The death of Estus of Weapons and the subsequent formation of Aslana of Swords was a brilliant manoeuvre by Arascus of Pride. As I write this, I can confidently say I am shocked. If there ever way of measuring and ranking Divines, then Arascus needs to be near the top simply for this Estus gambit.

Who would think the God of Weapons could be killed? And more than that, who would think to replace the man with a component of himself? And so quickly? The amount of planning that Arascus must have done must be incredible, but more incredible is the fact that he actually managed to throw us off. I knew about things like the Cult of the Blade before, I had thought it mere curiosity. The Sword Shrines, did anyone even worry about them? The Imperial war prayer’s verse about soldiers asking for their blade to guide itself? Looking back on it, it seems obvious, yet if anyone were to say that Arascus was trying to create a new set of Divines, then they would be called paranoid.

Yet even now, my mind runs through situations and I am unable to think of how to repeat this scenario. It is something that is completely unique to Estus, because only Estus could be split into various mechanical components in the way that he was. I could not be killed and broken up into the different elements that make up light. Even someone like Iniri, who is Of Nature, would most likely be impossible to replace because of how interwoven her demesne is. Even if one tried to fashion a Divine of Trees and Divine of Grass, I do not see how they could be fundamentally separated from of Nature.

Arascus has done something amazing, no one will disagree with that assessment, however whether it is repeatable is something that I doubt that. Arascus himself says it is, I highly doubt it. The man has achieved something amazing, but only time will tell whether this is the start of a new era in our understanding of ourselves, or whether it is a fluke of Divine proportions.

Tomorrow, a speech has to be given to calm the Divine Mountain down.

– Excerpt from Goddess Allasaria’s, of Light’s, Diary, written by immediately after the news of the Incarnation of Goddess Aslana, of Swords.

Lyca looked at the five men that had been disfigured by Anarchia’s blessing. At least he thought they had been disfigured by her blessing. Maybe it was some other Divine. Maybe they were just born like that. Who was Lyca to judge? “So?” Lyca called out to hurry them along, he didn’t like the smell of them, nor the way their beady eyes were inspecting the four sorcerers. “Are we taking this outside or not?”

The fellow in the back with the neck so thick it looked like his head was part of his torso turned to look at Lyca, then at Fleur and Edmonton, then at Eliza with those beady eyes of his. Lyca wondered what there was to the man’s abilities. These fools weren’t much in talk, but they obviously weren’t stupid. None lost their temper no matter how far Lyca pushed them. The man with the egregiously long spine most of all. If Lyca had been talked to the way Lyca talked to him, then someone’s head would have already been cracked on the off-white tiles of this gas station.

Still though, they may not have been stupid, but experienced soldiers they were not either. Soldiers cut their hair so that helmets could fit and so that there wasn’t anything to grab in a fist-fight. The only reason any man in the imperial military would be found with a cape was because it was loot that had resell value. The fact they used the old bolt-actions that weren’t in production was another tell, it wasn’t particularly difficult to find modern weapons, especially in Epa. Another of the five men, whose arms and shoulders were so wide his bulging muscles looked as if they were fighting to tear through his shirt, had a heavy metal crowbar on his belt. That man was so ill proportioned his silhouette could as well have been a triangle pointed down. “I charge for staring, just so you know.” Lyca said idly.

“We’re going outside. Don’t bother running.” The tall man said. And then the largest tell that they did actually have power came about. The tall man turned his back to the four sorcerers in the station as he walked out. That automatically disqualified him from being an amateur. It was one thing both novices and experts had in common: opponents remained to your front as much as possible. The former because of nervousness, the latter because of lessons learned.

So they must be confident or arrogant in themselves. The second option was a nice thought, but rarely were men arrogant in anarchy out of sheer malice. Lyca clapped the counter. “Who are they?” He asked. The shop-keep did not reply, he simply bolted off and ran out to the back door. Lyca met eyes with Edmonton and Fleur and Eliza. He raised a questioning eyebrow. “How was that?”

“You handled it better than me.” Edmonton said. “They probably know how to get power but they’re obviously no one high up.”

“Ask them like how… you know who would.” Lyca said carefully. They had been overheard here, so one of them was probably still monitoring them. He looked to Eliza and the girl smiled at the fact he was recalling her words. Compared to the black and red uniforms of the men outside, who were now talking amongst themselves, Lyca and his friends were a sorry state.

