NOVEL NEXT Chapter Three Hundred Seventy Seven
It took me almost no time to figure out what that mask did from context. Illusions, obviously. But despite knowing that I also knew I had no chance of piercing through them. No one here did. Trying to bypass B-rank perception would be pure delusion, so I didn't try.
Zeke was far too much of a performer to let this end without a show, so I trusted the illusions wouldn't ruin our chance to watch them battle. Apparently, he was making enough of an impression here that the other two were genuinely worried. The taller of the hooded Arch-Bishops snarled. "You seek to unnerve us with your games, but you've shown your weakness. This shield exists to protect this planet and your charge. Should we take it down any casual attack would reduce this world to dust."
He started to gather dark energy in his hands. It...hurt. Just looking at it hurt. The energy Pietro had used had looked wrong, but it was nothing compared to this. Like the difference between a dark room before bed and the soul crushing depths of the deepest cave in the world. It was just conceptually incomparable. Callie grabbed my hand, squeezing it, as I struggled to tear my eyes away from the energy.
The worst part was that I suspected the shield was actually helping. It was mitigating the effects somewhat like it had with the attacks. Being able to box in a pair of B-rankers by himself was terrifying to me. Zeke was stronger than any of us had given him credit for. He wasn't just B-rank, he was to B-rank what Abel was to G-rank. He was a monster.
His voice echoed cheerfully from the empty air. "I wouldn't do that. That shield is made from a combination of very powerful abilities. The direct defensive applications are impressive, but the secondary effects are what really make it shine. Aside from filtering out harmful conceptual elements before they can damage the lower rankers here the defenses also-"
The Arch-Bishop cut him off by unleashing a TORRENT of the gathering power, a beam of energy packing into the size of a needle, so dense I almost threw up just seeing it. The beam struck the shield...then bounced off it in three different directions before spearing the other Arch-bishop, the red lightning guy, through the shoulder. The hooded figure howled in pain and literally RIPPED his arm off his body, hurling it onto the ground as it was consumed along with his cloak in a swirl of rotting darkness.
Zeke's voice continued his explanation as if there had been no interruption. "Deflect direct attacks along the inside of the defensive perimeter. It's made for aftershocks, but if you try to break it directly there's a backlash. It took me AGES to find that power interaction. Most B-rankers don't focus on defense."
The red lightning guy, who was revealed to be a large red haired man with mutton chops and dark eyes, glared at both his companion and the air around them. "Damn it Absalom! You have to stop doing that. This is why we got reassigned to this frontier nonsense. You can't just overpower everything." He looked down at his smoking shoulder. "Can you remove this corruption? I can do it but it'll take time we don't have."
Shuffling uncomfortably, the still robed figure took a step toward the other man and froze. There was a shift in the air and three masked figures appeared in a triangle formation. They raised their arms and a whirling vortex of brilliant white flame sprung up, swallowing the figure. As the injured one saw his partner attacked, he tried to rush to his aid.
The four other hooded figures swirled into existence around him. Two of them threw their hands out and dark chains lashed from the ground, binding him in place at neck, legs, and his remaining arm. One of the other masked figures made a drawing motion and a huge bow and arrow coalesced above their heads. The last one pointed at the arrow and power spilled down the length of the weapon, infusing it with a yellow glow so sharp it almost hurt to look at.
There was a rush as the arrow released, but the vortex burst, a flash of dark energy imposing itself between the red haired man and the arrow. The robe of the remaining figure was burned away revealing what looked like a desiccated corpse with its mouth sewn shut. Dark gems were set where its eyes should have been, and it punched the arrow head on, trying to destroy the energy.
It wound up with an absurd amount of power, even more than last time, and swung it in a close quarters blow meant to destroy the attack. A blow that hit...nothing. The image of the arrow vanished, and the corpse looking man choked, looking down at where he'd been bisected by the ACTUAL arrow, which had been fired from the ground where it had been hidden under an illusion.
Zeke stepped out of thin air as he saw the corpse fall, snapping his fingers. The three masks responsible for the white firestorm manifested around the plummeting figure's top half, unleashing another attack on someone far less prepared to defend himself.
By the time the flames faded there WAS no top half left, just a pair of spasming desiccated legs hitting the ground. Zeke clicked his tongue and turned to the red haired one, who was staring at his partner's remaining limbs in terror. "This is the problem with cultists. No sense of flare or imagination. You all pride yourself on being sneaky and dangerous, but give you an ounce of power and all you can do is slug away."
The other man pointed shakily at one of the masks. "That's...that's an Arch-Bishop of the Red Revenant Church. Those were flames of purification."
