Stormblade 4 C51: The Black Tower (2)

51 - The Black Tower (2)

Tanat and I were both still holding back when we inched past the final trap—a gigantic beam of lightning that filled most of the hallway and oscillated back and forth—and stepped into what had to be the third-floor boss’s arena. Beyond the towering, yellow-white pillar of electricity was nothing. The floor still felt like brick below my feet, but even ten feet from the lightning beam’s strobing brightness, the world was pitch black.

Tanat tensed. Her sword rested in her hand, the blade hovering in a stance that wasn’t quite Mistwalk Forms, but was so close it was almost identical. I was a half-step behind her, in Cyclone, ready to cast.

And, after a moment’s hesitation, I summoned Cheddar.

The stormlight serpent’s light wasn’t enough to make the wide, domed room bright, but it did reveal the patterned floor—some squares made of ceramic tiling, others a diamond grid of portal metal, and still others crackling with static-emitting spikes six inches long.

And, on the far side, an impossibly-tall figure in a robe.

Lanternbearer Tol-Ariki: S-Rank

He loomed over both Tanat—who, despite her almost unnatural thinness, was quite tall—and me. A silver-gray beard tumbled from the robe, and two purple eyes glowered at us. He clapped a thick book closed with one hand while the other reached for a covered lantern.

I moved first. Stormfire Lance. It ripped across the gap, carrying my single Rainfall Charge—and Cloudburst. Tol-Ariki was clearly a mage boss, and the counter to mage bosses was silencing their spellcasting.

But even as the Stormfire Lance hit his robes, he stood. He hadn’t even been standing, and he’d loomed over us. Now, his head seemed to reach the ceiling. His robe shimmered purple and red, and he extended a single, long finger. Before either Tanat or I could react, it clicked a latch on the lantern, and sickly yellow light surged out at us.

I reacted instantly. Darkness dropped between Tol-Ariki and me, and the yellow light missed. But Tanat reacted, too. She leaped to the side. The beam cut across the battlefield, clipped her, then shut off. She hit the ground, rolling, her sword tucked against her body, then pushed herself back to her feet.

Then she gave me a quick thumbs-up. We’d figured out enough improvised sign language to signal we were fine.

I nodded. Thunderbolt Forms. I sprinted for all I had, cutting the distance between the gigantic man and me rapidly. As I closed in, I activated Thunderblade. But even as I did, the book snapped open, and pages poured out in my direction—and on every page, an active Binding glowed.

Tol-Ariki was a Scriptsmith, just like most of the Dark Citadel monsters.

I dodged the wave of papers; a few hit my armor, and roots grew across my boot as my pauldron shivered under the blows of a dozen ethereal hammers. But even as I spun back on the attack, the lantern flipped open again, and this time, I wasn’t ready. Light washed across my body.

The last time I’d felt something like this had been the Eldritch City portal, back at D-Rank. Back then, though, the Shoggoths had attacked my Mana. This boss’s lantern tore at my Stamina. Even as the lantern clicked shut and Tol-Ariki backpedaled away from Tanat, a wave of exhaustion slammed into me. I forced my body to fight it. This boss wouldn’t win that easily. But even that second of lantern-light had been enough to slow me down.

Tol-Ariki took advantage of it. Scripts rained down around him, and armored knights—all B-Rank, luckily—erupted from the papers. Tanat peeled off her attack, lightning rapier coming around to rip through the first of the newly summoned monsters. She killed a second, then reversed as the lantern flicked open again.

I didn’t bother with the armor.

Instead, I focused fire on the Lanternbearer. The summons didn’t matter; in fact, they were just bait. The lantern was the most critical part of the fight. Without it, Tol-Ariki was nothing but another Script-Smith, and I’d killed plenty of those before.

But I couldn’t tell Tanat that. All I could do was attack.

So I did. Nimbus Edge slashed across the boss’s robe. A burning, crackling wound erupted in smoke, but no blood. The lantern swung in an arc, tiny doors opening to vomit light. I did my best to dodge it. My counter caught the Lanternbearer in the chest—a good hit, but not what I needed.

Stance-shift. I backed off, dropping back into Cyclone Forms. My free hand summoned another of Brendan’s Stormfire Lances, and I sent it surging toward the boss. A script flew in the way, opening a portal that rebounded the spell toward me. I side-stepped, then reversed in place and bounced off the room’s wall as lantern-light clipped me.

