Empyrean Blacksmith Chapter 496: Nature Of Nurture

CHAPTER 496

NATURE OF NURTURE

A string of vines bored through the earth, forming man-sized tunnels through it, form the bottom of the mountain all the way to the halfway up-top set of platforms. Nearly a hundred tunnels altogether existed leading ten thousand people on a rapid climb. Myveen led the charge, her body wrapped in a peculiar, lime sheen, small, b.u.t.terfly-shaped spirits dancing around her figure, s.h.i.+mmering.

She had a look of resolve on her face, her fingers rapidly weaving the Qi in her surroundings, wearing the rock around her thin. It all went according to her calculations; they broke free of the tunnels five minutes into their climb, reaching the point where they could overlook the entire Mountain Pa.s.s down below, bombarding it with the cover fire.

"OUT, OUT, OUT!! SET THE FORMATIONS!!!" she cried out on top of her voice as she saw the front lines being pushed back, hundreds dying by minute, a balding figure s.h.i.+ning in resplendent gold fighting back an army all on his own.

Figures, each as fearless as the last, darted out of the tunnels and lined up, forming rows after rows of long-range cultivators. She didn't even have to order them to fire as the Arts quickly lit up the sky like fireworks. She stood muted for a moment, admiring and lamenting the picture, before snapping her fingers back to work, grabbing at the edge of her platform. From the tips of her fingers, like little snakes, green vines began sprouting, expanding outwardly like tentacles, forming a net above them that temporarily blocked the arts of the split enemy force charged with dealing with them.

Qi swelled her veins, causing her muscles to ache; she was not the fighter per se, more of a support. However, those roles didn't exist today -- in this sort of carnage, where heads were flowing like rain, she couldn't afford to sit back in the comfort, supporting others. Just like the young and the old, she set her heart to defending this place. It was beautiful, beyond beautiful. Too beautiful to let it become corrupted like the rest of the world.

She glanced briefly at the distance where Hannah suddenly vanished alongside the members of Descent. Her eyes s.h.i.+mmered in pride, wondering how can she be called the Master of someone like that. Yet, Hannah called her that without reservation -- be it in private or in front of everyone. As though the memory kindled the fire in her heart, she cried louder, ignoring the pain that was pulsating through her body and leaping into the sky all of a sudden.

Thick vines wrapped around her body, forming a quasi-armor of sorts, propelling her into the incoming force of nearly fifty. While the world around her repeatedly exploded, shockwaves rippling without a stop, the mountains themselves shaking, the s.p.a.ce ripped open and healed time and again ceaselessly, she ignored all of it, punching out with her right arm. The movement caused the vines sitting perched on her right shoulder to wiggle, exploding into a growth sprout, tangling around her arm in a spiral fas.h.i.+on and exploding like a beam from her fist.

They pierced through nearly twenty souls, cruising through their hearts as though they were made out of paper. The vines jolted when they reached the end of their trajectory as Myveen swiped her arm inwardly, toward her chest, the vines following the motion. Over two dozen halved corpses fell, raining blood upon the beyond-bloodied world, cries of anguish finally reaching her. Her gut wrenched for a moment, though she discarded the feeling.

"WATCH OUT!!" she barely heard the distant voice, turning toward it, as a burning boulder crashed into her side, swatting her from the sky directly into the steep slope of the mountain. She bore a deep hole into the mountainside, crying out in pain till her throat burned. Her entire right arm, and most of the right side of her chest, was gone. The right side of her face was completely disfigured, her bones sticking out, each and every one broken.

She trembled and shook, lying in the darkness of the bore-in, contemplating for a moment to just stay there, in the cold, in the dark, away from the carnage outside. She couldn't, however. She knew. While everyone else fought, leaving all the had on the blood-laden rivers, she couldn't whimper and withdraw. She knew no one would judge her if she did. In fact, plenty would probably suggest she does exactly that due to her state. But, she couldn't. Something much stronger than the instinct to survive awoke within her. Something she hadn't felt since the long-gone days of her youth when she was just an aspiring cultivator roaming the world in search of opportunities. A desire to protect, a desire to overcome herself, her own limits.

Using her trembling, left arm, she barely managed to sit up, each one of her movements causing her bones to creak and weep. For a moment she thought she'd pa.s.s out because of the pain, though she managed to endure.

Step by step, each harder than the last, she began climbing out of the hole her body formed. She had no Qi to speak of; she had no fuel to push her onwards beyond the sheer resilience of her Will. Holding onto the jagged walls, limping with her half-healthy left leg, she continued. She stumbled. Fell. Cut herself. Bled. Cursed. Got back up. And walked again. The fall into the mountain seemed so short, yet the climb seemed to stretch into eternity.

