The Primal Hunter 8: A LitRPG Adventure, page 46
Yet he seemed relatively unbothered. The trident moved again, the middle of the three forks lighting up. The sun behind him then began ascending as the temperature rose, and the sky itself began burning. An endless inferno descended upon the old man, which he met with the serenity of an undisturbed lake.
Water whirled around his sword, Rainblade making it an instrument of the element itself. He slashed as a wave of water appeared that rapidly multiplied and countered the fire descending towards him. In the same fluid movement, he positioned his blade and blocked the trident of Ell’Hakan, feeling that the alien had gotten even stronger than before.
Physically, the Sword Saint was perhaps superior, but Ell’Hakan did not simply rely on his physical stats. Every attack was infused with a powerful concept. Not that the Sword Saint found himself on the backfoot due to this.
Their weapons flew through the air and clashed multiple times. Miyamoto analyzed his opponent and slowly began to regain the upper hand. With an upwards strike, he made Ell’Hakan attempt to dodge, but the blade pivoted to the side and turned the slash into a sideway sweep.
The alien tried to teleport, but droplets of water had landed upon him to restrict his movements ever so slightly. The blade sank into the side of Ell’Hakan, but he managed to turn to flames, leaving a spray of blood in his wake.
He appeared again a few hundred meters away, his side entirely cut up. His left lumbar was halfway cut through in what would have been a lethal blow pre-system. Miyamoto considered charging again but held himself back.
"The sharpness of that blade… You cut through my bones like they were nothing," Ell’Hakan spoke in a contemplative tone. "I wonder, why is someone like you working for the Malefic’s Chosen? What do you have to gain by doing so?"
The Sword Saint just smirked to himself as he sheathed his blade. "What do you have to gain by invading the planet of another Chosen? Much less one who has nothing to do with you. You are the only one who chose to make an enemy, not him. In my eyes, the questionable decisions in this entire conflict are one-sided. There is an aggressor and a defender, with the natural inclination of man being to side with the defender."
Ell’Hakan looked at the Sword Saint a bit more before shaking his head. "You have no reason beyond personal sentiment? Do you honestly see your clan thriving more under the oppressive rule of the Order of the Malefic Viper than the United Cities Alliance? An alliance that is even protected by Valhal from outside forces? Meanwhile, the Order tends to make the areas they control living hells for those not part of their cult."
"I fail to comprehend the purpose of your words." Miyamoto smiled. "He who stands before you is nothing more than a simple lone swordsman. Order, Alliance, gods. Nothing else matters when two warriors meet. Unless you choose to continue this meeting as non-warriors, cease your needless words. I say this assuming you came here as a warrior to begin with, of course."
The nahoom’s smile faded, and Miyamoto knew something was coming. Underestimating his foe was something he would never do, and he prepared to draw.
Ell’Hakan raised his trident towards the sky. A beam of light descended upon him as Miyamoto saw the air shimmer. His water droplets began to evaporate, and his skin burned as the temperature rose even more than before. Up in the sky, the sun now hung right above his head.
"Scorching Noon."
Miyamoto also exploded with power, fully activating his boosting skill to stave off the constant exposure. Ell’Hakan also clearly did something similar, as his skin began glowing orange. The plains—now entirely free of vegetation—also glowed, and the Sword Saint felt the area itself feed whatever skill the alien was using.
Fighting a foe in their territory is always more complicated.
Taking a stance, the Sword Saint drew his blade once more and, with the draw, released a torrent of water as if he had just opened a floodgate. The nahoom was taken by surprise and sent blasting back, but Miyamoto followed the flow of water and made a downward cut.
His blade encountered the trident, the impact embedding the feet of his foe in the ground. The water covering his body allowed Miyamoto to ignore the sunlight for now, but he felt the draw on his resources.
