Gaius Antonius 85 - Unsteady Progress
Things were never easy in the Qiguai Realm. Even the most fortuitous of encounters required great struggle to pry forth its bounties, and many struggles did not give out rewards commensurate with the danger. In this place, where pockets of space from across the world converged, all manner of anomalies were constantly being born.
Case in point, a bunker built into a mountaintop, filled with wood and iron puppet soldiers deprived of all purpose. Such a thing is awfully prevalent in the Qiguai realm, a dangerous thing stripped of context, falling through the cracks and ending up there.
The whip-blade lashed again and again, ripping through the bodies of the puppets. Balthazar tore deep into their chests, removed their limbs, wrapped them up and slammed them into one another. Very little of it out a soldier down for good. Though nothing special in regards to speed and power, these puppets carried an admirable amount of resilience. All Balthazar could do was slowly wear them down.
The Centurion panted, hard and heavy, parrying aside the bladed arm of a puppet and kicking it away. His boots scuffed against the smooth dark stone floor as he slowly backed away, swiveling his head to keep an eye out for flanking maneuvers.
On the other side of the bunker her spotted Mara, bringing down one soldier after another with ruthless efficiency. She smashed one puppet's head in with the side of her heavy shield, then pushed past it to impale the one behind it. Said puppet didn't stop moving, and so she skewered it several more times until it fell, motionless. As expected, her style was more suited to bringing down such resilient targets than Balthazar's, which was one of fines and precision.
Deeper in, Nikolas took on something more formidable than these simple automatons. A fifteen foot metal beast resembling a spider, it lunged at him with a dozen legs, trying to skewer him again and again in a torrent of metal. Nikolas struck back in turn with his huge blades, carving deep gouges into its armor and massing the much larger enemy blow for blow. He didn't take a single step back, that dependable wall of a man.
"Damn, I can't let you both outdo me like this!" Balthazar chuckled, drawing forth a small jade jar. His whip lashed out, severing the thin leg of a nearby puppet and sending it sprawling, where it caused two others to trip. "Formation Mu!"
At Balthazar's command, the whip crossed over itself again and again, drawing a pattern in the air before him; a simple channeling array. Popping out the cork on the jar in his other hand, he scattered a fine powder of silver dust and beetle carapace, prompting his whip to light up in a brilliant blue. Balthazar jumped and aimed the array downward, and a thick, unbearably cold mist streamed out, blanketing the area below him and freezing the automaton soldiers in place.
The Centurion landed, and behind him, the loud crashing of Nikolas' blades came to an end. He turned to behold inevitability; the spider hacked and smashed to pieces, and the giant looking only a little bit worse for wear. The grizzly work done, Nikolas let his swords clatter to the ground, futility reaching for a spot near the middle of his back.
"Hrm… this is a bit…" Nikolas muttered, fumbling against his own bulk. He grasped awkwardly at the spike embedded in his flesh - the tip of one of the spider's legs, but lacked the leverage to make any progress. "Pardon me, would you mind-"
"I've got you." Mara said miserably, trudging over to her comrade and planting a foot on his backside. With one good pull, she extracted the blade from Nikolas' back, causing him to groan in both pain and relief. He fell to his knees gasping as Mara tossed the leg aside, threw down her shield and spear and began looking around the bunker.
"Four months and still hardly anything." Nikolas grimaced, managing to drag himself upright and sit down on a mound of rubble. "Just some minor trinkets and a few herbs."
He paused for a moment, seemingly second-guessing his own objectively correct statement. "Still faster progress than on the outside though." He concluded with a shrug.
Balthazar rolled his eyes and re-fastened the cork on his jar. Enough left for three more uses of Formation Mu, he idly noted, before placing it in a bandolier with a dozen other small jars.
Something in between a Mekanikos and a frontline soldier, fighters like Balthazar were called 'battlesmiths' by some. Or 'dropouts', if you were to ask a real Mekanikos. By using a variety of methods to create arrays on the fly in battle, they could fill a wide variety of niches. While their hasty creations didn't have as much efficiency and power as more meticulously crafted arrays, it meant they were more adaptable.
"You're allowed to complain, Nikolas. If shit sucks you can just say it sucks." He remarked.
"You do enough complaining for all of us." Nikolas shot back, rubbing as his wound. "Should probably must some medicine on this…"
A telltale rattling caught the pair's attention, as Mara fiddled with a compartment in the corner of the bunker. "I found a hidden compartment!" She called out, keeping her eyes on her work. After a minute or so, she managed to pop the latch open, folding up a section of the floor and reaching inside.
"What have we got this time?" Balthazar asked, trying to find the strength to lift his weary and battered hopes once again.
