The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 903: Reliance on Power

I gasped. "Obliterated?"

Elise giggled at my expression. "Not literally, Xiv. But whatever happened, the two started sparring like this every single day. They don’t use any mana at all, just swords and skill."

"I...I guess that makes more sense then. But still..."

I sighed, shaking my head. Luke was a lot like Soltair when it came to combat. He possessed absurd power, enough that he’d been able to overwhelm Rash’alon, a literal curse demon lord, with the power of his curses. But while he’d spent his entire life fighting, he lacked the sheer experience of an immortal demon like Fyren. If it were just a contest of skill, how could he ever compete? He wasn’t even twenty yet.

Wait...was he?

I frowned, tilting my head at the thought. How old was Luke? I couldn’t remember ever actually asking him before. I just knew he wasn’t much older than me, or at least, my body. Not that my soul was much older, anyway. Counting my years in my last world and the few I’d spent in Enusia, I would be about twenty myself.

The ring of steel startled me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see the two had crossed blades. Fyren towered a half foot over look, and had far broader shoulders, but his movements were measured and controlled. Luke’s sword was clumsy and aggressive in comparison, and within seconds of the first clash, Fyren slipped under his guard with his massive sword, slapping him on the side with the flat of his blade. Lue hissed, jumping back and rubbing his side.

"Damn, that stings," he muttered.

"Five seconds. Much better than yesterday," Fyren said with an approving nod.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t patronize me."

Fyren spread his arms wide, letting his sword trail away from his body. "I’d never dream of it. Now, come at me again."

They circled each other, exchanging more blows. But every time, Luke came away with another bruise or scrape. Fyren’s sword, despite its massive size, moved like a blade of grass in the wind. At times, Luke’s sword seemed to avoid it on purpose, letting the demon send the apostle stumbling back. As Luke would catch his breath, Fyren would give pointers, often bluntly, ruthlessly pointing out the flaws in his approach. It was almost painful to watch, but every time, Luke got up again and again, gritting his teeth and fighting on.

"He’s determined, I’ll give him that," Elise said, sipping her tea. "But after seeing this, I think I understand why Fyren’s irritated. The inquisitor he fought should have won their fight. Luke only scraped through because of his unique aura. It was pure luck."

The ring of swords rang out yet again, but this time, Fyren took the offensive. Luke was forced back with every blow, retreating in a wide circle so as to never be backed up against the trees or courtyard wall. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his breathing came in ragged pants. I’d never seen him pushed so hard before, and honestly, hadn’t even known an eighth-level being Ike him could get that tired. I’d seen them run for days on end without pause, food, or rest.

What is it? Like seeing him all hot and sweaty?" Elise teased.

"Just...reminiscing, I guess," I said, resting my chin on my hand. "Fyren used to fight Soltair and Trithe like this, only both at once. He was only fourth-level back then, while they were both seventh. He never asked them to curb their strength, yet he never came close to losing."

"Fourth? Wasn’t he just hiding his strength when he traveled with you? That’s what I always assumed," Elise said.

I looked at her, tilting my head. "Hmm? I don’t think so, why?"

She pursed her lips. "That doesn’t make a lot of sense. I don’t know anything about him, but even I can tell he’s not a normal demon. Most demons haven’t even evolved to the fourth level, much less have such a coherent humanoid form and intelligence. And what about when he left to kill the dragon? Didn’t you say he stopped hiding his power and jumped right to eighth?"

"I...don’t think so? From what it looked like, he absorbed all the infernal mana of the city during the attack. The demonkin cult killed a ninth-level mage there, so I figured he was absorbing her mana."

"Can a demon do that? Jump from fourth to eighth level without another evolution?"

"Sure, they do it all the time, right, Kahlen?’

I glanced at the blade demon standing guard outside the gazebo. He hesitated, a look of uncertainty flashing across his face.

"Right?" I prompted, voice wavering slightly.

"Of course, my Lady. I underwent no evolution when I transcended to the seventh."

"But he did on sixth," Elise said.

I nodded, chewing on my lip. Even with the primordial crest, Fyren’s thoughts were an uncertainty. Borealis, for instance, I could skim with a thought, picking up anything from his current intentions to his emotions. But from Fyren, it was like looking into a clouded pool. I saw only what he allowed to appear on the surface.