The boss had defended himself, but that didn’t matter. Polarity Shift was already running.

The trap was already set.

I fired two more Stormfire Lances. One winged the boss’s lantern-bearing arm, and the light rocked precariously. The other slammed into a Script before it made contact. But that was fine. I’d been holding back the entire time we’d cleared the third floor, and I had plenty of Mana.

It was time to spend it.

Stormkin Avatar erupted from my core, the lightning-built form of my father hefting his sword and shield. He charged the third floor’s boss, and Tol-Ariki spun to face the sudden new threat. At the same time, Cheddar launched his own attack from above. A blazing sunbeam slammed into the boss’s back; he staggered.

And I shifted stances back to Thunderbolt.

Cutting Storm. There were plenty of Script-summoned targets to echo off of, so I didn’t bother pressing Tol-Ariki yet. My sword slammed into the nearest suit of armor. Wind and lightning echoed across the room, slicing into every enemy. Only a handful of armors dropped, but that didn’t matter. I’d landed a blow on the Lanternbearer’s back, and he spun to react to yet another threat.

That was all the window I needed. Nimbus Edge ripped forward. Thunderblade activated. The sword ripped across the boss’s arm once. Twice. Three times before he could even react. At the same time, a second sunbeam slammed across his body, and Dad’s sword punched into his shoulder.

The arm came off at the elbow with a horrific ripping sound. It wasn’t clean; my blows had shattered the bone, but muscle and flesh still held it together for a moment. Tol-Ariki screamed in agony. The lantern hit the ground, rolling and sending a kaleidoscope of yellow light dancing around the room. Exhaustion set in even harder than it had before.

Scripts. The boss still had Scripts. His book rose into the air, and pages began pouring from it. Scripts—dozens of them—started to activate all across the room. Towers of ice, magma pits, and shimmering storms of multicolored blades. Another squadron of armored suits stood, ready for battle, axes and hammers held high.

I whirled to face the new threat, but even as I did, Tanat’s sword crashed through Tol-Akiri’s ribcage and erupted out of his chest. She stabbed two more times, and the boss collapsed.

It took less than a minute for the four of us to mop up the living armor and end the fight from there. Silence—true silence—fell across the third floor.

◄▼►

The silence didn’t last long.

Before I even had time to pull my aura back in, Tanat started talking. Her voice sped up, and her arms waved wildly. She pointed at the stairwell rising in the middle of Tol-Akiri’s room, then upward, then slashed her arm across her body. I still couldn’t understand anything she said, but the message was clear.

Tanat was tired. She felt like we were winning, and she wanted to stop before assaulting the fourth floor.

So did I. Every muscle in my body screamed in exhaustion. But a different feeling—equally powerful, and much more welcome, screamed right back. This one came from my core.

Stormsteel Core had hit A-10.

I closed my eyes, dropping into a meditative stance. The God of Thunder had made it clear that Law-Learning would only get me so far, but even if I couldn’t understand a new Law, I needed to know what the skill was trying to do. It felt the same as every other skill did when it was about to force a Law-Learning experience. The familiar pressure was identical. For all I knew, if I reached out and forced the issue, I could push it to S-Rank.

Then, even as I pondered the skill’s near perfection, the pressure faded. No, not faded. Equalized. It wasn’t just in my core anymore. It was everywhere, pushing on every inch of my mind and body. And instead of being overwhelming, the pressure was simply…pleasant. Yes, pleasant, like a heavy blanket.

I could be content at the peak of A-Rank. I knew it immediately. This sensation was almost cloying, like it was begging me to stay. I could be happy here. This could be the pinnacle of my power, and at least part of me would accept that.

But not all of me.

So, instead of sitting and pondering the skill any further, I pushed myself to my feet and pulled up my resources.

Stamina: 55/500, Mana: 421/630

Then I strode toward the stairs.

I hadn’t gotten five steps when Tanat’s hand closed on my shoulder. She spun me around, a rapid-fire barrage of words slamming into me as her hands waved. I waited, listening and trying to understand.

Then, when she slowed, I started talking quietly. “I know. We have pushed forward. The Solo Portal’s close to falling. For you, the right thing is to stop and recover. I can’t afford that, though. People are counting on me, and the only way I can help them is to get stronger. That means I keep pushing.”

Another wave of words. This time, there were more questions in the babbling. I couldn’t tell what they were, but I knew they were questions.

“No, they can’t wait. They’re all in danger. Even the time we’ve spent here might’ve been too long. I can’t stop.”

