Shadow of the Abyss

What was a genius?

It was a question rattling in the mind of Lord Edwin Silvermane. He had been dubbed a genius once upon a time and had lived up to its title. Reaching the realm of Seventh Circle had been no easy feat. In all the realm, there had only been seven. Fewer for those of Eight and Ninth.

It had been on the name day of the King Serilious, when he had been dubbed the Lord of the Seven Crowns, that he revealed his Eight Circles to the Realm. That was nearly a hundred years ago. Some said he had made it to the Ninth; others believed it was his Sword, Ser Varquess, that had touched upon such a realm. He had been of the Eight Realms long before Serilious had been crowned.

Yet, as he peered over toward the boy of twelve, in the distance returning to the battlefield, a sense of shame washed over him. Seven Days And Seven Nights he fought, and here he was again. Edwin felt old and ashamed. In all the Realm, he had never seen a more Profane swordsmanship. It was brutal, vicious like the demons around him. Yet… it bore a regal cruelty if such a thing could exist.

"He's a monster," Lord Verrell said, overlooking the battlefield. He sounded grim, but he was smiling. "He's like a one-man army, him and that girl. They've felled as many as a thousand. More by my count alone. The Girl… Reina was it.

She inspires. Goddess of War, they call her. The Second Aidios."

"She parted the skies with a single arrow, felling hundreds, injuring thousands." Edwin wistfully said. 'And now the Church of the Sepith is looking after her.' he thought, not daring to say it aloud.

The day her arrow had split the skies, the Archbishop and the Master of the Iron Mask had descended from their Cathedral of Light to the blood-stained Wall to glimpse her. Edwin had never seen them so shaken. He nearly thought they'd have fallen to their knees the way they had spoken of her aura. But the way they had spoken of Altair had been no different than the way they spoke of Demons.

'They are going to kill him,' Edwin thought. He had owed the boy a great service. He had saved his daughter and counseled her in the affairs of politics and nobility. And had even granted him his wisdom. He'd not forget that.

'I'll protect the boy the best I could,' he silently vowed through a clenched fist.

***

When Altair Blackwood moved, it had been like a shadow, silent and swift. And when his sword moved, it roared like the crackle of thunder through the battlefield, exploring the brain of a nearby imp that splattered open like a melon.

'Grave of Night,' He'd thought, like a harbinger of death, 'Was meant to exterminate the night. The first Stance was to grant me control of the battlefield, to mirror Heaven and Hell, and to seize control of my surroundings.

The Second Stance granted me the ability to cut whatever resided within my domain, and the Third Stance was meant to Devour the Endless Night.' he closed his eyes, opening them with a profane gleam shrouded by a mist of Madness.

Shadowclaw shrieked with a howling cry of the wolf, and the flashing of Lord Blackwoods Twin Circle flickered above his head, crowning him. An arc of black-amethyst light swelled out of the edge of his blade in a gale of light, raw with mana, sweeping through dozens of imps with excessive ease.

He felled nearly twenty in a single stroke before the light faded, carving out a path he raced through. Hundreds of other paths opened as his sword danced.

Further out some twenty meters away, Reina's Greatsword was like a valiant dance of moonlight. Graceful like the ripples across a lake, her footsteps danced while her sword became like an insatiable storm. She wielded her greatsword with a single hand, carving through bodies, staining her cheeks red. Whirlwinds of sword light swept through her blade, following the semi-arcs of her blade.

'Oooooooooorrnnnnnnn," the horn upon the wall roared.

"GHOLLS!" someone upon the wall roared.

Startled, Altair barely glimpsed a vicious claw that flashed at his head. He ducked beneath it and kicked back as another claw came aimed at his head, alongside a dozen Fire Bolts. He danced away, parrying and dodging with Shadowclaw.

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Altair gave a simple frown, summoning his grimoire.

There, some meters away, he saw a three-meter beast of grey and black fur. It bore the face of a hyena, yet it stood on its feet like a human, with eyes that shone a spirling inferno of chaos within its depts.

There were two of them. And one bore an axe in its hand.

[Ding]

Gnoll

Type: Lesser Demon

Str: 130

Dex: 120

Con: 131

Wis: 60

Cha: 12

Mana: 21

Name: Altair Blackwood

Mana Circle: [Third Circle 0.041 → 10%]

Physique: First Vale Star

Class: [Prince of the Vale Lv 7 → 38]

Strength: 29 → 31

Dexterity: 37 → 68

Constitution: 61 → 123

Wisdom: 63 → 125

Charisma: 63 → 125

Mana: 28

'Will my sword be able to cut through its mane?' the Prince asked himself but still smiled nonetheless. Feeling a sliver of sweat trail down his brow. The gnolls were nearly twice his speed and three times his strength.