But there was even more than Elise knew. Fyren had an arbiter’s amulet, an artifact exclusively given to those beings the gods chose to interfere in mortal worlds. Fate had once mentioned that only one had ever been unaccounted for. It seemed absurd that, amongst the eternities, Fyren, a demon who had appeared in a fourth-level gate, would possess that. And yet he barely seemed to hide it, wearing it openly around his neck. If that was what allowed him to take a human form, as he claimed, then had he even truly evolved at all? His demon form was of the most generic evolved fire demon, usually the first look one had after evolving from a scion. It hadn’t been strange, knowing he’d come from a fourth-level gate, but I’d never really thought about it before.

"Maybe something happened to him, and he’s trapped without being able to evolve," I wondered aloud. "Could that be why he formed a primordial mark with me? To guarantee himself an evolution through my divinity?"

Kahlen coughed, staring at me before catching himself and looking away. It wasn’t like him to lose composure, even when bantering with Jenna. Was that some kind of confirmation? Or was I totally off?

"I wish he’d just tell me his plans," I sighed, rubbing my horn irritably.

After an hour, the two finally finished their sparring. Luke returned to us and collapsed into his chair, sweating profusely and covered in forming bruises. I reached out, touching his hand, and started to gather mana for a healing spell when a sudden burning sensation in my soul caused me to gasp.

"Xiviyah? What is it?" he asked, leaning forward, looking into my eyes.

I winced, holding back a groan as I let go of my mana, and the pain faded.

"I thought you weren’t supposed to use your mana for a while," Elise asked.

"I wasn’t," I mumbled, touching my chest, wincing. "Let’s keep this between us, please?"

Elise chuckled, waving her hand and casting the third-level life spell I’d been about to. Luke relaxed as it washed over him, the bruises vanishing and exhaustion leaving him.

"Amazing how effective low-level spells still are," he said.

"That’s what happens when you don’t reinforce your body with mana. Even a ninth-level can be hurt or killed by someone far weaker if they lower their guard," Fyren said, striding up to us. "As for you, Xiviyah, I would prefer it if you visited Fate. I felt the reaction from across the courtyard. Are you certain the life hero managed to purge all the taint from your soul?"

"She said she got most of it," I said, not meeting his eyes.

"Then see if your goddess can do more. I don’t like you weakened like this," he said, folding his arms.

"I will," I muttered, looking down, gripping my skirt.

Luke laid his hand on mine, and I looked up into his eyes. He offered me a comforting smile.

"Mind if I join you? It’s been a while since I’ve seen your realm."

"You want to go? Really?" I perked up, the tip of my tail twitching. Hadn’t he said he didn’t like it that much?

"If it’s with you, then yes."

Elise chuckled, standing. "Then I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve got an audience with lord Splitbark later today that I can’t miss."

"I thought you said they weren’t going anywhere?" I asked.

She shrugged. ’Doesn’t mean I can’t try. Besides, now that you’re awake, the inquisitors will know their plot failed entirely."

"We should destroy them now, before they get the courage to strike again," Fyren said.

"No, we can’t, " I answered.

He and Luke both looked at me, frowning. I ducked my head.

"I mean, um, that’s not why we’re here. And I don’t think the ones in Sylvarus were directly responsible for that attack. They knew too little and claimed to be sent by the Pope. I think they just teleported here through the shard.’

"What does it matter? They’ll all die in the end," Luke said.

"Xiviyah’s right," Elise said, "If we want any chance of saving the elves, we can’t go starting a war."

"I still don’t see why they matter, but if that’s what you want, I’ll respect it. For now," Luke said.

"Thanks."

I gave him a smile, which he returned. He let his hand linger on mine a moment longer before he rose and offered it back to me and helping me to my feet.

"Can you open the gate?" Fyren asked.

I summoned my staff, not letting the pain show on my face. "It’s fine. It’s different than casting a spell," I lied. This kind of pain was something I’d lived with for years. I’d only cracked before because I hadn’t been prepared for it.

With a wave of my staff, the stars of Haven appeared, taking Luke and me into the realm.