Path of Transcendence 1: Ultimatum of the Nameless God (41 page)

“Where do you think you're running to cunt? There's no fucking escape for you.” Even though my voice is a low growl, the force of the ki in it vibrates through the bodies of everyone present.

I glance at Jinmu, calmly donning his armor. No, it does not go through everyone. His own ki is strong enough to completely block mine out. He was nowhere near that strong a couple of months ago. What happened with him?

Focusing on Xenia, I direct the flight of Perzey's swords. Faster than an arrow in flight, they streak toward Xenia and pierce her, one in her cunt and one up her ass.

“AAAAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAA! AAAAA! AAA! AAAAAAAAAA!”

Her shrieks bring a smile to my face. The wounds are mortal, but not instantly fatal. She should last five to ten minutes, maybe longer if she is strong enough. However, they are nowhere near painful enough.

“Remember the forge.”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

Xenia's shriek sounds like the howls of the damned. Her back arches and she starts to flop about wildly. Her nails tear ragged, bloody lines into her belly. Flames burst from her stomach, and Xenia flops bonelessly to the ground.

I hold up my arm and a red-orange, glowing sword tears out Xenia's body. Flying to me, the flat of its blade slaps against my still bleeding wound. With the gash cauterized, the sword falls to the ground, lifeless.

The Divine Wind members are staring at me in horror. Fighting with one another to get as far away from me as possible.

Jinmu looks around. “Since you are this cowardly, you may all leave.”

A wild stampede ensues as the courtyard empties. The Divine Wind members flee down the path to the dock, many of them still stark naked from their party exertions. Trantor and Delilah remain, their faces paler than fresh snow.

I look at three stone longboats approaching from the Great Citadel. It will only be a minute or so, before they arrive.

“Your friends are almost here.”

Jinmu frowns, without glancing at the longboats. “They are not my friends. I only had one friend left, and I am about to sell him for my daughter.”

“As much as I despise Mei, I would have helped you save her.”

Jinmu lets out a soft sigh. “You way would have taken too long. The Central Fane of Yggr can get me outside the Labyrinth in a month.”

I hold my blades out to my sides at a downward angle. Their edges shimmering with ki generated force. “I will not be sold to DokkAlfar.”

Jinmu raises his hands to shoulder height, his katana pointing toward the sky, next to his his head.

We do not bow. This is not a duel. We are no longer friends. Auras flare outward from our bodies. Mine is dark an oppressive. Jinmu's is fierce and domineering.

More than a hundred feet separate us, but we only need one step each to close the distance. Our fighting styles are as different as our weapon choices. I have come to appreciate Shadow Fist's endemic nature, using unending attacks to overwhelm and crush my enemy.

Urehara Style Martial Arts are different. The style focus on precision strikes against vulnerable and or vital points on the body. Most attacks are performed in a fast in and out manner, followed by circling and feints, until another opportunity presents itself.

As we clash, Jinmu slashes at the ligaments in the side of my knees, but I block it. My slash to his side is avoided as he continues past me. In a fraction of a second, the exchange is over, and we turn to face each other again.

We clash over and over. With dozens of passes, I am still unable to pins him down and for a continued exchange.

The stone longboats have anchored to the wall. DokkAlfar are debarking from them, and watching our fight from atop the wall. Kra'cha'len is among them.

Jinmu's armor and katana have been Patterned. The work is poorly done, but they are still Items of Power. He is using all of his ki to enhance his physical ability.

“My heart is steel. Steel is the blood and bone of the Smith. While the flame of my soul burns, the steel of my sword will never break and never dull.”

A Silver sheen surrounds my sword, the visible representation of the spell pattern enhancing it. I shift all of my ki into my body.

When Jinmu attempts to disengage from our clash, my step twists space, and I stay in front of him. My swords attack from high and low, left and right. Jinmu is quickly pushed into a defensive posture. Using only one sword, he can apply more power to his attacks, but he cannot easily defend against two weapons rapidly attacking.

We circle round and round. Jinmu tries to disengage in all directions, but every time, I move in front of him. My swords hit him once, five times, fifteen times, but each time he is able to move or twist his body enough to keep me from penetrating his armor. If it was not for the Patterning, poorly done as it is, I would have shattered his armor a dozen times already.

“Your skill is truly a frightening thing to behold. Even after being Transcended, I cannot beat you in a fair fight. That art you practice could be called cheating.”