At last, she could see it -- the light. It continued flas.h.i.+ng, sometimes in pleasant emerald, other times in warming gold, then another in terrible crimson, and then azure, white, silver, ashen, even black from time to time. She held her head up high, gaining speed somehow.

Finally, her mind thought lethargically as she reached the edge, looking out into the world. Just then, her heart froze like the distant North. The frontlines had nearly collapsed, already pushed well beyond the Mountain Pa.s.s. Both flanks, hers and t.i.tus' were gone, each and every single person save for her dead. And, perhaps worst of all, she saw the backline -- even further beyond the temporary camp of command -- in shambles. Infighting -- infighting everywhere. She couldn't understand it; her slow, tired, pained mind couldn't process what she was seeing.

"... w-what..." she mumbled, sitting down, unable to stand up any longer, her legs giving in.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" an unfamiliar voice spoke to her from the side. Though startled, she had no strength to respond properly, barely managing to s.h.i.+ft her head sideways and look at the figure. It was a man, draped in simple clothes, looking at her with a strange gaze. His blue eyes seemed otherworldly, his golden hair draped gently over the sides of his head. It was then that she saw it -- '8' carved into his forehead -- her mind spiraling. "This... is what 'cathartic' feels like, no?"

"... y-you... you're... supposed to be dead..." Myveen mumbled weakly.

"... I suppose," the man replied, chuckling bitterly. "That lad really did me in. Had I been a moment slower, he truly would have carved me dead. Now... he's paying for his negligence."

"... y-you... won't get away... with it..." Myveen said, her shoulder slumping, her eyes dulling. "They'll... annihilate you..."

"I keep hearing that, yet, here we stand still," Eight said, crouching down next to Myveen, pulling her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You've chosen the wrong side, I'm afraid. He was never supposed to even stand a chance. Yet, he confused us. Led us astray. Played us. And, as all such people are wont to do, he got conceited. Arrogant. He was even that stupid to stand up to One. Had he simply pretended to be much weaker, letting One beat him slightly, none of this would have happened, you know? One wouldn't have joined, Primes wouldn't have been included, and we truly might have lost with the element of surprise. However, he's too vain. Unwilling to suffer a loss for future victories. Tell me... what do you think he'll feel once he steps out of that h.e.l.l up there? Anger? Sadness? Who will he blame? Himself? Us? The world?"

"... you... morons," Myveen said, smiling strangely as she closed her eyes. "His battle... was never... with you lot. In his eyes, you are nothing. If he didn't care... care so much about the... rest of us... he would have ended this stupidity... a long... long time ago. I should... thank you, actually," she added, the last remnants of Qi in her body wrapping around her heart. "For unchaining him. See you... soon..."

Something inside her snapped, a few trails of blood suddenly trickling on the edges of her lips. Eight held onto her chin for a little while longer before letting go as her body slumped sideways and over, tumbling over the edge, falling into the abyss down below.

"GO, f.u.c.kING GO!!! RETREAT AND FORM ANOTHER LINE FURTHER BACK!!" Cain screamed at the stunned Alex as the latter tried to join him in a rush to the far rear line.

"But--"

"Oh, for the love of all that is holy!!" the old man slapped him gently across the head, waking him from his stupor. "We're the only ones left Alex. Look around. All the others are younglings, terrified, frozen. Take Ivon, take all who still breathe, and run. We stand no chance here. Regroup with the reinforcements, wait for the Dragons, and come back to reinforce Hannah, Lino, and Ella afterward."

"... you'll die if we leave you." Alex said.

"Aye, I will," Cain nodded, stroking his beard, smiling. "That's why you better choose my successor properly. I can't have Qe'll's dying out with me." Alex stared into the old man's eyes for a seeming eternity, until the latter chuckled, shaking his head. "Go, lad. You've yet to live, just like the rest of 'em. Leave the martyrdom to the old bones like me. As they say," Cain turned his back to him, back seemingly so large they encapsulated the world. "Martyrdom is for the old; vengeance is for the young. Let's fulfill our roles properly, shall we?"

As his last words faded, so did he. Alex remained frozen for a few more seconds before snapping back to it, gritting his teeth and turning around -- ordering a retreat. They were beaten -- soundly. Though it was impossible to calculate at the moment, he wagered their loses went into six digits. They were outnumbered, outsmarted, and outfought. There was nothing left for them here, he knew. It was just a single battle; he'd lost plenty of single battles but ended up winning the wars before. Yet, this one was different. Sourer. Bitter. Painful. Eerily... hopeless.