"Uh, something." Came Mara's voice, muffled by the box she was now sticking her entire upper body into. "Let me just get a hold of this…"
With a gruesome sound of wrenching and sucking, the Centurion pulled forth a mass of fine, thin chains, each one no thicker than a piece of twine. It was hard to make out much detail, dripping as it was with some sort of thick, awful-smelling slime. "I'm gonna be honest, I can't tell what this is."
"Bag it up; we can run an analysis tonight." Called out Nikolas, who was now loudly and forcefully taking apart the spider's armor, looking for anything that could be of use in its innards.
Mara made a face. "I'm not putting this with my stuff. Not until I've cleaned it for like… five years."
—-
It was decided that camp would be made here; their elevated position made them impossible to ambush, and it was better to wait until they were fresh than to face unknown dangers while tired. This, at least, was a much needed bubble of normalcy and control in this otherwise unpredictable dimension.
Nikolas crossed his arms and glowered into the campfire. He'd learned as a boy to not turn his dirty looks upon other people - someone so large needed to take precautions in their body language or risk being seen as a threat by everyone around them. "The Legate's judgment has brought us this far, hasn't it? A Legion at half its maximum in less than a century isn't normal at all."
The fact that it's not normal is what worries me." Balthazar replied, tearing into a piece of salted fish.His face, normally quite pleasant to look at, seemed to grow a bit more sour with each passing day, as the pressure wore on them. "If the Brotherhood ever decides they want more out of life, our logistics will fall apart. And those Revenants; I'm telling you, they'll turn on us one day."
"They can't turn on us." Mara said "Without maintenance, they'll become mindless husks. And the Brotherhood like being slaves, it's a part of their whole… sub-culture, whatever you call it."
"They're not slaves!" Nikolas snapped, a great gust of air billowing from his nose. "They're proud, devoted ascetics. I know a few of them and they're wonderful."
"Devoted is right." Balthazar said with a smirk. "I can't imagine anyone else would want to go into one of those creepy things…" He shuddered a bit. "It's a step too far, is all I'm saying, and I hope that little experiment stops soon."
"You two are so stuck-up and arrogant!" Growled Nikolas. "The Kings are leading us into a better future, and all you have is complaints."
"Well, pardon me if I want to be more than an observer." Mara sighed. "If I'm going to protect my people, I have to go beyond just a Centurion. That means increasing my understanding, which means seeing things as they are."
"Not everyone is ready to settle, man." Balthazar chimed in. "I want to ascend, I want my own Legion."
"I'm not settling…" Nikolas sighed, hanging his head. "But unlike you two, I know to show the proper reverence. We have no right to question how the Legate does things."
The giant got up and stormed off, flinging down a seal which instantly unfolded into a tent. The standard issue Instant Shelter was a bit cramped, and yet again he'd forgotten to have a larger one made, but Nikolas could still fit if he curled up. He got inside immediately, no longer wishing to see his compatriots' faces, but sleep was elusive.
Spoiled kids, both of them. Sometimes Nikolas wished he had been born into peasantry and worked his way up from nothing, so that he could better appreciate his own standing in the world and not risk developing a big head. By Nikolas' own reckoning, there were at least three other Centurions in the Stargazers who deserved to enter the Qiguai Realm alongside their Legate more than he did.
Outside, Mara and Balthazar engaged in hushed, stilted conversation for a few minutes before Mara retired to sleep as well. In truth, none of them really wanted to talk to anyone right now. It was hard to believe that the three of them normally got along so well, and yet were falling into infighting after less than half a year.
Nikolas stared at the unmoving canvas of his tent and heard the popping sound of another Instant Shelter being deployed nearby. Maybe it was inevitable, given the circumstances. Something had happened to Gaius, causing him to disappear and leaving the trio to fend for themselves amidst this deadly place. With no way to leave early and no way of knowing what was going on, they had simply left to wander around on their own, worrying all the while that their future might have gone up in smoke.
It was terrifying, in a way that even the strongest enemy warrior could never be, to think that natural forces could simply swallow a man whole. Even a man as mighty as a King was no exception; Gaius very well could have been crushed to death or flung far away by a random bad interaction with that portal. The Empty King, a paragon who upheld the values of the Clan, one of the greatest talents of an entire generation of heroes,
eaten by the world upon the whims of fate.
What were human beings, in the face of such mindless destruction? What was civilization, what was life?
What was Nikolas?
—-
Mara imagined that if the ruined stone building floating in the air before them had a name, it would be something like 'The Forlorn Ziggurat'. But, as far as she knew, it had no name at all; just a piece of architecture that somehow fell through space and time and ended up in this place.
