Universe's End

Chapter 273: Chaos

Restrain the Living Shadow.

As Eia passed through the Null Window with the Primordial Rogue, it was the single thing on her mind. While the Rogue was temporarily frozen, it would be seconds before-

“For fuck’s sake I hate snakes,” A very angry voice all but snarled. “First one takes my god damn settlement, and now this bullshit?”

Surprise shot through Eia. She hadn’t expected her venom to hold the Rogue for long, but to have broken free so quickly?

“Venom, you really think something as simple as a paralytic venom would hold me?” The Rogue had vanished through a shadow, now standing upside down from a nearby branch.

“Cruor-Shu, lock down the Maw.”

The Rogue frowned as he felt space ripple; the teleportation pad deactivating.

“You do realize I’m going to kill you for that, right, little snake?” The Rogue growled.

“I am not to be taken so lightly,” Eia shot back. She’d been beaten badly long ago by another Founder. Since then, it had forced Eia to reevaluate herself, to focus on her strength, to do her best to keep up with her chosen brood father, with the Great Khan of Ehkorrus, to prove herself worthy.

She would not be bested so easily ever again.

Rearing up, her crest flared as her aura exploded outward.

“Oh, now that does have some bite,” The Rogue half smiled, though it was not an expression of anything benign. “But can you measure up to the real deal?”

Their auras colliding, dark sparks flared into existence at the clashing edges like tectonic plates shearing against one another, the two auras sharing striking similarities.

I shall not fail. I will hold him here, as long as is needed.

In most cases, Allison would have felt a thrill of excitement.

The Vanguard was undeniably a worthy foe.

Every hit she landed felt like throwing a pebble against a mountain. Yet, somehow, she managed to maintain a high level of offense.

It reminded her of Garfunk.

That thought silenced the kernels of excitement that had begun to bead up as she almost lost herself to the reality of their battle.

This wasn’t for fun. It was to bring justice.

While the Vanguard was more offensively proficient than she had expected, the difference between them was night and day. Allison’s spear was a dervish flurry, sweeping and striking and stabbing a hundred times through the air for every few hits that the Vanguard managed in return. In fact, were it not for the sheer strength of her durability, Allison was certain she would have already won.

“Would you… Stop!” The Vanguard snarled, her fist turning dark as she drove it into the ground. Instantly, Allison leaped back as a crater fifty meters across formed; had the Vanguard not kept her energy relatively contained, thereby intensifying the strike, the crater would have been even larger, even if the energy would have been used less efficiently.

“No,” Allison simply said. She would never stop. Not until she made the Architect pay.

“He was trying to kill his daughter,” The Vanguard snapped.

“And that makes it better?” Allison snarled. “If anything, it is proof. His ‘daughter’ is a monster.”

Why was her sister-

No.

Why was the Vanguard going to such lengths to protect and fight alongside a man, a monster, who would allow those things to exist in the first place?

Don’t think about it.

Allison hated how she felt, constantly off-balance, unable to find her footing as everything she understood was shaken apart. First, her sister was dead, then she wasn’t. Then the Architect didn’t seem like such a bad person, just a misplaced effigy of her father.

Until he had gone and killed her best friend, all because his ‘daughter’ was a devil.

It doesn’t matter.

Whatever the case, she had to deal with her sister-

The Vanguard.

-The Vanguard first if she wanted to find any stable footing.

For a martial artist, Rory found the First Monk was awfully fond of launching ranged attacks, able to form blades of frozen stillness with the swipe of his hands. What was rather difficult about them was that they carried the same slowing effect as his aura, blocking one of the blades or blasts of frozen stillness would slow him for a moment as the Monk rushed forward, a flurry of blows delivered to his chest, launching him away.

It’s like fighting Kai Rong on steroids or something.

Using his aura of self, Rory managed to reduce the freezing effect to a single moment. Still, against an opponent of the Monk’s caliber, that single moment was already enough to deliver some hellish punishment.

How in the world did the Spear beat this guy, if she looks like a hand-to-hand fighter?

An interesting, albeit distracting, question.

Projections were failing miserably; the Monk’s aura was so cold it disrupted their very structure. Arrows proved little better, slowed to the point of being easily dodged; it was as if nothing could withstand the cold.

Actually… I might have a new answer for that.

From his inventory, a chakram frame appeared, and with a moment’s thought, it filled out, taking on a snowflake-like shape.

Grabbing it, Rory held the chakram like a melee weapon as he stared down the First Monk, who seemed content to take his time.

He fully believes time is on their side.