Lyca shirtless, his arms and chest covered in thick black hair and with a full beard already even though he only shaved on the plane to Rancais. Eliza, brown hair tied back, with her white shirt discoloured from fruit juice and sweat. Fleur with her black hair matted and out of place. And tall Edmonton, who dressed as if he was fatigued with his shirt unbuttoned but with a glare that said he could go on for a whole day more. “Any plan?” Fleur asked? “Or just take it how we go?”

“Usual I suppose?” Lyca said.

“Not the usual.” Edmonton said loudly and clearly. Whoever was listening in would definitely overhear. “They’ll work out that we’re magicians, so there’s no need to pretend we’re something else.” To anyone else, the man probably sounded normal. Even the words he said didn’t give anything away, but the four people understood what Edmonton was saying. They had a green light on magic and magic only. Sorcery was to be used as the trump card for later. That was funny, in the Kirinyaan Invasion, it had been the other way around. There were only four sorcerer-magicians on this world that Lyca knew of, and all four of them were stood in this room.

“Well alright then.” Lyca said as he leaned back over the counter and inspected it from the shopkeeper’s side. He knew he could smell cigarettes! A handful of packs, still wrapped in plastic, disappeared into the pockets of his shorts and an easy to reach compartment in his bag.

“I can’t believe you’re taking cigarettes.” Fleur said.

“Do you want the bottle of wine here?” Lyca said as he looked at the cream-white floor.

“Wine’s good for you.” Fleur said. “Depends on which brand.”

“No brand, I was just proving a point.” Lyca said decisively. “You worry about your health, I’ll worry about mine.” Half the Clerics he knew smoked, and Clerics lived well into their early hundreds thanks to their healing. “Right, so are we setting off or are we dilly dallying about? Ela?” The girl returned with an open can of fizzy soda in her hand she was sipping in one hand and a large bottle of water in the other, she showed it to Edmonton and the man shook his head.

“I have my own already.” He showed off two small bottles in his hands.

“I’ll throw this one first then.” Eliza said as she stopped by the door.

“Gentlemen? Lead the way?” She asked and Lyca stepped out into the hot summer air of Rancais. The fact the sun was slowly starting to meander down to the horizon did nothing for the temperature. It was still dry and hot, although nowhere near as dry nor as hot as Kirinyaa. Lyca pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and unwrapped the plastic so casually he may as well have been on a walk.

“We make an effort not to besmirch the environment.” The tall man said.

“My bad.” Lyca apologized as he snapped his fingers, the ruby on his neck that served as a catalyst between his mind and the real world flashed with light, and the plastic set alight. Lyca saw the five men narrow their eyes as they looked

“Are you a magician?”

“I may be.” Lyca put a cigarette to his mouth. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” Lyca tapped his ears. He wondered which one it was with the hearing. It was five faces of genuine surprised.

“Unearned power explains the attitude.”

“Shut the fuck up Snakespine.” Lyca finished, snapped his fingers and the cigarette set alight with a spark. He looked around. Who else was here? It wouldn’t be the shopkeep, would it? Lyca turned to the two trucks, the sole occupant in one cabin was watching the affair unfold.

“That guy is number is six, just so you know.” Lyca guessed completely. Lyca had no damn clue, he just had a suspicion and a gut that he trusted. But when he saw the man so obviously jump up and panic, then realised he had panicked and try to contain to himself, Lyca was sure.

“Who?” Fleur asked.

“The man in the truck is our rabbit-ears.” Lyca pointed to the truck. “I’ll be on the attack. Ela, Fleur, you’re on defence. Ed, you do both.” There, roles assigned, everyone knew what they were doing. Lyca took another drag of his cigarette, he turned to the blessed men with his legs spread wide. “WELL?! Are we playing ladies or are we just here to inspect how pretty everyone is?”

“You’ve scared them Lyca.” Edmonton said quietly.

“Seems so.” Lyca said, he blew out a cloud of grey smoke and tasted the tobacco. Some things grew old, some things changed, but some things were always the same. What he thought of Eliza was one thing, the reliability of tobacco was another. Lyca raised one hand ahead of him, channelled magic out of his mind through the ruby on the chain around his neck, and let fire flow through and out of him.

The burning tongue of lightning that shot out from Lyca’s fingers and along the ground at the men kickstarted the whole show. Eliza threw her bottle of water into the air as her topaz earrings began to light up. Edmonton tore the cap off his bottle and waved his hand with the watch forwards, a blue glow lighting up his wrist. Fleur raised her arms into the air, her rings shining brightly. Snakespine took a step and launched forwards as quickly as if he was propelled by magic. No-neck and V-shape both began to run in an attempt to close the distance. The two skinnier men drew their rifles.

