738. The Name Behind the Mask

738. The Name Behind the Mask

“What do I call you?” Dallion asked, rising further up in the air. “Lord Dreud?”

“I suppose you’ve earned it by serving this long,” the echo mused. “Grym.”

Grym… The name didn’t sound familiar, although to be honest, Dallion only had dealings with the southern and central provinces. The north was out of sight, out of bound. It could be said that, with the exception of the imperial capital, an archduke’s influence was proportional to the geographical position of their land. The sound was viewed as opulent and battle hardened, while the north was calm, poor, and forgotten. No doubt the Star had a lot to do with that.

Dallion split into a dozen instances, half of them launching point and line attacks against the echo. Not once did Grym move from his spot, deflecting them with the ease and amusement of a lion taking on a cub’s attack.

Seeing that there would be no result, Dallion chose not to select any of the attacking instances to become reality.

“I guess you know who I am,” he said, playing for time. In his mind, tens of combat scenarios were taking place, trying to maximize the chances of a potential attack. Only one hit was needed for victory, no matter how insignificant.

“I know who you are, Dallion Seene.” The echo smirked. “Some even thought that after what had happened to your grandfather, you’d be willing to join our side. As if three generations of trash would be worth anything.”

Dallion froze. While it was a given that anyone with enough resources and influence could easily find out about his past, the way the echo said it suggested more than a passing familiarity. Had his grandfather had dealings with the Dreuds? Or was he involved in an attempted plot against the emperor? That would explain his punishment. To have someone deleveled to single digits was as harsh as having their awakened powers sealed off. If combined with centuries of imprisonment within an item—as the former Dherma chief had suggested—it would make sense.

“What do you know about my grandfather?” Dallion lost his cool. “Tell me and I’ll leave your brother’s realm.”

“Why ask for something you’ll do, anyway?”

Three daggers split the air, each flying at a different instance. The action was so fast that Dallion didn’t even see it. It was the daggers themselves that warned him. That was the reason that top-level awakened rarely resorted to ranged weapons: even the most lethal projectiles fell short of their own skills. The moment an item was let go it was no longer subject to their control, and thus a lot faster and impossible to control.

The attack was met with a line attack, deflecting all three daggers while also continuing towards the echo.

Dallion expected Grym to parry, then go on the offensive. The noble did no such thing. He remained there, completely still, almost amused as the line of destruction approached and then passed through him without doing any damage whatsoever.

Nil.

Dallion split into instances and had Lux spread them out.

Is that something I don’t know?

There was no answer. Focusing with his layer vision, Dallion attacked again. He expected Grym to be too arrogant to do anything but a repeat, and he was right. The attack passed through, slicing off another chunk of the tower, and still not harming the echo in the least.

What the heck?

Dallion refused to believe it. Unless his opponent was capable of instant speed, he should have seen something—a blur, at the very least. Nobles were without question stronger than him, but not to such an extent. Unless…

“You’re thinking too much.” A saber flew Dallion’s directions, slicing through one of his echoes.

Almost instantly Grym unsummoned and summoned the weapon, performing another attack.

He’s toying with you,

Nox said, calm anger in his voice.

The second instance of Dallion deflected the saber, though that didn’t make the danger any less real. A minute ago, Dallion was considering going all out against the echo. Now, fear had crept within in making him second guess any approach he came up with.

Taking a second, Dallion recited the names of the seven Moons again. Fear was the last thing he could afford to give in to. His experience in the wilderness had taught him as much. Still, it was difficult not to be intimidated by someone who could deflect any attack.

“The Moons must really have liked you.” Grym took a step forward. “I’ve no idea how you defeated anyone with your trash skills. To think that people in the alliance were actually frightened of you. If I’d known you’re this piss poor, I’d have left my brother deal with the situation.”

“I don’t see you attacking?”

“Why should I? All I need to do is keep you here? It’ll take months or even years, but you’ll get weaker with time. You’re not an echo, so you have hunger, thirst, and stamina to worry about. Meanwhile, I’ll just sit here and—”

Four dozen instances of daggers flew at Dallion. Each three targeted an instance, and most of them hit. Red rectangles were everywhere, reducing Dallion’s health by a third on average. Instinctively, Dallion chose an uninjured version of himself to make reality. As he did, he felt someone else attempting to force a different outcome.

So, you can force split, after all,

Dallion said to himself.

The attempt was weaker than expected, allowing Dallion to have it his way. After everything he’d witnessed so far, he was relieved, even surprised at the outcome. Given how overwhelming his opponent was, he had expected to lose. Clearly, combat splitting was an area in which he had the upper hand.

“Pitiful save,” the echo scoffed. Dallion could see disdain form within him, like a growing mushroom. “Let’s see how long you’ll be able to keep it up.”

Grym disappeared. Daggers started flying by the dozens from all directions. These no longer seemed like single attacks. The speed and frequency could hardly be distinguished from magic, or some sort of dagger machine gun.

Combining several of his skills, Dallion twisted and turned in all instances, using all means at his disposal to shield himself from the attacks.