Zeke shrugged. "Partly. They were amplified by a few other powerful abilities. But they were definitely in the mix. Theodore Stoddard. Dreadful man. Tried to have my nephews mother assassinated so he could move up in the clergy. He did have a gift for the purifying flame though. Comes in useful when up against Black Sorrow's Enshrining Darkness."
Snapping his fingers, a small flask appeared in his hand. He opened the top and there was a swirl of crystalline energy as runes lit up along the flask. There were millions of them on the thing, so dense I wouldn't have been able to see them if not for my Perception. In the sky where the fire had struck, a phantasmal outline of the corpselike Arch-Bishop appeared, a dark bluish purple, screaming so loudly the stitches in his mouth had torn open.
The image of the man clawed at the air as an invisible force dragged him toward the flask. Zeke gestured to one of the masks and the same dark chains holding the red head grabbed Absalom the corpse and restrained him, allowing him to be sucked into the flask. Zeke screwed the top back on the flask, staring at it for a few seconds before flicking it with a sharp "Stop that." Then he put it away.
"What did you just do?" The red haired man asked in revulsion. "Was that his soul? Give it back! You can't take a soul that belongs to our Lady!"
Zeke snorted. "Imagine only being at Indigo as a B-ranker. I think Black Sorrow would thank me for cleaning up trash like that. Or she won't. I don't much care. I told you morons I'd be harvesting you for materials. Did you think I would go back on my word on a system wide broadcast? A man's word is all he has. Would you like to struggle? I'm still not sure what your ability is, and if you want to show off I'd be happy to allow it."
The man looked sick. "You're a monster! Our souls belong to the Lady. How many of our brethren have you used to create these abominations? How many have you stolen from the Red Revenant. You can't do something like this in front of all these people and expect to get away with it. The cult will-"
"Do nothing." Cut off Zeke with amusement. "I've been active for quite some time, my friend. The Church and the Cult know about me. You think they care? If they hunted down people for things like this I'd hardly be first on the list. Morgan Lark can consume the very stats that make up a person, yet the Vampire remains free, assumed to be the next being to become a god, do you know why that is?"
The cultist didn't respond, so Zeke continued. "Because power is all that matters. I'm strong, which makes me valuable. If you think I'M scary, you should see my best friend. When it comes down to it, you've played with forces best left alone. You weren't sent by the Cult itself, you and your little buddy decided to take this planet on your own. You wanted to prove yourself, didn't you?"
"We...we just wanted to be recognized for our power." He said blankly. "We wanted the respect our positions were due. There are so MANY Arch-Bishops, and we had to work our way up the ranks the hard way. We didn't get any of those special privileges like some of the children of the Saints and Popes. We're members of the Cult too. We just wanted them to acknowledge us."
Zeke just chuckled. "Of course you did. But you have no concept of what a REAL B-ranker looks like. There are real monsters out among the stars, my boy. You might be a cultist, but you aren't powerful enough to interfere in high level faction business. People like Sasha, like my buddy Elijah, they're in a whole different world than you."
He turned his eyes on the crowd, and somehow, I could sense him looking past them all, to everyone watching the recordings. "This is your one warning. All of you. Elijah Wyndham's son is under the protection of Janus. If you are of a match with him, are willing to pit your heirs against him, be welcome. Hone his edge. Help me mold him. But if you think you can interfere with the candidate selection, interfere with MY FAMILY, this is all that awaits you."
He walked toward the still chained redhead, and like he said, he let the other man use his powers. The cultist hurled red lightning at my uncle, and one of the masks appeared, erecting a small clear shield that I believed was similar to the shield they were in. The red haired man screamed, hurling bolts of crimson electricity, but none of them even came close to Zeke.
My uncle arrived in front of the man, with a snap, he slipped on a glove with pointed talon like fingers that lit up with a multitude of runes, just like the flask. Then he shoved a hand INTO the other man. Not through him, there was no blood, his hand vanished into the chest of his enemy, and as he withdrew it, I could see the struggling purple form as it was RIPPED out of the body of the cultist.
When he finally tore it loose the body slumped over to the ground, limp and motionless, breathing but empty. Another snap brought out a second flask, and he popped the cap with a thumb before stuffing the struggling spirit into the flask. Dismissing the glove he recapped the flask and put it away. He waved a hand and the bodies vanished, as did the shield, and Zeke turned and walked out of the arena, past a staring Abel who had crawled over to lean against the wall and watch.
The rest of the crowd was...quiet. That had been brutal, even by Ascendant standards. Zeke had been sending a message, and it was one that I knew came from a place of real anger. Seeing him do that should have horrified me, and part of it did, but it also made me proud. My uncle was strong and loyal and had my back. Despite how brutal he could be, I was damned glad he was on my side.