As much as Rory wanted to disagree… He couldn’t. Zoey was a bulwark and could deliver incredible offense when needed. Still, given what he knew of the Spear’s reputation, Rory had doubts she would be able to win in the end. Less of an issue of lacking faith in Zoey and more so that it was simply a bad match-up.

As for the Rogue, that was harder to say. If the Rogue was contained, Rory believed they’d manage. If being the keyword, as if the Rogue broke free for whatever reason, Eia would be in a fight for her life.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Meaning, I can’t waste time.

Hand-to-hand and even ranged attacks weren’t going to be effective; a domain was his best bet, but a domain without being able to draw upon Ehkorrus would be that much harder.

Well… Do I need a fully realized domain?

There were levels to domains, Rory himself knew that well. He didn’t need to bust out a domain like he’d used against the Bird, because the Bird had been empowered by its body-multiplying Arcana magic; anything less than a fully realized domain would have failed after the first few bodies.

But against the First Monk? He could potentially get away with less.

Or I change the parameters. It doesn’t need to be the silver bullet. I just need it to peel away his frozen scales.

That… that was more feasible. Strip any of the offensive aspects of his own domain to use it to also strip away the First Monk’s defensive aspects.

“Alright, let’s get to it,” Rory sighed as he stared down the First Monk, who cocked his head in curiosity.

Bringing his hands together, Rory spoke three words.

“Liminal Realm: Open.”

The First Monk’s eyebrows shot up as his guard raised, prepared for something to happen, as their surroundings darkened, suddenly filled with tiny, gleaming, blood-red specks, like red stars set against the endless dark expanse of space.

Except as seconds passed, nothing seemed to occur.

That was until Rory shot forward, slashing the chakram toward the First Monk, who raised an arm, prepared to take the strike and retaliate the moment Rory was slowed.

Except, for the first time, the First Monk was too slow as the chakram slashed through unperturbed, opening a long bleeding wound across his arms before he was launched away by a follow-up kick to the chest.

The First Monk wasn’t a Founder just for show, flipping once and landing against a building as if it were solid ground beneath his feet. Intrigued, he pressed two fingers to the wound, sealing it beneath a layer of frost.

“Impressive,” The First Monk answered. His aura wasn’t being drained or exhausted or anything that should have indicated the freezing effect had been rendered inert.

And yet, it had been.

“I didn’t think domains were viable at our tier, at least not instant domains,” The Monk said.

“I’ve got a bit of a head on my shoulders for figuring things out,” Rory tapped at his forehead.

“Will it be enough?” The Monk questioned.

“Why don’t we find out?”

Usually, when Zoey fought a particularly strong foe, she could count on Rory backing her up, or otherwise her indomitable defense holding out.

This time was different.

Clad in bone white armor, The Spear –her sister– was going to town on her, dancing around and stabbing and slashing at her like she was some big, slow, stupid animal.

Each individual hit Zoey didn’t even feel; physical strikes weren’t nearly as damaging to her as something like the lightning magic Rory would wield on their occasional spars. Still, the sheer volume was becoming a problem.

Right, well, it’s about that time.

She’d let her sister have her fun; she wasn’t going to sit around and be a piñata the entire time.

Altering the balance of her inverted attributes, a moment later Allison was taken off guard as Zoey shot forward, surging with speed she hadn’t demonstrated before. Throwing three punches back-to-back that Allison barely blocked, she was pushed back from the effort of withstanding the strikes.

For a moment, Zoey swore she saw a smile flicker on Allison’s face, only to vanish a moment later.

That’s the Alice I know.

Even as a kid, one of the things that was sure to pick Alice up more than just about anything else was venting the frustration out with her fists.

Of course, it usually meant the little gremlin would launch surprise attacks on her, but she’d been able to take it even back then.

The pace of their fight was picking up now that Zoey could keep up; yet even then, it was still rather lopsided. Rather than twenty hits received for every single one she managed to deliver, it dropped to a measly ten or eight.

I need these to start hurting.

Siphoning away more of her durability, her fists blackened, Allison already dodging out of the way of the strike, only to find her feet stumbling as she tripped on an invisible air shield.

Smirking slightly, the blackened uppercut caught Allison in the stomach, launching her skyward as Zoey chased after her through the air, slamming a two-handed sledgehammer blow into her back and smashing her sister back upon the ground.

Dun. Dun.

Frowning, Zoey momentarily swore she heard the sound of a drum beat, only to fade a moment later as Allison stood back up, spitting out a glob of blood and even a tooth that regrew instantly.

What?

Dun. Dun.

The drumbeat picked up once more, only to fade, though not entirely gone this time around.

There was something afoot, Zoey could see that much.