“Shield!” he ordered.

The armadil shield extended, covering an entire side of his body. That helped only partially. The torrents of daggers changed direction, always heading to Dallion from his unprotected side. He could, of course, have the companion gear cocoon him, thus providing protection from all sides, but that would come at the price of mobility.

He’s not that strong,

the armadil shield said

. All you need to do is focus a bit and you’ll—

“How do you suggest that?” Dallion hissed? While seemingly weak, the attacks didn’t give him the time to cast a spell, let alone anything more complicated.

I must start an attack,

Dallion thought.

Offense was the best defense.

Several of his instances flew down to the top of the tower, but each time they were riddled with daggers before they could get anywhere close. Grym wasn’t giving him the option to breathe. The whole toying thing was taking things to the extreme… unless it wasn’t toying.

A thought passed through Dallion’s mind. It was highly speculative and circumstantial, but with no other options of success, he decided to bet on it. If he was wrong, he’d be instantly ejected back into the real world. If he was right, though, there was every chance he could win this encounter.

Concentrating, Dallion split into a hundred and fifty instances. Ten of them darted down, harpsisword in hand. A hundred and twenty more performed a point attack aiming at what was left of the tower. The vast majority of attacks were deflected, all but those aimed at the edges of the tower… and the one that struck Raven’s unconscious body.

“So, that’s your game.” Dallion immediately chose another instance to become reality. “You really want him dead?”

There was no response. The echo didn’t appear, but Dallion knew he was listening.

“You’re waiting for me to win before you really attack,” Dallion continued, moving further away from the tower. As the distance increased, even flying daggers presented no danger. “It’s obvious you despise me, but you despise him more. As long as the other echoes were intact, they wouldn’t let you harm him. How did you convince Raven to use the Moonstone?”

Dallion could almost see it in his mind. Mage Argus—the real mage—must have raged about Dallion’s decision to waste a Moonstone for something as worthless as getting a momentary boost. Knowing the ego of the man, he’d probably made sure everyone in his immediate circle knew about it, and through this, he had presented Grym with a golden opportunity. All that was needed was a gentle whisper—a request from a prodigious older brother that Raven was desperate to impress. After all, what better glory could there be than killing the archmage on his own without being puppeted by Argus or anyone else? No, not on his own; Grym’s ego wouldn’t have allowed that. More likely, he had suggested that would be a task that both brothers could do “together.”

“You really did, didn’t you?” Dallion could sense emanations of anger coming from the tower’s general direction. “That must have really messed up your mind. Divine magic rushing through you and Raven while you were controlling him… no wonder you turned into one crazy echo.”

A spear flew towards an instance of Dallion. Ten feet before reaching its target, it unfolded like an origami to turn into a spear whip. Hundreds of razor-sharp segments slashed through the air. Slicing scores of instances, yet far from all.

“That was always the plan, wasn’t it? Your plan. Have Raven kill the archmage, then leave him behind. I didn’t have to be the one to find him. Anyone could have. Once the effects of the Moonstone were gone, you’d have made sure he was in no condition to fight or flee. Then you’d have no rival, and more people would have a reason to rally against the empire. After all, who wouldn’t go against a tyrant who’s willing to kill a child?”

The spear whip slashed through the air again, determined to mop up any remaining instances. Despite it being a copy, Dallion could tell that the real item was fanatically loyal to its owner. Fighting it in real life was going to be a challenge. The last time Dallion had fought against someone with an origami-type weapon, he had barely won. Granted, he was a lot weaker back then, but so was his opponent.

“Quite the plan.” Dallion kept on adding anger to his words. “Even if half my reasoning is right, it’s outright ingenious. A pity that you couldn’t hold yourself back. You just had to defeat me, didn’t you? Having me turn your brother braindead, then be ejected by you from his realm… You’d have proved to the world that you were superior to me, both physically and mentally.”

“I am superior!” the echo shoulder. At this point, though, he was too far up to be reached. The tower itself was no larger than a pin’s head. “You and your whole family are a bunch of has-beens! Trash that no longer amounts to anything!”

The insult stung a bit, but that only proved Dallion’s point. The side that resorted to anger was the side that was one step closer to admitting a loss.

“Lux,” Dallion said. “Up for some action?”

“You can’t stay away forever,” the echo shouted from the distance. “The moment we’re back in the real world, this will continue and I

will

kill you!”

“And take the harpsisword from me?” Dallion laughed. “Dream on. Lux, let me go.”

Boss?

The firebird asked hesitantly.

“It’s all you and Nox now,” Dallion summoned the Nox dagger and tossed it up in the air. “Destroy every inch of the tower. Just don’t harm Raven. And don’t let me hit the ground.”

The familiar chirped. Getting what Dallion was asking from him, he leapt onto the Nox dagger, then propelled it towards the top of the tower, faster than a bullet. Impact was almost instantaneous, creating a small covered in cracks on the surface. No sooner had that happened, when Dallion summed back the Nox dagger and tossed in the air once more.

A note from Lise Eclaire

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