Tanat’s eyes narrowed.

“Do you have family anywhere? I mean, that’s a pointless question. You can’t understand me anyway. For all I know, you’re actually a portal monster.” I sighed. “I wish Jessie were here, just to figure out how to talk to you.”

Jessie wasn’t here, though, so after another few seconds of listening to Tanat, I pushed her hand off my shoulder and started walking. “I’m going. You can come with me, or you can wait here. Either way, I have to keep fighting.”

It wasn’t just my friends, my family, or my allies in the Carlsbad Portal, either. It wasn’t even the looming threat of the God of Thunder, or the monsters I’d have to face when I stepped back through the glowing portal at the bottom of the stairs.

I wanted to fight. I still had strength left, and I didn’t want to leave it on the table. It didn’t matter if I was alone. I’d planned to be alone. And I’d always have Cheddar and Dad. I’d—at the very least—push my skills until I could attain S-Rank. Or I’d die trying. Alone, if I had to.

So, it was a surprise when Tanat cleared her throat and said the first words I understood. “Wait. I will come with you.”

◄▼►

Tanat, it turned out, had also improved a skill.

Her build was more typical than mine. She didn’t have the backing of a Paragon, and she wasn’t on a Path. One of her two weakest skills had just pushed to C-Rank, and with it, she’d gained the ability to understand and speak languages based on exposure.

And it turned out that Tanat was a very chatty Cathy.

As we fought through our first group of four S-Rank, fourth-floor suits of armor, she wouldn’t stop talking. I learned more than I ever needed to know about the Soaring Saber Sect—that they occupied a portal world without being portal monsters, that it was a sort of monastery world for them, and that they produced more S-Rankers than any of the other sects associated with Renoille. That was her world, or at least had been before she’d been given to the sect.

We were both bleeding heavily by the time that group died, and I hadn’t felt another, similar pressure.

“You’re trying to reach S-Rank?” Tanat asked. “What’s your method? Paragon cores are dangerous. They stunt your growth. And conquering the Black Tower…well, you’re a good partner, but I won’t let you claim the boss’s core for yourself. I need this. This is my Lonely Gate, and if I don’t clear it and hit S-Rank myself, the inner school will be locked to me forever.”

I recognized that statement for what it was. She was threatening me, but subtly. I shook my head. “I didn’t even know that clearing this Solo Portal would give me a simple path to S-Rank. No, I don’t need to steal the boss from you, Tanat. I’ve got my own way forward.” I didn’t explain what it was.

Two groups later, with my Stamina bottoming out and my Mana not far behind, my second skill hit A-10. Mistwalk Forms exerted a wave of pressure across me that gradually settled in next to Stormsteel Core. The blanket grew thicker, and I breathed until the pressure equalized.

And the entire time, Tanat didn’t stop talking about her life with the sect.

“Come on, let’s go,” I said, pointing down the hall past a triple-wall of arcing electrical beams. It looked a little like a laser security grid from the movies, and I threw myself through the first one, activated Windwalk, and jogged over the other two. Tanat followed, her route much tougher. By the time she made it across, her body was covered in burns, but she didn’t so much as mention them.

“Actually, Kade Noelstra, you are welcome to return to the Soaring Sabers with me,” she said, not even out of breath from her acrobatics. “The sect would learn much from you, and you could learn much from it in turn. If you have an alternative route to S-Rank that avoids the use of Lonely Gates, many of my fellow disciples would be interested. I know I would have, had I known fifteen years ago. This has been a long process. A good and healthy one, but a long one.”

“That long, huh?” I asked. We slammed into a Scriptbinder and another trio of knights. Steel clashed with portal metal, and lightning poured across the room. The armor went down fast, relatively speaking, but for the next five minutes, Tanat and I played cat and mouse with the Scriptbinder before she finally put her sword through the monster’s throat.

“Yes, that long. The Soaring Sabers do not judge by the length of time, but by the learning opportunities used. I have taken advantage of every part of this Lonely Gate. However, you are my match. I admit that. Not better, but differently trained. Your route appears to have been much faster. Many of my fellow outer school members chafe at the learning process and wish for more speed in their growth.”

I hesitated.

She nodded. “I thought as much. Consider the offer, Kade Noelstra. It may be of benefit to all.”

Then, mercifully, Tanat fell silent, and we kept fighting through the fourth—and hopefully, final—floor of the Solo Portal.