By Eliza, the ground upwards, throwing up a fog of grey dust and chunks of grey tarmac. Eliza threw her water bottle into the air and a chunk of stone knocked it forwards as if it was a massive baseball bat. The bottle of water ripped apart, throwing droplets of water everywhere. Half of the bottle launched forwards and slammed into the chest of one of the skinny men in the back as he pulled the trigger. Fleur made a theatrical gesture of bring her hands down and the bullet was caught in the air. Edmonton whisked his hands forward, the droplets became sharp spikes, they launched down into no-neck.

Lyca watched the snake-spine disfigure further and changed shape. His back grew even longer, his arms grew wider. His eyes raged at Lyca as the man practically slithered along the ground as quickly as an overflowing stream after a rainstorm. Lyca exhaled smoke as he stepped to the side and saw the man change his course on the spot. Spindly fingers became longer as the wrist extended and Snakespine threw his knife from one hand to the other.

Oh well. It would be up to Ed or Ela or Fleur to keep someone alive for questioning. Lyca wasn’t in any mood of taking risks which didn’t have to be taken. And as much as he liked Iliyal, he wasn’t about to put his life on the line for a battle with this freak so that the elf could get some information. It would be up to the other three to capture someone.

Lyca snapped his fingers and through the gemstone on his neck, poured the searing heat of his own will. Snakespine’s knife blade became molten metal slag that dripped onto the tarmac as Lyca’s magic super-heated the air so quickly that it took a moment for Snakespine’s body to remember it was flammable. The moment that his fingers started to burn, there was no stopping it. It didn’t matter how stretched or how fast or how strong the man thought he was. Lyca took another small drag, savoured the taste of tobacco and watched as Snakespine fell to his knees as his body combusted all over.

Fleur and Edmonton both stepped away from the fire as they handled their own opponents. The man in the truck jumped out Edmonton stepped close to Fleur and move his hand in a spiral. The girl moved with him, as if they were in a dance together. Bullets stopped in mid air and were sent back into the chests of men as droplets of water became bolts of lightning that snaked through the air like flying daggers. They cut a man’s calf. They sliced through thigh. They punched clean holes through chests. Fleur turned when she heard the man in the truck as Lyca watched Snakespine finally stop thrashing about. One thing he would never get used to though was the smell of burning flesh. That was its own level of disgusting.

Fleur clapped her hands, Lyca heard the wind shoot past him, he turned and saw Rabbit-ears fall to the found as he head slid off his body. And it was done. All the movement stopped. Lyca remembered how Anassa had complained about Divines of this era and how they tried to stop her and how she was a Great War veteran and they shouldn’t even be called Divines. Maybe the emotion similar, maybe not. All Lyca knew is that this hadn’t been a battle, he had been smacking down children who had just tried to sit at the adult’s table.

Fleur and Edmonton kicked one of the bodies that was close to them. A hand was missing and there were cuts all over. Clean cuts, from blades of water. Those were bad, so clean that they struggled to clot and there were no blade left to even attempt filling the hole. “We were supposed to question one, weren’t we?” Fleur asked. The man put a hand on her shoulder.

“Do you think he’ll bleed out?” Edmonton asked. Lyca snapped his fingers and smoke rose from the where the man’s arm ended as red muscle and skin all turned to char. The rancid smell of cauterization made them all take a step back.

“Not anymore.” The man let out a final groan and the collapsed, his body stopped its thrashing.

“Did you just kill him?” Fleur asked.

“Well it was an attempt.” Edmonton said just as flatly.

“I think he passed out.” Lyca tried to defend himself even though it was obvious that the fellow’s breathing had stopped. Edmonton reached down and touched the man’s neck.

“I think he had a heart attack.” Edmonton said and Lyca shrugged. Oh well. Losses came and losses went, these things happened especially when you play with fire.

“Good thing you guys have me!” Eliza shouted from the side. Lyca and Edmonton and Fleur all turned to look at the girl. There she was, still covered in sweat, still with that white shirt discoloured from fruit juice. Behind her were two molehills of concrete that constantly cracked and reformed and cracked again as the ground itself flowed upwards to keep them from breaking. Through two tiny gaps in the side, Lyca saw the faces of men struggling to get out. Eliza smiled proudly as she leaned down and grabbed her light-green can of soda from the ground. “Honestly guys, what would you do without me?”

Lyca loved that woman.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep