Symbiotic Ascension : A Progression Fantasy Adventure

"This... peasant, because he accomplished a few achievements, believed himself worthy of insulting my honor!" Duchess Sorenas pointed an accusatory finger at Glenn, her face flushed dark red. Her noble friends flocked to her, supporting her claim with angry gasps of outrage. The constant chattering in the ballroom died down as every guest slowly turned their way.

'Oh, Glenn, I like it! We're being the center of attention again!' Diamanes revelled as a wicked smile spread on Glenn's lips.

"I concur!" Glenn clamored, turning to the guests in turn and ignoring the angry duchess. "This old hag has insulted the way I live, insulted my dearest friend, and threatened her safety!"

"When did I ever say that—"

"Don't listen to that decrepit fossil," Glenn interrupted the duchess before she could protest. "She only wants to watch an entertaining fight with the latest star of King's Rise, which, in all honesty, I can understand. It's a little unfortunate my opponent might die from a heart attack before I manage to get a single hit in, though."

A few laughs echoed through the ballroom, quickly killed by an infuriated duchess' glare. Glenn looked at the guests and raised his eyebrows.

"Of course, that's unless someone wants to fight for her honor, which I'm not sure even exists anymore. But, hell, I'd be more than glad to make this party a little less boring by fighting some young noble fool. So, anyone?"

Disappointment painted his face as no one stepped forward. "Nobody? Really? I swear I won't kill or hurt you... too much."

"BHAHAHAHA!!!" A broad laugh made the manor shake as a wave of Aura pulsed through the walls and made the floor tremble.

Gulp, gulp, gulp!

"I'll fight you, young wolf! I'll see if I can teach you a thing or two, ay?" Duke Noir licked the ale off his lips as he threw away the barrel he was using as a mug. Duchess Sorenas' eyes lit up with delight and she hurriedly walked up to the duke, grabbing his hand affectionately.

"Dear Duke, thank you so much. With my honor resting in your hands, I'm certain nothing will—"

"Agh, shut up old hag and for the love of Onnea, try to pull out that damned broom stuck up your ass, you're cleaning the floor every time you move!" Duke Noir snapped as he shoved her away. "Come on, Devil's Hand! I'll show you what this ol' Iron Fist can do to open palms like you!"

He smacked his fist in his palm with a loud bang. Drapes, curtains, and dresses fluttered up as a shockwave exploded into the ballroom. Glenn's hair rose in the air as his eyes glimmered, before suddenly turning pitiful.

"Ah, look at this. Of course, the sole individual who dares try to fight me is a Newborn Ruler, a whole level above me. Such an unfairness, but then, so is life. I suppose I shall suffer with no—"

"Stop your jabbering," grumbled Duke Noir. "What do you want in exchange for entertaining this old man?"

Glenn stopped and the corners of his lips curled upward. "A favor, a simple one, nothing that would taint your honor or put your life in danger."

Duke Noir nodded. "Done. Now, let's take this outside before I explode from trepidation and flatten this traitor's estate to the ground!"

"Uh, Glenn, what's the plan here?" Nelg asked worriedly. "In case you forgot, this guy is centuries stronger than you, and unless you want to reveal my presence, I don't know how you'll win."

'Nelg...' Glenn's grin continued to widen, 'The goal isn't to win this fight. It's to win time. Can you see Sahro anywhere?'

The doppelgänger paused before gasping in disbelief. "The hell? Where did he go?"

'That's the question, isn't it?' Glenn's plan was going even better than planned. Sahro must have noticed something wrong about the Duchess just like him, and was probably paying a visit to her quarter within the guest rooms in the manor. There was more than enough place to welcome the entire Court if needed, after all.

He just needed to waste some time, maybe earn a few favors, and glean some information. Maybe if he's entertaining enough with his fight, some nobles would be better predisposed to help him, as long as he showed them a carrot to follow. Inducing them with the ideas that his services could be bought would be the perfect way to get those stuck-up nobles to try and build good relationships with him.

'My, my, Glenn, you're becoming smarter by the day! This scheme, this is so... so... Ah, you see, there are no words suitable to show how satisfied I am right now!' Diamanes chuckled happily, unbothered by Nelg's repeated sighs of disarray.

"Did you forget the most important part? Showing his skills in front of a NEWBORN RULER, only that! Yeah, piece of cake, sure. I'm being sarcastic, by the way."

Diamanes' insane laughter echoed in Glenn's mind. 'Come on, it's Glenn we're talking about! The Devil's Hand himself!'

Glenn smiled softly as he followed Duke Noir outside of the manor.

'I have to say, it's very encouraging to hear you say that, Diamanes. Feels great.'

'Oh, don't worry, you still suck ass compared to me. But hey, I'm rooting for you! Go, go, Glenn! Fighting!'

"Sigh..."

***

Somewhere else in the Mortelli Manor.

Sahro scratched the back of his head, his cape fluttering behind him.

"...Where the fuck is everyone?" He turned to look at his surroundings, his confusion only growing. "Where even am I?"

So far, the Black Heir's reasoning had been flawless. He hadn't been exactly enjoying his time in the company of all these superficial noble ladies, so he thought logically. Get away from the party, from the disgusting nobles, and maybe find something related to the duchess. The Black Heir wasn't too worried about having to find something useful. He was pretty certain Glenn would manage without him somehow. That was the kind of guy Glenn was after all.

Even though this was quite the joyful thought, it still didn't solve his current predicament. The damned ruh sayiya, Mortelli, had to build himself a manor large enough to house an entire village if needed. Sahro couldn't even begin to comprehend what the point was. This was such a massive, massive waste of resources which could have gone to something better, more suitable.

"Right, right... left?" Sahro's question hung in the air as he turned and turned into the labyrinthine corridors. Paintings and marble sculptures watched him walk at an increasingly annoyed pace, his brows furrowing with each step.

'Should I just destroy the damn manor?' He asked himself, his Primal energy surging violently to respond to his will. He pushed it down with a grunt and forced himself to keep his composure. Suddenly, after one more of these accursed corners, he found a servant lazily leaning against a wall, drooling at the lips.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"You!"

The servant jumped, startled. "Me?"

"Yes, you." Sahro pointed forward, his steampunk prosthesis hissing with steam. "Guide me."

"O-Of course, sire. Where do you need me to guide you to, if I dare to ask...?"

Sahro froze. He hadn't thought that far. Hmm, might as well hit two birds with one stone.

"To Duchess Sorenas' dwelling! I have important business to attend there!"

The servant's eyes widened. "But guests are supposed to only use their attributed rooms... n-nevermind sir, I must have been mistaken, haha."

He laughed nervously as Sahro's wild eyes chased him fervently. It had taken only a glare for the Black Heir to intimidate the poor servant.

'With a bit of luck, maybe I'll find something there. And at least I'll help a little instead of fleeing from that damned party...' He grimaced, disliking one term. 'Not fleeing,' he corrected, 'Merely a tactical retreat. An advanced scouting operation. No cowardly fleeing involved.'

Sahro thought back to the flock of young ladies who had swarmed him earlier and shivered.

He definitely couldn't understand humans sometimes.

***

Glenn traded looks with his excited opponent. Duke Noir was intimidating, to say the least. With his bear-like build and a presence like a mountain, it was hard not to feel pressured by him.

'I've seen worse,' thought Glenn as he stretched lazily. The sun was high in the sky, shining its warm light with no obstruction.

"I hope you're tougher than you look, boy!" Duke Noir bellowed. "I don't want to shatter you in half by accident!"

Glenn shrugged. "Are you stronger than the King's Blade?"

Noir frowned. "Hmm, that's a mighty good question, boy. Last time I sparred with that stuck-up was when he visited the Dark Wall for some nonsensical reason... Ah, those were the good times." He grinned and raised a provocative fist. "Not much of a Dark Wall to defend anymore, is there? Come on, boy, I'll give you the first hit!"

'You didn't answer the question, you old coot!' Glenn kept the thought to himself as he glanced at the spectators. The nobles were watching with unveiled excitement as the two fighters prepared themselves. They were standing outside of Mortelli's manor, in training grounds that were once used to give the fallen noble's personal guards a place to practice.

Today, it had been repurposed to welcome a duel at the summit, between Glenn the Devil's Hand and Duke Noir the Iron Fist. A rising legend against an ancient, undefeated myth.

'Ohhh, I'm shivering from excitement,' exclaimed Diamanes. 'Well, as much as a hand can shiver, but you get my point. So, what will it be? Do we cook him, freeze him, send him in space, or just throw a good ol' Black Hole?'

'None of that just yet,' replied Glenn as he extended his hand out. A plain yet menacing longsword appeared in his palm, glimmering with a violent edge.

"Feels weird to be a sword again," commented Nelg. "But not exactly disagreeable. Let's give this geezer a show he'll remember!"

Glenn clenched his weapon tightly and channeled his Archmagi's Mana. His six Circles spun with incredible might, conjuring spells one after the other. A Sun appeared above Glenn, burning incandescently while otherworldly cold seeped out of his purple hand. Duke Noir chuckled, only for his laughter to die out when Glenn's blade changed shape to a sleek greatsword covered in dark blue Mana.

The pressure Glenn was currently exerting was no less than what the Duke himself was producing.

"You said you give me first hit, right?" Glenn said slowly, his Mana still on the rise. "I'm not like you all fossils. I don't like underestimating my opponents."

The Duke's eyes widened and he raised his palms before him. "Wait—"

Glenn's Sun shot out and exploded into a massive fireball, calcinating the freshly cut grass and singeing the spectator's hair. Thankfully, a few of the participating nobles were Archmagis and were able to hold a shield to protect the spectators. If not for them, they would probably have all ended up in piles of ashes.

But Glenn wasn't done yet. He pressed his left palm on the floor and conjured a massive wave of Nitrogen. The cold tsunami swallowed the black cloud where the Duke should supposedly be. Glenn followed in right away, drawing out his sword with all his strength and using the Cut & Pull ability to try and surprise the Duke.

'No way all of this actually hurt him. I probably just burned his clothes, if I'm lucky—' Glenn's eyes widened in awe as he watched Duke Noir fly through the air with a bewildered look, a small cut across his chest. His top half had been completely burnt off and flames were still consuming his skin. They were far from critical injuries, barely scratches to a Newborn Ruler, but still. Glenn somehow hurt him pretty badly considering the gap in ranks.

"Hmf, these damned youngsters." The Duke threw away his burning clothes, revealing his ridiculously muscular chest. Countless scars were marking the venerable warrior's body, traces of past battles. "Always eager to do more than they should. Ahh, but I was like this too one day. Sigh, the good ol' days, am I right?"

Duke Noir cocked his fist back in a very simple and predictable manner. Glenn readied himself, conjuring shields and readying Gravity Manipulation to pull himself away if needed, but—

"BREAK!" The Duke roared and punched forward. There was nothing superfluous, no special flashy effects, no. It was just a singular punch.

Black.

Glenn's eyes shot open as he gasped for air, coughing out blood. He was high in the sky, still rising in the air and not stopping anytime soon. The violence of the shock had been such that it made him lose consciousness for an instant.

'Wow, that was crazy! Your shields were like paper for that old coot! I don't get why you didn't just avoid, it was so straightforward!' Diamanes chuckled mockingly.

"Cough, that's the thing, I couldn't!" Glenn grimaced through the pain as blood trickled out of his mouth. His thoracic cage had been cleanly punched in, his lungs crushed and the breath drawn out of him. He channeled more Mana into Diamanes, activating Laurance's Regeneration and quickly healing himself. When he finally felt himself fall again, he was done treating himself.

'Laurance's Regeneration on top of my Archmagi's Mana is like a cheat,' thought Glenn. 'I can hardly see myself die as long as I have Mana. It's incredible. Wait, doesn't that mean I'm now the ultimate tank?'

'All thanks to me,' Diamanes insisted. 'Just in case you forgot.'

'No, I certainly didn't. How could I when you literally took possession of my body you fucking demon?'

'Still hung up on that, huh?'

Nelg cleared his throat. "Why not focus back on the present, meaning, a battle with one of Munirp's oldest legends?"

Glenn got his mind back in the game and he conjured spells one after the other. He wasn't sure if his Nitrogen had done any damage, but at least he was sure about the Sun, which burned the Duke's skin and damaged him. Maybe a stronger version would work better?

In the meantime, Duke Noir was looking at the sword stabbed in the ground with unveiled curiosity. He tried grabbing Nelg's hilt, only for the weapon to fade away from his hands.

"Interesting... A Soul Weapon, huh?" The Duke scratched his beard, not concerned whatsoever about the opponent he sent flying away. "I know a blacksmith who will need to answer some questions..."

This whole thing had been rather interesting, surprisingly. The only reason he'd bothered coming in this chicken coop was to see if he could recruit the Devil's Hand and his comrades, after all. See them for himself. No way in hell would he participate in these ridiculous ceremonies if it wasn't for that. His presence was needed now more than ever at the Dark Gate, but coming was worth the risk. If he managed to snag a talent such as Glenn for himself, who knows what they could accomplish next? Maybe they could even start pushing back against these damned Celestial bastards...

In any case, Noir had to admit he was surprised. His body was tempered through fire and steel, and should have been impervious to most attacks, yet both his spell and blade wounded him. Maybe he should try and take things a little more seriously, just in case—

The Duke's head snapped to above him, where he sent Glenn flying. He squinted and chuckled in disbelief.

"Is he bringing down the sky on me...?"

Glenn laughed madly as he channeled all of his Mana into Pebble, creating the most powerful Meteor he could.

"Let's see if this old man will still be able to laugh after that!"

Pebble jittered happily as purple flames engulfed his body, a level of heat Glenn had never reached before. The Duke's fist glowed with a black light as he slowly cocked it back.

"One good punch will be more than enough, ghahaha!" Noir bellowed.

Both attacks were about to collide when—

"Stop."

A word sufficed. Pebble blinked confusedly as the Mana empowering him disappeared and he rolled on the floor harmlessly. The Duke's fist stopped dead in its track by one, single finger. A crimson cape fluttered in the wind as the golden shimmer of a crown reflected the sunlight. The twilight, symbol of Munirp, was embroidered on his back.

Munirp's King stared down at the two of them, his expression cold and yet majestic.

"Enough."