Well, I’m not the thinker of the group, so the only way to find out is firsthand.

Rushing her younger sister head-on with a blackened fist, Zoey was surprised as Allison stabbed her spear into the ground before pulling back on it, the entire weapon bending beyond what was normal.

And then she catapulted herself at Zoey.

The sheer… cartoonish-ness of the move momentarily surprised Zoey as Allison slammed into her, swinging around so her thighs circled her head as if she was getting a shoulder ride.

“Get… off!” Zoey yelled, her sister tangled around her neck like a god damn monkey.

“If you say so.”

Then, in one swift movement, Allison flipped her body back, launching Zoey into the ground with a nasty leg-variant tombstone suplex.

The ground shattered at the force, and yet somehow Zoey found herself bouncing upward, only to take a two-legged drop kick to the stomach as Allison bounced around on the balls of her feet afterward.

What is going on?

Something about Allison felt… weird. Zoey had never properly sparred with Rory’s right-hand man, Apostolos, something she wanted to address in the future, but she had heard stories. From what she’d heard of the man, for those particularly sensitive types, hitting him almost felt strange, like his body was there but also somehow not.

Fighting Allison reminded Zoey of that explanation, except that rather than ‘intangible,’ it was more like a strange, springy give that a human body shouldn’t have.

Alright, no more games. I tried.

Facing down her sister, Zoey stomped once, as her skin took on the appearance of metal.

But not enough.

Stomping the other foot, her skin began to melt, taking on a molten appearance.

Once more.

Sliding her feet further apart so they were just beyond shoulder width, Zoey slammed her fist into her chest, as a sound like thunder rang out.

Or, more accurately, the sound of tectonics crashing one against the other.

Zoey wasn’t great at magic.

But she hadn’t been completely unable to grasp it.

Zoey also wasn’t a domain fighter like Rory was.

But.

But she’d also been around him long enough to pick up some tricks.

Using her body as the catalyst, something that placed an ungodly burden on her that was only bearable due to her sheer amount of durability, the environment began to shift as her body exuded an aura like the core of a molten world.

“World. On. Fire.” Zoey said through clenched teeth, her body fully manifesting both swordsteel skin and her world ichor affinity, clashing them like a perpetual energy engine.

To call it a domain, even a proto domain, was incorrect. A domain was something that changed reality externally, casting one’s inner world outward.

World On Fire went the opposite direction. So strongly adopting concepts into her inner world that she became something like a living domain. The only reason the world around her was beginning to burn up was simply that she burned that hotly.

Taking a step forward, Zoey grimaced. She’d been slowly developing this little move for quite some time; for some time now, she had been able to seamlessly swap between her swordsteel skin state and her world ichor. The total fusion and multiplication were relatively new, though, accompanied by a level of pain that even she hadn’t expected.

Or at least it felt that way until her pain receptors burned up.

Busting out new moves was always a bit of a risk, especially against an opponent like her sister, and World On Fire wasn't the exception, far from ready for field use. Yet Zoey wasn’t so daft as to think only remaining a bulwark would give her the tools to win. Black Hole Drop would have worked, but it was far too telegraphed a move. Anyway, charging that bad boy up was going to be next to impossible against an opponent like Allison.

Taking another step forward, the environment wasn’t accustomed to Transcendent-tier eights fighting at full force, surrendering to their superior influence over reality. With each step, geysers of magma began to spew alongside her.

Seeing her sister, now an avatar of molten, primordial worlds, Allison couldn’t help it, a smile on her face that the woman herself didn’t even notice.

“That’s better.”

Responding to her sister’s fiery show, Allison pressed her fists together as the world seemed to distort around her, colors draining away until she sat in the middle of a maelstrom of black and white, as if her very existence was enough to transform the environment around her into the pages of a newspaper’s comic section.

Had they been paying attention to just beyond their field of battle, they would have noticed entire teams of tier sevens swapping in and out to support the few other tier eights of Ehkorrus, putting everything out there just to contain the battle.

Tsarina, Apostolos, Marcie, and even Irene were all doing their best to contain the battle lest it spill outward and cause havoc on an apocalyptic scale.

As yet another team of tier sevens went down in an exhausted pile, the barrier barely withstood the force of the two sisters’ fists colliding. Watching the battle play out from the outside, Irene could only shake her head as sweat poured down her forehead and her body shook from the strain.

While it might not have been obvious that the two women were sisters at a glance, one look at the wild grins on their faces was enough for Irene to see the resemblance.

“Bring in another team, pronto!” Irene shouted, a burst of magmatic light from inside the barrier nearly blinding her.

Why can’t Founders just be normal?