What does he mean  by “being Transcended?” Is that why his so much stronger? Did he become a Transcendent? That does not seem right. He is pathetically weak compared to those Dvergar Transcendents.

“There's no cheating in a fight to the death. There is only living and dying. You taught me that, when I was still five years old.”

Jinmu smiles. “True, but I am not trying to kill you. The DokkAlfar want you alive. If not, I might not have agreed to their price.”

My eyes flicker to the wall and back. I have no worries Jinmu will be able to attack me unawares. I can feel every move of both his katana and armor in my heart and soul.

“It would be more merciful to kill me than turn me over to them.”

Jinmu uses English. “If you are alive, you will one day escape. If anyone can endure and escape, it will be you. I am sorry for this.”

“Greatest of Gods, bring Judgment upon this human Named Mark McGuinness.”

There is no sound I can hear. There is no Power I can feel. Still, I am hit from all directions at once, with enough force to make me think I am being hit by supersonic freight trains. The agony suddenly flaring through my entire body causes my muscles to spasm, making me stumble.

Jinmu's fists, elbows, and feet begin to hammer into me. Strike after strike, each blow hits a vital or vulnerable area: my balls, the nerve clusters at the back of the jaw, my armpits, my throat. He controls his power enough to not do significant damage, but I still cannot fight  back. It takes almost a minute, but he finally beats me to the ground. Taking a sigil engraved black collar out of his dimensional belt, the one I took from the frog for him, Jinmu clasps it on my neck. The sigils flare brightly for a moment, before going dull again.

I no longer have any awareness of my ki or mana.

“Having to call on the Great God's aid to subdue on non-Transcendent human. I do not know if I should praise him or scorn you.” Kra'cha'len's voice is mockery incarnate.

Jinmu turns to him. “I do not care which you do. Brand is without doubt the single greatest warrior the Earth has produced, since the Kensai. Just give me what was promised.”

Kra'cha'len smirks and backhandedly gestures to a DokkAlfar beside him. “Raider-Captain take this Priest to the the Tren'fon Array.”

The Raider-Captain steps forward. There is a trace of fear visible in his eyes. “Honorable Priest please board my ship. I will make the journey as swift as possible.”

Jinmu boards the stone longboat, with Delilah and Trantor at his heels.

Kra'cha'len watches the longboat streak away to the north. When the longboat disappears behind the mountain, he turns to look at me.

“You were given the chance to willingly serve the Great God. You should not have turned down such a generous offer. With your potential, you would have risen to a high position among the trash. The Great God might have even Transcended you. Now, you will be nothing but a gladiatorial slave and die in an arena for our amusement.”

I force myself to stand. “What the fuck is so important about me? Why did you go to such lengths to get me?”

Kra'cha'len laughs so hard his alabaster skin turns nearly scarlet. “You mean nothing to us. We could not care less about you. You turned us down, so we would have slaughtered you, like the animal you are, the next time we encountered you.

“Jinmu is the one we care about. His strength as a Medium is nearly unprecedented. He will rise high in the service of the Great God. You were nothing but a means to break him. One by one, we will force him to betray everything he cares about, until he has nothing but the Great God left.”

A female DokkAlfar is standing next to Kra'cha'len. Her snowy white skin is tattooed in the patterns of an Umbral Sorcerer, but she is dressed like a bondage queen. Her boots reach to mid thigh and are strapped to a leather garter belt. Her leather, bikini style panties have no crotch, and I can see the glint of metal from her cunt, every time she moves. Her leather bra just cups the undersides of her small tits, leaving her pierced nipple sticking out. Her ears have lines of piercings, and a needle is piercing her nose. Her long silver hair, that reaches to the backs of her knees, is gathered into a pony tail at the top of her head.

“Mighty Priest-Wizard, did you bring me here, that I might take him for my stable?”

Kra'cha'len looks at the bondage queen. “Yes, Elan'fer'sha. He is yours. Use him, until he is nothing but raw meat, and fight him, until he dies.”

“Thank you, Lord.”

Elan'fer'sha struts down the ramp from the wall and up to me. Her stiletto heeled boots let her look down at me. She stares into my eyes for a few moments, before grabbing my collar. After licking my cheek, her whispering breath tickles my ear.

“I am going to enjoy you human. So much hate. So much anger. So much Power. I am going to bleed you dry, while you earn me a fortune in the arenas.”

End of Path of Transcendence

Book 1

Ultimatum of the Nameless God