Chương 93: 27 – Interlude: Earth Versus Wind - Part Two

Flight skill must exceed two hundred. Probably three hundred or higher, considering just how smoothly she's hovering. Wind blade sent from ten feet away. Can exert control over air that has been turned to earth. Either strong enough to prevent the control I gain over the air when using the Quake Blade, or she has Earth magic too. Unlikely. Wind and earth are opposed. Completely confident. Does not fear a squad. Amusement is not feigned. Not sweating. Not cold despite the frozen air.

Something unusual about her voice. She is far enough above me that hearing her should be difficult, but it isn't. Dangerous. Very Dangerous. Do not engage. Observe was a useful skill for a soldier. It gave generalities that became more accurate the higher its level was. He cut off the jumbled assortment of impressions before it could become distracting. His own level in the skill wasn't very high, but it was worth using sometimes.

It didn't give any information he couldn't have gleaned on his own, but it sped up the general observation process, and what it told him made his blood run cold. He couldn't see her level. He was a modest thirty one. The idea that her level was so high that he couldn't see it made him shiver.

"Thank you… for letting them go," he said.

"They don't matter much, really," she replied as she fell to the ground. Once, that would've brought a smile to his lips. An opponent on the ground was always within his awareness. Now that he could feel the air, too, he always had an advantage. The fact that he hadn't already killed this woman meant that he was probably drastically outclassed. Combat was his best skill, followed by the three staples. Earth Magic came in a distant fifth with only eighty points. He didn't think any of it would matter.

"They matter to me," he said.

"Why aren't you running, too?" she asked.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm overjoyed to get a good fight, and I am specifically here for you. Why stay?" The tableau of chatting with an enemy who was probably about to kill him felt strange.

"I suspect I wouldn't get far. It isn't every day I run across a mage who can fly. Even Eschal doesn't produce wind mages at that caliber often."

"You're right. You've delayed me. You personally. I'm impressed, but also irritated. We should've already been at Denarla by this point, but instead we are stuck here, purging rats in a dilapidated ruin. My generals assure me that eliminating Neogon is necessary for any attempt at forward progress. For all my power, I cannot destroy an army alone. But a nuisance, killing my winged ones? That I can purge." Well. If she was just going to spill out state secrets, far be it from him to prevent her from talking. Still…

my generals? Who was this woman to claim ownership of the Eschal army?

"I would've thought the paste was delaying you more than me," he said. She barked a laugh.

"It shocked us at first, I admit, but Eschal is better prepared for such an attack than any army in the world. You, on the other hand… wielding Wind Magic as if it were Earth? That's interesting." A shiver crawled down his spine. Suddenly, he very much wished he had run away. Still, in for a copper, in for a gold.

"Are you the witch who attacked the central army?" he asked bluntly. She gave a trill laugh. She was beautiful. She would've been stunning if not for the slightly manic sneer on her face.

"My, you Tacurians do get news quickly. That was only a few weeks ago. Yes, that was me," she said.

"A resounding failure, on my part."

"And… who are you?" he asked, worriedly.

"I am Freyna. Recently crowned queen of all Eschal," she said. She was young. Either early or middle of the way into her twenties. He could tell she was strong. Observe alone had told him that much… but queen of an entire country? One that had proudly boasted of its leading council for decades?

"I sense your incredulity. No matter. You will die. And if you don't, you will learn."

"I suppose that explains why you're being so free with information," he grumbled. The girl smirked.

"You have an old soul. Grey-haired veterans I've spoken to in this manner have not been so cordial. I might let you live after all." There was a change in the air. Not movement. No actual attempt to spend mana or draw weapons. He'd had his sword drawn the entire time, but a mental shift took over both of them. A readiness.

"How bloody courteous of you," he said. Her eyes widened, delighted and unafraid.

"I look forward to unravelling your secrets."

"You can tr–!" Mid-sentence, he channeled mana through the sword. He didn't move, but an eruption of air exploded right near the woman's head. She was already gone. A burst of wind pushed her away from the source of the blast. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. Air behaved like earth, and pieces of shrapnel still made their way to her. He felt the moment the solidified air reached her, losing its cohesion and returning to normalcy, only to brush harmlessly by her.

He cursed and dove left, avoiding a wind blade that might've sliced him in half. Wind mages usually attack with a thousand tiny cuts. Nearly impossible to defend against, but with their range, it was a safe bet for them. Instead of wasting mana on making and moving the air itself, they added sharpness to the wind that was already there. This woman seemed to have plenty of mana for the more esoteric abilities. Wind blades were usually nearly invisible. A shimmer in the sunlight, and a sound, just before the cut.

