Chapter 51 - SECOND DRAFT

Chapter 51 - LOT (5$ tier will get caught up to 3 tomorrow) (One of the hardest chapters to write I've ever written. Took a lot of focus and editing)

Jack looked down at the compass, noting its direction. It was leaning forward and slightly to the left of where he was standing. His eyes tracked it as he began walking down the hallway, waiting a moment to let Bale and Evan join him.

“Heyo!” He nodded at both of them with his customary greeting, feeling a sense of relief fill him for some odd reason. The unexpected and dangerous events that were ongoing made just being with his old friends here fill him with a sense of normalcy that he greatly desired.

“Hey Jack. Glad you made it through all that.” Bale replied, nodding back and pulling out his own compass. Evan just gave a silent nod, the usually taciturn duo unchanged in that regard. Even they, however, seemed a bit pale faced after all the recent action and danger.

The hallway looped off in front of Jack. Ornate sets of armor coated the walls, in-between detailed red tapestries dictating the history of the Magma Clan. Glowing crystals were set in the ceiling, lighting the area up. Vaguely, Jack could hear the explosions of the ongoing battles outside.

“Let’s keep moving. After we find the Gauntlet, or the source of the Spatial Waves, we can go back and blend in with the recruits before finding a way to escape.” He motioned for the two to fall in behind him as he led them forward, quickly moving down the ornate hallway.

..

Arial looked outside with a trace of worry, throwing several fireballs of her own at the enormous Iron Rhinos that were still attacking. She also could barely make out through the smoke a group of Steel Raptors coming in from the south, skirmishing with a battalion of Magma Clan guards that had appeared. The wiry, 2 meter tall raptors were vicious carnivores covered in steel, deadly strong and agile.

The two defending teams had split, some of them moving to the rooftop to rain down attacks on the rhinos, while others confronted the beasts directly, using strafing tactics to take them down. With Kenneth and Lector serving as their main force, slowly but surely the Rhinos were being taken out.

If more beasts arrived, however, the situation could turn a bit sour. She might actually have to reveal herself.

Suddenly, a small explosion tore through all the raptors, incinerating them. The explosion was extremely contained, a small and moved in an odd, lithe pattern, neatly piercing and detonating every single raptor. What was most strange about it was the fact that instead of a red, white, or yellow, this explosion was a deep, dark black.

“Yes!” Arial cheered when she saw this, her worry fading.

That whip technique and the unique black explosion was the signature style of the Burn Lord Sutra, the only Burn Lord that didn’t share the customary Magma Natural Ability most Clan members held.

“Everyone, stay strong! Senior Sutra is here, everything is fine now!” She cried out, turning and motioning to the new recruits behind her cheerfully.

Out of the corner of her eye, however, she noticed a door closing, off to the left. She looked at it in confusion, and then looked around at the new recruits that were currently helping treat the injured.

She frowned. Some of them were missing. Her eyes were drawn to the door that had just closed. She began walking towards it.

In the shadows far overhead, a blurry figure watched carefully over Arial, guarding her and following her in secret.

..

“Die you mongering bastard!” Thelor Strausand, the Second Torch of the Golden Flame Clan, cut down sharply with his longsword, sending out a wave of deadly, burning golden flames. These flames were extremely concentrated, able to easily melt through even the toughest metals.

Thelor’s body was sheathed in these golden flames, giving him an almost deific image. His long, flowing white hair seemed to waver between a mane of flames, and regular hair, while his short white beard remained constant. Currently, he had several small cuts that seemed to be bleeding golden fire instead of blood, covering his body.

(Note: It was previously stated that the Fifth Torch, Aron, was here alongside the Third Torch Jirong. This was incorrect, there was a numbers mixup. The Second Torch, Thelor, and the Third Torch, Jirong, are the two elders present here)

“Not before you do, you damnded old bat!” A lanky warrior wearing a simple set of red leather armor returned the Second Torch’s slash with a bash from a shining crimson mace, letting loose an enormous ball of magma spanning a hundred meters. His face glared pure hatred at the man before him, his blue eyes contrasting with the dark red magma that flowed around his arms. Several small wounds dotted his chest and legs, bleeding red blood.

This enormous ball of magma was the signature attack of Burn Lord Bellando, the Blazing Fist.