Ell’Hakan’s trident seemed to explode, sending Miyamoto back a few steps. Refusing to lose momentum, the old man attacked again but was blocked. Blocked and countered. His speed fell behind his foe’s as he took a minor cut on the arm and another minor scratch on his thigh. Both wounds burned with golden flames, forcing him to expend even more energy putting them out.
Yet he attacked again. The flow of water was relentless, and so was he. After dodging an attack, he found an opening and stabbed forward. The blade extended and penetrated his foe, but as it was just a blade of water, it failed to cut through bone.
Ell’Hakan groaned and stumbled back, his eyes burning. He raised the trident and slammed it into the ground with both hands.
"Ember Chains."
The flames all around the old man suddenly condensed and formed chains as they came from all directions. He cut through several, but two managed to wrap around his one leg, tethering him to the ground and burning him.
"Sunwrath."
The entire world seemed to turn golden at that very moment. From above, a massive pillar of pure light and fire descended upon the lone, chained swordsman. He knew it was too late to dodge, so he used one of his rare defensive skills just as the attack hit.
Sunlight seared into the ground as everything around it burned, yet no one was caught within.
Miyamoto landed on the ground a few dozen meters to the left of it while taking a deep, tired breath. He had many nasty burns all over his body, and what little hair he had was already seared off. Where he had landed was where he had been only ten or so seconds ago.
"Time magic," Ell’Hakan recognized out loud. "Who the hell are you really?"
"A swordsman," Miyamoto simply answered.
This did not please his opponent, as another dozen or so, albeit far weaker, sunbeams shot down from the sky aimed at the old man. Not seeing himself be outdone, Miyamoto also began releasing ranged attacks, putting the alien on the defensive and leaving a few cuts here and there on his body.
He felt a hint of tiredness from constantly fighting under the intense sunlight, and he knew his foe was also getting tired. He knew by now he had more than fulfilled his task, and Ms. Wells had already tried to contact him once.
The old man had not answered, but he knew the outcome. One attempt to contact meant victory, two meant it was a draw, and three would have meant failure. Seeing as they had won, there was truly no reason but his own hubris to continue the fight.
But had Jake not said a bit more selfishness was healthy? If so, the old man would relish this opportunity to face a strong foe and show him that he, too, had not stopped growing stronger. A Chosen was a multiversally recognized title only given to supreme talents. Something many also apparently considered him. Miyamoto found it weird to call himself a talent, considering it was usually a title given to juniors, but he still wanted to prove himself.
For the longest time, he had been resistant to having a Patron. Aeon, the Primordial of Time, had convinced him that his stance was, in many ways, nonsensical. A Patron did not need to be someone you worshipped so much as a subtle guiding light. Moreover, the Sword Saint had found that he and his new Patron were more alike than one would perhaps expect.
While he had not taught Miyamoto much, the old man had learned a few things. The concept of time was vast and never-ending, and comprehending the nomological was as much about understanding yourself and your goals as it was understanding the world. In the same way, it also requires one to understand their position within this world.
Miyamoto knew he was a man that arguably should not even be alive. He had seen death more than once, and each time he had overcome it, or it just hadn’t been his time yet. He had been granted one more season. After his fight with Jake, he’d realized that in this changed world, it was no longer about accepting what you had been granted and making the best use of it. It was also about taking from the world.
His realizations had led to enlightenment and Transcendence. A Transcendence was viewed as the pinnacle of what one could achieve, but Miyamoto knew that wasn’t the case. Nothing could ever be truly perfect, and there was nothing that could not be honed. Nothing that could not be trained with and used in different ways.
This was the second thing his Patron had taught him. A Transcendence was far more than a single skill. It was a gateway and a Path. A recognition from the world itself.
Ell’Hakan regarded him as he levitated into the air. Miyamoto knew something big was coming, but he did not hold any fear. He sheathed his blade and bent his knees as he got into position.
"Well, then, swordsman," Ell’Hakan spoke, “please also assess me as I assess you. Shatter my expectations more."
His words were not spoken in a tone of mockery. There was genuine respect in his voice, and his request was not a joke either.