It was large; big enough to fill perhaps a tenth of the Dawn Fortress' entire area. A sprawling network of worn-down rooms and stairwells and sprawling great halls, they were so old that their original purpose couldn't really be sussed out. Not only that, but the place had brought with it some kind of native vine which had grown to enshroud almost the entirety of the place. Entire areas were locked off by plantlife as hard as iron, requiring it to be torn away by hand.
They didn't even know if anything worthwhile could be found here; they had simply decided that they might as well check. And so here they all were, tearing out weeds, not using techniques to clear them faster on the off chance some awful beast would descend upon them from the shadows.
And worst of all, Balthazar was moving his mouth. Sounds were even coming out of it! "The next Trial really is key, or rather, the century after it. I've heard there's a plan brewing." He rambled distractedly as he worked.
"There's always a plan brewing, what's different about this one?" Mara asked, ripping out heaving handfuls of vines one after another.
Balthazar paused for a moment, perhaps wondering how many of his private channels he ought to disclose to his fellow Centurion - most people knew he had them - before settling on 'none'. "I don't know exactly, but it's a much bigger sort of plan. Just trust me; if it goes off, we might be untouched this time."
"Untouched? Seriously?"
Balthazar nodded. "Yeah, entirely. And if that does happen, then we'll continue to be unbothered, for a while at least. More time to build ourselves up and not be cut down. More time to refine those accursed Revenants; even if I hate them, they're a game-changer for the Legion's strength."
"More time for us to reach our full potential too." Mara said quietly. "That old, half-working Technique Palace-"
"That'll never get done and you know it."
"Shut up, yes it will, when we have the money for it!"
Balthazar laughed. "When we have the money for it, the Elders will spend it on something else. Some projects just never get done, and that's one of them."
"Ugh, whatever." Mara scoffed, getting back to work.
Balthazar continued talking, because that was what he always did, even if she didn't want to hear it. "My point is, another century where we aren't attacked and we can build up our strength is exactly what we need. By the time it's over, we'll be ready to take the region."
"You're too ambitious if you think that's enough time to take it." Mara replied, reaching shoulder-deep into the mass of green. "And there's no guarantee the other nations will remain distracted for that long."
"Oh, I think they will, I've heard some interesting rumors down the grapevine. They say the Legate's got a way to bolster the Blood Path nations, to ensure they stay in the fight."
Yet another rumor that sounded too good to be true. Gaius, who was famously quite reticent about the full scope of his abilities, was said to know all manner of secrets, but small and large, and there was no way to tell truth from lies. It didn't help that her sister was Gaius' biggest fan, and bought into all of them. If the Legate continued to get stronger and more ostentatious, Mara worried he would amass some kind of cult.
Hell, he already worked with one cult.
It wasn't right, Mara thought, to be so critical of the people who had given her so many opportunities. And yet it seemed at all times that, with the exception of a few close advisors, the King attracted those predisposed to adulation and blind obedience. To defend something, one needed to know what it needed to be defended from, and that meant knowing how it was weak.
In what ways were Mara weak? That, she knew intimately. She was impulsive when her pride was wounded. There was also a mismatch between where her talents lay and what she wanted to do. She was physically average for a Devil, which made her somewhat weak for a Quintia, who tended to be on the large size. Finally, her resentful tendencies worsened her ability to work together with her peers, should they do anything to provoke a grudge.
In what ways were the Clan weak? Easily pinpointed, in some cases; they were too confident in the superior strength of their blood, for one. They were overly enamored with the brilliance of the Grand Elder and blind to the fact that he too was just a flawed human. Some were sanctimonious, believing the hardship they had historically endured for so long gave them a virtue that all others lacked. Moreover, the series of successes that defined the current era relied upon all other nations not having an incentive to try and destroy them, either through a good opinion or being too busy with other matters.
All things needed to be understood this way, or everything would fall to ruin. Vigilance toward all potential threats, all avenues by which one might be attacked, and all blindspots one might have.
Wrapping her fingers around a pulsating, soft orb, Mara pulled hard. Her progress halted several times as she navigated her hand past one knotted tangle after another, but with steely steadiness, she finally wrenched the payload free. In her hands, she beheld some kind of oblong red organ, and watched as the vines before her rapidly began to wilt.
"Huh, so that's how you do it?" Balthazar remarked. "Damn, that's a lot faster than how we've been going so far."
But she didn't know the entirety of her Legate's weaknesses, because she didn't know the entirety of his strengths. Such secrecy and intrigue only undermined his own Legion's effectiveness, as far as she was concerned. Just what was Gaius Antonius plotting? How many secrets was he hiding from his own people, and for what reasons? She'd ask him face to face when next they met, on the outside. She knew he was alive - something so laughably simple wouldn't take that man's life.
