Weapons of Mass Destruction

“I have a skill called [Empyrean Lance]. Do you know anything about it?” I ask Kyralon while sitting on the ground with my legs crossed.

Fracture sets on my lap, resting in its cracked sheath, and its dangerous energy is beginning to leak through. I’ve wrapped it in my mana in an attempt to slow it down at least somewhat, but without the proper materials, I don’t think I can fix it much.

Plus, my right arm isn’t helping. Sure, it’s happened plenty of times before, I can always surround it with a coating of woven mana and move it easily enough, but it still requires a bit of effort, and it’s frustrating how much time it takes to heal. I can’t even blame my passive; the wounds inflicted by Fracture are always like that.

“Fascinating. Skills with ‘Empyrean’ in the name should be nearly impossible to learn naturally. You must have acquired it either by combining powerful skills or maybe through a Primary class upgrade.”

“Primary class upgrade.”

“Well then, your class must be something special. Though I’ve never heard of the exact skill, and I can’t tell you about other skills or their owners, as silence binds me the same way it does with your answers.”

“What can you tell me?”

“Anything with ‘Empyrean’ in the name is very old, from a time before any of the current Rulers were even born.”

“Old doesn’t mean strong or useful.”

“An answer and then more questions, right?”

“That’s how it goes.” The huge velnar says, smiling at me. “Even though its function might appear limited by its name implying a lack of versatility, you should never underestimate a specialized skill like that, especially given the presence of ‘Empyrean’ in the name. I know my answer might be lacking because of my vows, so I will expand. I’ve met people who had skills that seemed limited by their meaning at first. For example, there was a man with a skill simply called [Sword]. He was one of the most terrifying individuals I’ve ever encountered.”

“Absolute Kyralon.”

“Yes?”

“I honestly love and hate the way you answer my questions, and I know you’re doing it on purpose.”

He seems surprised for a moment, but then only nods, his smile becoming a bit more genuine instead of sitting there as his facial muscles twist into a grin.

“I do enjoy it,” he confirms.

Another hundred questions later, I ask again.

“What is the maximal skill level?”

Kyralon pauses from where he stands, near the black wood shelves full of mana stones, and scratches his beard. For a moment, his star filled black eyes, though they lack pupils, clearly turn toward me.

Still, without pupils, it’s hard to say exactly where he’s looking.

“I think I can answer that one. It’s rumored to be level 100, though very few Rulers have even one level 99 skill, and the rest generally hang around level 98. Absolutes usually have skills around level 90. Champions start around level 80. After level 50, it becomes difficult to level them further. After level 60, it’s even harder, and it continues in that manner.”

“I had someone warn me not to level any skills to 99.”

“On the first floor, or during Beyond trials?”

“Ehm, yes.”

“Then it must have been the Ruler of Envy. He does like to do that.”

“But why? If level 99 is comparable to being on the level of a Ruler why would he say that? The chance of any newcomer reaching that high in the first place is pretty low.”

“That’s just how he is, but don’t underestimate the impact of words spoken by someone truly powerful, especially when spoken to someone new to the system. Even if you don’t notice it, they often leave a lasting effect. A scene like that tends to stay with you. Even the slightest hesitation could be enough to stop you from breaking through from level 98 to 99, simply because advancing is that difficult.”

“That’s stupid.”

“So, you don’t believe me?”

“I don’t think you’re lying or anything. I just can’t see it working.”

“That’s not all Envy does though. He builds on these moments. Whether you see him as pathetic or weak doesn’t matter. Never underestimate someone who’s risen to the title of Ruler. Anyone who’s reached that level has survived countless dangers and stands among the most powerful beings in the system. Now, show me that sword.”

That request catches me off guard a bit, but I don’t hesitate long and hand Fracture over to him. He takes it into his massive hands. To him, my short sword looks almost like a dagger, which is kind of comical. Kyralon examines it, and the longer he does so, the wider his smile grows. A few times, he even shakes his head, and I hear him snort.

After that, he returns it to me, and I inspect it.

Nothing has changed.

“What was that about? You didn’t even do anything,” I remark.

“I did not. I wanted to confirm something.”

“I swear everyone with some power likes to act so fucking mysterious all the time.”

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Once more he fails to reply letting a simple nod speak for him.

We stop mid-question, and I leave to go to my usual spot outside of the tower on the stairs, well, slightly lower now, so I have access to my mana. Only then do I allow myself to fall back into that special space in my mind.

This time, we’re in the middle of the ocean, not a single island or patch of land in sight. The sky is clear, but the waves are dark and mercilessly rock the boat we’re on. And it’s not just a boat either, all around us there are dozens of aircraft carriers. The kind that takes six thousand people to operate, and one of them stands under my feet. Its deck lying empty, devoid of the jets that would normally take off from its surface, and Whitey is standing right in the middle wearing a simple olive-green camouflage uniform and heavy black boots.

“You really are enjoying this aren’t you?” I note, coming to a stop in front of him.

I look down and find myself wearing clothes similar to his own, and it must be quite the combination: me with my mana crown floating over my head and Whitey with his white hair, red eyes, and horns.

“I got stuck in a shitty human’s mind, so this is the best I can do to entertain myself,” he says, his smile and tone slightly different from the day before. The mood around him feels more threatening.

It’s not hard for me to understand why. By now, it’s safe to say I might know Whitey better than he knows himself, and he knows me just as well. Other than certain memories we’ve elected to keep private, we can peek into almost everything.

I take a few steps back, remove the heavy black shoes, and kick them away, standing barefoot as I roll up the sleeves of my shirt.

Whitey does something similar, tearing one of his sleeves and using it to tie back his long white hair. There’s something deliberate about the way he does it.