Thelor’s slash of flames collided with the ball of magma, and split it in twain, but not before his own attack burst, unable to fully pierce it. The resulting explosion set off yet another shockwave, devastating the already mostly destroyed palace that was beneath Thelor’s feet.

He harrumphed, his eyes filled with righteous anger. Bits of burning magma and golden flames showered down around him, setting the burning rubble even more aflame.

In the distance, Thelor could make out the various other battles that were ongoing, though he was unable to tell who was winning. He and Bellando were evenly matched.

When he had received the signal to attack, the elderly warrior had gone at it with no mercy. The information he’d received from Silverwing had been accurate, and led him to the exact position of Burn Lord Bellando.

The man responsible for his grandson’s death. If the lanky fighter before him hadn’t encouraged his son to initiate a campaign in the Samier Collective, little Roger would still be alive.

Thelor’s eyes turned red at the mere thought, and he threw himself forward once more, letting loose three more enormous slashes of golden fire.

..

“Oho? It doesn’t seem like your attack is going to plan, now, does it?” Ayalda Burnheart, the White Lion remarked, clenching his fists together. Immediately, an immense shield of magma formed, creating a huge, sixty meter wide and tall wall. His short blonde haired had been replaced by a mane of glowing magma, his lined face bearing a grin as he looked at his opponent.

A look of battlelust coated his piercing brown eyes as he smile grew. He was standing in mid air currently, using his Spirit to solidify the air beneath his feet.

“Hmph!” Instead of responding, the Third Torch of the Golden Flames Clan, Jirong De’Pure, let loose several punches, shooting forth several torrents of golden flames. These pillars blasted forward and collided with his enemy’s shield, exploding into an enormous cloud of golden fire. He took a few jumps backward, also in mid air, stepping on the air as if it was solid.

Beneath them, chaos reigned as fire and magma rained down, destroying part of the outer wall of the Forinth Stronghold.

“Don’t think things will go your way just because you can stall…” Jirong muttered, gritting his teeth as he pulled out a small dagger from his Spatial Ring.

“Let’s see you stop this.” The heavyset elder clenched the dagger tightly, and began concentrating an enormous amount of golden flames, all along the hilt. As he did so, he let loose several more torrents of golden fire, blocking Ayalda’s sight.

The White Lion was known for his ferociousness and dogged attacks. He would wear an opponent down, and then rip him to pieces. It was because of this that he was in charge of most of the outgoing excursions the Magma Clan participated in.

Bellando, the Blazing Fist, was the other Burn Lord that was in control of the Magma Clan’s invasion forces. He was more prideful and had overwhelmingly powerful direct attack techniques. The Blazing Fist and the White Lion balanced each other, and had led to the Magma Clan gradually expanding their territory to new heights.

Both of these fighters were the targets of Thelor and Jirong today.

Jirong’s eyes narrowed to slits as the dagger in his hand began to glow with an overwhelmingly powerful yellow light.

..

“A worthy opponent.” A calm, relaxed voice spread out over a section of the Forinth Stronghold that was covered in thousands of gashes and cuts. The rubble of an enormous palace littered the ground, many of the pieces split into dozens of scraps.

A thin, reedy looking man with short white hair, and a shirt white beard looked down at the body at his feet, sheathing a small, white blade to his waist.

The body at his feet was a corpse, cut into pieces, of a once lean and muscular man, with bright red hair and a once handsome face. A face that was currently marred with a look of rage, hatred, and despair.

A scythe lay on the ground, cut into several pieces near the corpse.

“Captain Desmon of the O’Bald Pirates, the Wind Scythe. Your strikes were full of passion, and your scythe technique remarkable.” He said, bowing slightly.

“Unfortunately, your strength was not up to par.” The Meteor Swordmaster of the Magma Clan, Master Goldra, shook his head sadly, as if genuinely feeling loss. A unique, wise aura surrounded this man as he took one last glance around the battlefield before turning his eyes to the south, where several enormous wooden barriers and trees had appeared, clashing against pillars of magmiric fire.

The glow of Spirit pressed flush to the Swordmaster's body, so powerful the air itself trembled as he walked.

“Perhaps the opponents over there will prove more interesting.”

..