—-
Move. Move. Move.
Matter was an illusion, as was distance. All things existed within and without.
Gaius opened his eyes, briefly emerging from his meditation to behold the space before him. It wasn't quite a void; more like a place in which everything folded inward. When he conjured a light, it curved around back toward him; if Gaius were to reach forward with a ten foot pole, he would touch his own back. Every direction, it all curved back onto him - a true bubble of spacetime, with no beginning or end.
No change, then.
With no reference whatsoever, it was difficult to tell how long he had been in this place, so Gaius had taken that matter into his own hands. By conjuring a construct designed to degrade over the course of 24 hours, he could count the days. He was four months in already, and he didn't want to consider what might happen if he was still here when his year in the Qiguai Realm was up. Did this even count as being in the Qiguai Realm?
And then there was the matter of the hallucination. It had been a while since there was one so vivid, or one so beautiful. A man festooned in colorful flowing robes and bearing an elegantly curving bow upon his back, the figure observed Gaius with curious amusement.
Every curve of that man's body, every strand of his hair, told a story of deadly, perfect strength. The hue of that man's eyes was something endlessly compassionate, yet not sympathetic in the slightest; the unconditional love one might extend to an animal, or to someone with whom one cannot communicate. There was no hate in those eyes; there simply could not be.
"Come to me, my enemy." The figure said. His voice dripped smooth and heavy, like honey, like blood, like magma.
How could Gaius refuse? This was no mind control, no compulsive spell, it was merely the response anyone would have. "I can't move. I can't reach you, you should come closer instead. Closer." He muttered, reaching out fruitlessly, as if something as elementary as distance separated him from that divine figure.
The figure spread his arms in welcoming fashion, not responding at all.
"Beloved adversary, come to me. I shall pierce your heart with the sweetest reverence."
"I told you I can't…" Gaius lamented, hanging his head and letting a curtain of golden hair fall between him and that unattainable temptation. It was gone, or it was never there, or it remained; all three were possible, and there was no difference, for no more words came from that direction either way.
Now, how to leave? A place like this was not hospitable to a human, that crude thing of three dimensions and simple matter. There was no leverage with which to move, though propulsion might be achieved with techniques… if only his qi would listen to him. It would not respond; without the spark of reality, the flame could not burn, and Gaius was not afforded such luxuries as concrete reality in this space.
In that case, the Dao would bring him deliverance, and reveal to Gaius the path out of this non-space. All it asked of him was that he Seek, with deeper devotion than ever before. The King had attempted this task many times already, but in this space, there was nothing he could do but keep trying. He breathed, though there was no air in this place. He waited, though there was no time. He looked farther and farther out, though there was no light with which to see.
He saw the sharp eyes of his slayer, and the arrow destined to lay him low. He saw two new shadows of the most supple, tender blackness stretching across the land. He felt a surging in his blood, higher and higher. He saw nine nails, forged of truly immutable matter, being pounded into his back.
He saw a man of silver conjuring a pinprick of unfathomable weight; a mouth which consumed infinitely. He saw wings of brass and gold, delivering them forth into the void. He saw a secret betrayal, an act of cruelty from which there could be no redemption, but could not remember what that act was. He saw his body, burned from within and entombed in a place outside time.
It did not matter how much time passed in that place, for it was a place without time, but let us say, for the sake of simplicity, that it was only a moment. In that moment, the world's axis seemed to shift, bringing forth new perspective, new control, new understanding. Imaginary matter bubbled up, like melting wax in reverse coating a small area at the base of Gaius' spine. It spread in thin strips, like rivers carving through the land, reinforcing flesh with strength of idea.
Pale and thin like a membrane around the eye of a toad, this substance nonetheless brought sensation to every patch of skin it covered. Gaius slipped deeper and deeper into a gorgeous, sensual synesthesia, and it all just seemed to make sense. There was a way out of this place; it was beyond his current abilities, but it existed, and he had ways of surpassing his limits. Now he just had to-
One more moment, and that heady feeling slipped from Gaius' fingers. The fragile epidermis, spread across less than half of his body, shattered into something finer than sand or even dust, leaving him exactly the same as he was before. The sensation of grasping such sublime enlightenment and losing it in the same breath might drive some mad, but Gaius was already mad. That feeling, that constant awareness of his own imperfection, was one which he lived with every day.
"Okay. Let's try it again…"
—-
I failed to get any writing done for so many days straight, but I finally got this little thing done. Ah well, not like this is gonna be a short turn anyway; the last two trial turns were quite meaty, and this one might be even moreso.
I wanted to give an update on how these characters are faring in the Qiguai Realm, as well as foreshadowing several different future updates.