A breeze sweeps across the empty deck, carrying the scent of salt and steel. Beneath my feet, the aircraft carrier shifts slightly, moving with the waves, but all I feel is the steady rhythm of Whitey’s heartbeat, a low, pulsing vibration, echoing through the metal beneath my feet.

I shift my weight, testing my footing on the deck. Whitey tightens the knot in his hair.

Then it starts.

Unlike before, I don’t reach for my kinetic energy. No, this time I allow mana to flow through my body. I ensure all of my passives are active and make a slight adjustment to the settings on my Mana Regulator. Mana Wavelength Iris activates right away.

Whitey vanishes, and I use Wraith Dance to shift out of the way as the air itself trembles with the force of his attack.

A Barrier forms around me, one I’m sure can stop Needle Point.

I’m wrong.

Needle Point pierces it, driving through a point literally as thin as a needle, piercing through my chest, only to be followed by a dozen more such attacks, before I can move away with that unpredictable style of movement he drove into me.

[Ley Line] stretches away, then more threads appear. Mana weaves around me, forming armor, as I add a few Ley Lines to the mix.

Whitey reappears in front of me, his face nearly touching mine. His red eyes look big, unblinking, and wide open, and his mouth formed into a wild smile.

He punches me in the chest. The armor absorbs some of the blow, [Redistribution] handles more, and my passive reduces the impact as well. Even so, a wisp of kinetic energy reaches my heart, creating a tear in one of the walls.

My mana radiates from my body, pushing Whitey away.

[Empyrean Lance] weaves itself into existence, a stream of prismatic light trailing it as it flies after him with an incredible burst of speed, stabbing past Whitey’s side. His attempt to hold it in place with kinetic energy fails.

The array I’ve been testing deploys, and my armor expands, growing until I’m three times my height, towering over the white-haired demon. All that mana floods through my body and the armor, making it more dense, as the threads weave themselves together. A different part of my mind takes over as the world fades to black, whit,e and the unmistakable hue of mana.

I stomp toward Whitey, but he sidesteps, and I miss by a hair’s breadth. Standing near my leg, he chuckles and punches it, channeling an insane amount of kinetic energy into the blow. It deals no damage, so I grab that energy, redirect it, and stomp again, releasing everything. The surface of the carrier’s deck explodes.

Chunks of the runway freeze in midair as Whitey deploys his field, jumping up, locating my body, and punching the armor directly above it.

I feel my body shake, and he punches again, shifting his application of kinetic energy.

Using a huge amount of my mana, I boost my [Redistribution], and his body halts in midair.

My armor bursts open, transforming into dozens of limbs that I manipulate with my [Mana Domain]. All of them reach toward him while I create another [Empyrean Lance].

Even though he doesn’t stop completely, he slows my mana-arms, just like he has in all our previous fights.

I move quickly as his Needle Point trails after me, piercing needle-thin holes through the carrier’s surface.

Whitey breaks through my hold and moves again, dodging all my arms in a way that would be dizzying for anyone else. He lands on the surface and charges, each burst of speed using the bare minimum of kinetic energy.

We both switch to Breaker Style. Our palms meet, and an explosion of kinetic force hurls us apart. The aircraft carrier cracks and starts rocking in the sea more violently than the waves alone could ever account for.

As I pull my mana back to me, Whitey leaps into the air and then boosts himself, running across the surface of the sea. The area around him becomes as calm as a windless lake, leaving that immense kinetic energy to course through him instead of the waves.

I fly into the air, weaving dozens of mana javelins and hurling them with kinetic energy. Each one thunders through the air, belting out a sonic boom as they go, tracking him and piercing the water around him. Then I compress the remaining spears, converting them to their tricolored variants, and fire them off in much the same fashion. Now they explode, unleashing shockwaves, heat, and pressure, tearing apart the calm surface of the sea.

Yet he manages to boost himself out of the way each time, moving so quickly it’s almost like teleportation. Whitey lands on the surface of another aircraft carrier that begins to shake as my tricolored javelins continue to rip it apart.

I fire off the [Empyrean Lance] I’ve been compressing, sending it off even faster than the javelins. It pierces the ship in front of him, slicing through the entire length of the carrier as if it were nothing, leaving little more than scraps of torn metal in its wake as it explodes beneath the carrier, then the flickering field it releases begins to seep into the air, the explosion alone rocks the aircraft carrier and sends a huge ripple through the sea.

Another javelin streaks past, trailing a [Ley Line] behind it. The moment it strikes the ship, I manipulate the javelin and force the [Ley Line] to materialize. A shimmering, pale-blue thread drops toward the water, cutting through the ship like a hot knife through butter, splitting the carrier in two.

Both halves of the vessel tilt and sink beneath the sea, sending a towering geyser of water into the air. The water halts midair, and I sense a shockwave rippling forth from the area.

My armor surrounds me once more, just in time for Whitey to reach me. Three consecutive strikes destroy my barrier and armor, and I barely manage to block the last strike. I open my hand and let a destabilized orb drop. It explodes immediately, and I teleport away, reappearing on the deck of one of the remaining ships.

A white blur rushes out of the explosion, and Whitey lands next to me without creating a single shockwave. There are only a few burns on his clothes, and his bound hair has begun to escape its restraints. His heart is pounding with excitement, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide it.

Whitey’s grin widens as he takes a series of slow, confident steps toward me, kinetic energy swirling around him in a clear challenge.

A short laugh escapes me.

Fine, if he wants to see more, I won’t hold back.

The half-ruined deck beneath my feet groans in protest as I brace myself, mana crackling through my veins.