Berkenem dodged two more before he held up his sword. In the same way that she could convert his earth mana back to air, he could do the same. The closer it got to him, the less of a strain it would put on his mana pool. At the last moment, he solidified the wind blade and blocked it with his sword, cutting the uncuttable. The woman blinked in surprise, but he was already charging her, sword raised. She swept her hand, and an arc of wind intercepted his sword as if she held a blade of her own.

Each swipe of her hand met the rocky blade, thunking instead of clanging, but no less deadly for each blow. She moved like the element she controlled, dancing around him and giving him a push that contained no magic, setting him off balance. He staggered and spun, holding up his shield just in time for it to block a blade of wind that would've taken his head. He pushed himself off the ground, heavy armor clanking as he tried to kick the woman, but wind magic buffeted her outside his reach.

She grinned and reached into a pouch, pulling out a handful of powder, before blowing it into the air. He grimaced. His Chemical Resilience skill was decent, but if this woman was really the daughter of the chemist, he doubted it would be something he could resist. Fortunately, the powder was bright purple. Unfortunately, it spread into the air like dust, barely visible and swarming at him from all directions. He leapt. He didn't fall back down.

Beneath him, earth solidified into air for just long enough to take him higher, jumping his way into the sky and away from the woman's poisons. She laughed in delight and took to the air after him. He was sweating profusely, but Freyna wasn't even out of breath. She could theoretically make the wind carry the poison up to him, but he imagined that would be far more difficult than directing it laterally. For likely the first time in history, an earth mage had the high ground in a fight with a wind mage.

It didn't last long. She blasted into the air over him, just as he decided he was far enough away to avoid the poison and solidified the air beneath him. Rather than fight from above, she landed, standing on his platform in midair, examining it curiously.

"How are you doing this? It's fascinating! You're a Tacurian, so you'll have to die, but that's almost a shame. Have you considered defecting?" He blanched, before his eyes narrowed.

"I use the gifts the gods have given me." She smirked.

"Your sword has rocks hovering around the blade, and it looks cracked, but it's as strong as steel. Yet another fancy trinket, barring my way. Perhaps… perhaps you aren't as interesting as I'd thought. If you tell me who made the sword, I'll let you live." What had Mera said? She'd been injured in Mitoras and sent back after being drafted? Had she made other weapons like this sword? Other Quake Blades? Suddenly, he was doubly glad for his decision to keep the girl away from the front lines.

If only he could get the chance to tell the General about this. His mana was already running dangerously low, and he'd die simply from the fall if he ran out up here.

"If you're the queen… why did you invade us!? Weren't we allies for years? Nearly a century? What happened!? What did we do?" He didn't give her the time to answer. Instead, he leapt off the platform and bounced his way back to the ground, making sure to land away from the area they'd been fighting before. The woman obliged him and followed him back to the ground.

"I had no strong hatred for Tacuria," she said when they reached the ground.

"I'd intended to join the council, but my ambitions were no higher than that. Then you took the one thing that mattered to me. The one thing I gave a damn about. For that, I'll see your whole country burn. I look forward to the withered ones I'll find among the ashes." He had no idea what she was talking about, but it was now vital that he live to tell the general. Perhaps he could make some sense of the crazy woman's words. This whole thing… this whole war was… revenge? For what!? He couldn't beat her.

Even with the sword, he could barely stand his ground, and she still wasn't even tired. Her mana pool must be massive. She was still hovering a few feet off the ground. He thought she realized the moment he decided to flee. He'd barely managed to turn before a sound slammed into his ears. It hit him like a physical blow, and he tripped. He nearly skewered himself on his own sword, but fell to the left before he could cut himself. His ears rang, but sounds were muted. He couldn't figure out what had happened.

One moment, he was about to flee, and the next, he was falling. He turned, desperately trying to get his bearings, but the world wasn't reacting properly. He couldn't hear his own breath. There was only ringing. Some sort of… sound attack? He'd read the reports from Maulander's scouts, but he'd somehow forgotten the woman had sound magic as well.

"–an't hear me anymore, – you?" she said.

"–uch a bother." He stood and tried to grab for his sword, but screamed as thousands of tiny knives began to jab at his arm, shredding through the gaps in his armor like they weren't even there. He pulled his hand back, and the magic faded, only for a kick to send him onto his back. He wore a breastplate, so the kick didn't hurt much, but it was enough to disorient him. Without the sword, he didn't stand a chance of fighting this woman.

He reached for it, desperately scrambling, but the woman pulled out another handful of purple powder. She poured it over his face, and it fell like sand. He coughed. Desperately, he continued reaching for the blade, but his vision began to swim.

"I look forward to finding out what you know. I wonder if we'll be able to make that talent of yours break," she said cheerfully. He had to stay awake. He had to get away. He was the only one able to easily kill the winged ones, and if they returned, that meant the fort would be overrun… they'd have to retreat again… they'd… They'd have to… Blackness overtook him.