“Arrgh.” Captain Orin spat out a mouthful of blood, whipping his spear forward as he controlled the darkness around him. As a former member of the Darkness Clan, Orin’s abilities were extremely powerful. While he never quite reached the Formless Stage, he had trained his spear technique to an incredible level that merged fluidly with his Darkness Energy.

Unfortunately, the man in front of him seemed able to shrug off his attacks with ease.

“Die, you bastards! How dare you attack the Clan Tournament! How dare you disrespect the Magma Clan!” Burn Lord Miren slammed down with his enormous great sword, leaving trails of magma in the air as he knocked aside Orin’s spear. His enormous, muscular body bulged as he swung the blade forward, aiming for Orin’s head. Several small shockwaves erupted at each movement, the incredible force Miren was known for exploding forth.

*WHOOSH*

A wall of ice collided with his greatsword, deflecting its path slightly. Orin ducked to the side as an enormous slash of molten magma blasted downwards, incinerating a solid forty meter long chunk of the now empty coliseum.

“Thanks Kinley.” He yelled out, whipping his spear forward. He tugged at the Darkness energy within his Soul, making it boil forth and coat his spear as he launched an attack of his own.

“You’re welcome!” A rugged, female voice yelled back. A woman wearing a tight, blue dress with a fit and athletic figure jumped into the air, launching several spears of ice forward as she moved. Her face was covered by a helmet of ice, protecting her from the immense heat of Miren’s attacks. Orin had to rely on his Darkness energy to fend it off, using his Pseudo-Formless Stage strength to barely last.

Kinley, like Orin, was a former member of one of the Great Clans, and a Captain of the O'Bald Pirates. Specifically a former member of the Ice Clan.

Burn Lord Miren, known as the Berserker, twisted in mid air and deflected Orin’s darkness fueled spear strike with his greatsword, sending it tunneling off into the floor of the coliseum. Explosions of stone and rock shrapnel blasted out as that side of the coliseum collapsed. Orin frowned fiercely as he saw this, his bronze face twitching.

Miren was known as the second strongest member of the Magma Clan, in terms of sheer power. Captain Kinley and Orin just needed to delay him for around fifteen minutes while the Golden Flame Torches took on their respective Burn Lords.

Desmon had insisted on taking on the Meteor Swordmaster on his own, confident in his scythe technique, and control of his Wind Body for survival. With his technique, he should be able to last quite a while.

Captain Olai had let loose his vast store of Metal Beasts to force the Magma Clan to be on the defensive, tying up their Royal Guards. He was also in charge of stalling Burn Lord Asandra. With Olai’s unique body and odd Wood techniques, he should have little trouble there. He wouldn't be able to win, but if it was just to stall...

The last Burn Lord, Sutra, was an external member of the Magma Clan, and would, without fail, divert to wipe out the metal beasts ravaging the island, joining the defense to protect the common and regular members. Her personality wouldn't allow her any other action.

Silverwing was in charge of stalling the Empyrean Lord, and his forces.

The plan itself was complex, but working smoothly. Orin was aware of the weapon the Torches had brought with them. Without a doubt, the Magma Clan would lose at least one Burn Lord today, as long as they were caught off guard by an extended melee.

As long as one of the Burn Lords died, it would be worth it. Weakening the Magma Clan now could lead to their future destruction and defeat. After what they did to Captain Yosandra… Rage vibrated in Orin’s eyes as he cast the memory aside, focusing on the present.

What they couldn’t afford, right now, was for Miren to get past them, or worse, defeat them.

Unfortunately, stopping the Berserker was much harder than it appeared.

Orin grit his teeth as he charged back in, leading several more darkness aspected spear strikes as he stepped up his attack.

..

Liren landed smoothly atop a black stone roof, staying low to the ground, his physical form shimmering. He flicked a few drops of sweat aside, adjusting his mind. There were a few fighters atop this roof, and several more Magma Clan members on the ground, fighting against a small horde of metal aspected Spirit Beasts. The smoke and haze of several large fires made visibility difficult, even for Liren’s enhanced body. Liren ignored all of this, however, concentrating.

He focused, reaching out with his senses, ignoring the chaotic battles happening in the distance.

Faintly, he could feel the presence of minute spatial waves.

He smiled, and then looked downward and made a small, clapping motion.