The old man would oblige.
In the sky above, the sun turned entirely red. The sky was bathed orange, and the world was set aflame. The only place untouched in the plains was a small bubble around the Sword Saint as he stood with closed eyes, focusing.
All of the fire and heat then began condensing above the floating figure. A second celestial object slowly formed as a small sun was born. Ell’Hakan’s entire body burned as he stabbed his trident into it, turning it entirely golden.
Lowering the spear, the sun followed and began descending towards the Sword Saint like a giant fireball of certain destruction.
"Sunfall."
The heat was overwhelming, and the soil and sand all around the old swordsman began to change. Small pits of lava appeared, the sand turned to glass, and everything that couldn’t burn melted. Yet as everything was at the zenith… the sky darkened.
A drop of water fell upon the lava that had formed, turning it into black obsidian. Clouds appeared and blotted out the sun as the Sword Saint changed. His wrinkled hand turned smooth, black hair grew from his temples, and for a moment in time, he was in the prime of his youth.
"Glimpse of Spring: Stormcut."
He unsheathed his blade as the heavens shook and the clouds parted.
Chapter 53
Miscalculations & a Third Meeting
The heat dispersed as the sun was severed in two. The world flashed as it exploded, blanketing the entire plains in flames that washed over the old swordsman. His stance held firm, and soon enough, all the fire stopped.
Clouds above were parted as if a giant blade had cut them open. Miyamoto lowered his blade, his body wrinkled again, and his black hair turned gray, with most of it falling off. At least the burned-off eyebrows and what little hair he’d had before getting it burned off had returned.
"A Transcendent…"
The rain had already stopped falling, and the sun above dimmed. The Sword Saint frowned and squinted as the form of Ell’Hakan was revealed. A part of his thigh and his entire left arm had been severed, but his stance remained strong.
Miyamoto had hoped to do more.
Ell’Hakan regarded his injuries as flames licked the wounds. The sun was no longer red, but gentle flames still descended to heal the enemy Chosen. The Sword Saint considered his next move. To have a single Glimpse was something he could do without any significant backlash, but more than that would lead to consequences. To fully use Springtime Advent was also an option, but one he would naturally prefer to do without.
Just as he considered all this, his opponent dismissed his trident and floated down, landing on the ground.
"You called it a glimpse," Ell’Hakan spoke. "Which must mean that, should you truly call upon it…" The alien sighed. "You asked for my assessment. It appears you entirely fell outside of any I could have possibly had before we fought, but now that we have clashed, I believe I understand. You are truly just an old swordsman, in all its purity and all its power. I thank you, but continuing this battle would be detrimental to both of us, wouldn’t it?"
Miyamoto did not disagree. "You, too, asked for my assessment. While you are powerful, you seem to walk different Paths. Writing a story and trying to form a legend is not something one can force, but something that is born from truly monumental events. You can try but never guarantee success. No strategy or plan will ever work perfectly… but I have a feeling you already knew this."
Ell’Hakan smiled. "Several minutes ago, I got the message that the Ashen Phantom Devourer had fallen. If your primary objective was to delay me, then I will wholeheartedly admit defeat. Several miscalculations were made, the biggest of which being the Malefic’s Chosen’s speed at getting back and, perhaps more importantly, your existence. I heard the natives of this world call you the Sword Saint. An earned name."
The old man simply nodded in recognition, seeing no need to speak anymore.
"Considering all this, I must say my goodbyes and bow out," Ell’Hakan said. “Once more, I thank you. This was an enlightening encounter. However, I will leave you with a warning. While you may not see it happening now, the Order of the Malefic Viper is a faction to be wary of. The Malefic’s Chosen may strike you as a person worth trusting, but I felt his instability. He would not make a good leader, and I find it highly probable that other forces will simply make use of him until those with actual power in the Order step up and take over. So decide. Either give this planet to the Order of the Malefic Viper, or find a way to push them off it entirely.”
