing out a small orb. It emitted no glow, but Kite could see her infuse mana into it, after which it did emit… something. Mere seconds later, a portal appeared next to Dobrazza, a shimmering vertical sheet of water as if a localized waterfall had appeared. And first to step through was a severe-looking Phiona, Rachel close on her heels. Both were ready for combat, but quickly lowered their guards at a gesture from Dobrazza.

“Kite!” Rachel called out, seeing his prone form as the two Gellers started running for him.

Leaning his head back against the soft ground, Kite still couldn’t stop smiling in disbelief. It seems that he would survive this evening, after all.