"Pesky human! Gomm! Will kill!" The Gnoll, with its hands around the axe, said in Infernal. Its voice was gruff, like a saw on wood. "Gomm with your Head."

"We'll see about that," Altair replied in its language as his eyes swelled with a burning might.

Presence crackled like a whip over the battlefield, bearing down on mortal and lesser demons like a god. Pressure caved the battlefield in a Purgatory of Abyss that brought hundreds to their knees as Altair activated Will of the Abyss for the first time.

[Will of the Abyss]

Passive: Transcend Limitations of the One across the Myriad Heavens. The Stronger the user's conviction, the stronger he may transcend.

Active: Creates a Domain fueled by the user's Willpower/Charisma to plunge those of weaker wills into an Abyss of Despair.

A storm that brought despair plunged itself through the eyes of the lesser demons as they stood frozen before the Prince.

[Lesser Demon, Gnoll has Fallen into Despair]

[All stats will be halved.]

[Lesser Demon, Imps has fallen Into Despair]

[All stats will be halved.]

[Lesser Demon Imp have been petrified and has become unable to move]

[DING]

[Will of the Abyss has removed all requirements of the evolution of Animal Instincts.]

[Animal Instincts [D] → Primal Instincts [F]

Primal Instincts [F]

Grade: Transcendent

Description: The user will be able to perceive the trajectory of both known and unknown in accordance with the Will of the World.

[Symmetry detected between Foresight and Primal Instincts]

As if a fog had vanished from his mind, replaced by a cool steel blade. Altair felt his body… shift as if it were correcting itself. From the way he held his sword to the way he stood and walked. It had all changed in accordance with his will and instincts, growing sharper as the seconds ebbed.

He moved, silent as a shadow and cruel like a demon.

"In battle, the second greatest tool is speed." He could still remember Iliana's words. "That Assassination attempt ought to have shown you your weakness. So watch carefully, for the next week, you'll learn my Movement Technique. With it, space will seem… meaningless. Though for you, simply being fast should be enough."

With a single step forward, hundreds of thousands of small webs illuminated his mind's eye, glistering nodes. Mana points in which were his to move and manipulate within a domain of ten meters of each step. It had been known as the Kings Domain, but the technique was called—

"Sovereign's Gale"

He vanished, or at least he appeared to by the gnolls, Imps, and mortals alike. By the time the two gnolls had glimpsed his shadow. Severing Edge had already cut across the two Gnolls. Altair had figured if his sword cut light, why not a Lesser Demon? He had been half right, managing to cut nearly four inches into their throats, but no more.

He growled and cut again three more times before their heads rolled.

[Lesser Demon, Gnoll Felled Exp Gained]

[Lesser Demon, Gnoll Felled Exp Gained]

[Level Up]

Pale face, feeling an entire circle drain away in the blink of an eye, Altair hurriedly tossed a single Gnoll into his ring and shouted his retreat to Riena, who followed. He had wanted to take more, but a single one weighed 350 lbs, and Drupnir could only hold 500 lbs.

Reina had been in no better condition with a queasiness in her stomach from the number of times she used her Movement Art, Broken Moon, much less her sword arts.

Having Kirr and Jorm cover their retreat, an unsettling heat raced up the prince's arms and legs, spreading up his neck. He had slightly overdone it, and now he was feeling a backlash. Altair had long figured none of his skills were meant to be used by mortals. They were skills for Transcendence or stronger.

When at last they were safe, Altair toppled to the ground. His legs were burning with a raw numbness, and his arms… well, he couldn't feel them.

"Come on, Art." Ren snatched him up from under the arm and dragged him forward closer to the wall and out of sight of the war front. She pulled him to their tent. Pale and wary.

"You overdid it way too much," Reina groaned, entering their pavilion. She collapsed three steps short of their new bed, free of demon blood.

Covered in sweat, blood, and God knows what else, the duo lay there gasping for air. Physically drained.

"We aren't winning this battle, are we?"

Altair hadn't been uncertain who spoke those words. But it hung in the air.

Despite their best effort, Altair and Reina were only two people. Kuu was but a child. And Kirr and Jorm, while effective, were slightly less efficient due to this world's restrictions. Mana could not linger for long in the open. That restricted Jorms Phoenix Flame and Kirrs Lightning.

He sighed. No matter how much they killed. There would always be another demon to take its place.

"I wouldn't say no to a bath right now." He looked up to where the patch lingered over the ceiling of his pavilion, where the imp fell through. " And a nice cold tankard of ale."

No, sooner, he felt Raina shudder before breaking off into laughter. "When did my Art become so boujee?"