Miyamoto frowned—not due to the words, but what was lacking. He felt no emotional manipulation at all, and while it was possible he could just not detect it, he didn’t feel that was the case.
"Another miscalculation you have is in regard to Jake Thayne,” the Sword Saint replied. “I do agree he is not a good leader, and I do not see that changing. Leading is simply not his Path, but you view him as solely chaotic. I see more than that. You are not the only one who has clashed with him and made an assessment, and it is my turn to apologize now. I trust my own assessment far more than yours, young man.”
"Fair enough. I hope, for your sake, your choice turns out for the best. If not, then I am sure countless factions in the multiverse will gladly offer you a position. Perhaps my biggest miscalculation was to focus so much on the Malefic’s Chosen and not those who had chosen to gather around him.
"Now, I had more I wanted to do and say, but staying here only puts me further at risk. It would be silly for me to stay, only to figure out the Malefic’s Chosen somehow had a teleportation circle set up or something akin to that, leaving me to face a battle between two monsters. So may we meet again, Sword Saint. It truly was a pleasure.”
The house had been broken during the fight, but it appeared that a teleportation circle had still been protected beneath the rubble. Ell’Hakan turned into flames and appeared atop it, and Miyamoto made no attempt to stop him as he teleported away, the circle exploding in his wake.
A minute or so passed as a figure of blood condensed beside the Sword Saint. Iskar, the former Monarch of Blood, looked at Miyamoto. "He left? I should have figured after that servant woman decided to end herself."
Miyamoto nodded. He took out a token and crushed it as he waited for Ms. Wells to contact him. He reckoned that by the time she did so, Ell’Hakan would already be far gone from Earth.
Perhaps for the better. Because Ell’Hakan was not the only one who had made major miscalculations.
Jake was about to leave towards where he had seen the nahoom when he remembered something even more important.
"Wait, where is the loot?" Jake asked the King.
The King just looked at Jake. "It is mine. I can make far better use of it, and this entire scenario only took place because of you. Killing the Ashen Phantom Devourer means a victory for you against an enemy Chosen, while it does little for me. Therefore, is it not only reasonable that I, at the very least, get the tangible bounty?"
"You could have just said you ninja-looted it," Jake said with quite a bit of snark. “No reason to try and justify yourself. This is why I don’t do group hunting, by the way." He then unfolded his wings and took to the sky towards where he had seen the little observer.
He was still waiting for word from the Sword Saint on how his confrontation with Ell’Hakan had gone. Jake was not afraid of the old man dying in the slightest, but there was the risk of him overextending himself using his Transcendence. Ell’Hakan dying was not even a potential outcome in his mind.
Flying over, Jake detected a presence there. One far more powerful than what he would expect of some nahoom scout or observer. One that also felt oddly familiar, though he could not place where he had felt it before.
As Jake got closer, he saw a surprising sight. A nahoom was lying on the ground, clearly unconscious, while someone in a suit of armor stood by him. On second inspection, the suit of armor was more like that of a golem or something, with no openings anywhere.
That was when Jake recognized him. More accurately, he recognized the armor. He recognized the feelings of smashing that armor into the ground, bending and tearing it apart as the person inside of it was made into a mushy soup of flesh, blood, and bones. Jake Identified him as he flew closer and landed a dozen or so meters away.
[Human – lvl 199]
He had to dig into his memory a little to recall the name. Thinking about it, this was only their third-ever time meeting, and Jake reckoned it would go the same way as every other encounter. Maybe… because he didn’t feel anything from the other party. Not a single shred of hostility or bloodlust. Due to the armor, Jake could not actually see the person himself, so it was hard to really say anything quite yet.
Hence, Jake opened with the most relevant question. "What the hell are you doing here?"
And a relevant question it was. Because what the hell was he doing there? Why had he knocked out the nahoom? Why had he clearly just been standing back and not trying to interfere with the fight? Based on his track record, trying to strike Jake mid-fight would totally be something he would do, so why hadn’t he?
