Rising Kite - A story from the world of HWFWM

“Sect leader.”

“Pathbreaker.”

As Kite stood across from the leader of the Luminous Cloud sect, the clashes already having been forced to move to another area outside the sect due to the often explosive fights causing the terrain to become a bit too rough to have a proper duel, he had to admit that the elf woman was imposing.

But while her golden combat robes and the nine small suns hovering behind her, which at a closer look had turned out to be some artifacts with cores of metal and crystal, was indeed impressive, Kite was more struck by her spirit and the strength of her path.

Compared to the other ranks, silver was when advancing one’s path towards the heavens truly became an arduous crawl. Reaching the milestone just before the halfway mark was straightforward enough, but then things almost seemed to come to a stop, at least according to the people who Kite had spoken to. It was called many things across the worlds and cultures, but from his time spent with the task group, Kite had the impression that ‘the wall’ was the most widespread term.

And while he himself had yet to reach that limit, the sect leader before him had. Not only reached, but crossed it. Things always became a bit hazy when trying to gauge the strength of someone more powerful than you, but Kite would guess that Gossamer March of Morning had just reached the final quarter of the stretch towards the vaunted heights of gold rank.

“I, Kite flown in on Winds of Fortune, known as the Pathbreaker, challenge you to a clash of paths. Do you confirm your position as the leader of this sect, and your mandate to dictate its actions?”

“I, Gossamer March of Morning, sect leader of the Luminous Cloud sect, accept your challenge. The sect is mine to command, but our purpose has ever been united.”

“Then you agree upon the previously discussed terms for our clash?”

“I do,” the sect leader answered with the surety of someone confident enough in their path to know of their victory. But Kite didn’t feel like this was empty bravado on her part; Gossamer March of Morning knew of him, and had felt his spirit while judging it wanting. Kite would do his utmost to rob her of that notion.

“Please confirm the terms before Warrior,” Orichalcum Fist urged from the side, the stoic priest of Warrior having found another boulder on which to stand while officiating.

“Should the outcast Pathbreaker win, representing the Autumn Wanderer’s guild, the Luminous Cloud sect will cease any and all hostilities towards the guild, its members, interests and contracts, and swear an oath of non-interference that will last seven years. The exception will be challenges to the clash of paths, as by the Queen’s decree, but any such challenges will have to be delivered in person at the guildhall in Convergence.”

The questions of keeping duels on the table had been a part of the agreement upon which the sect leader had been adamant in their earlier dealings, but Kite had in turn managed to add the restriction of where challenges were to be delivered so as to not have them just continue their current dance in a barely changed form should he win. He even had a plan in that regard that might work to their favor in the long run. There was also a long list of more specific stipulations and different levels of punishments and compensations for individual infractions, but reading out all that would rob the moment of too much of its gravitas to be appropriate.

“And should the sect leader win, the Autumn Wanderer’s guild will close its Convergence guildhall and swear off any further attempts at further expansion for seven years, with the same oath of non-interference towards the Luminous cloud sect,” Kite repeated, even though he dearly wished that this would not come to pass.

Before all this, the guild had passed mostly beneath the notice of the local sects which had in turn allowed for much of their expansion like they did. After this, no matter the outcome, things would be a lot more challenging, and if they were relegated back to their guildhalls in Bastion and Gilded while the sects got seven more years to prepare, Kite knew that any attempts to expand again would be met with much, much fiercer resistance.

“Warrior has heard your vows and accepted them,” the officiating priest confirmed. “May this clash take both your paths towards the heavens and beyond, and may both your organizations cultivate much glorious prowess in the years to come.”

Sensing that the start of this clash, one of the main purposes of their actions against the sect today, was drawing near, Kite sank into his ready stance. As combat meditation followed, replacing churning thoughts with attentive clarity, he reviewed what little he knew of March of Gossamer Morning. The elf was mostly a spell-user, as was common among her kind, and shared the sun and magic essences with the erstwhile founder of her sect.

But unlike the accompanying cloud essence which had been part in naming the sect, sect leader Morning had instead added the zeal essence to her path, resulting in the offensive Wrath confluence. While many held their powers close to heart when possible, you couldn’t rise to such a public station as sect leader without a lot of your powers becoming more common knowledge. From what Kite knew of the sect leader's powers, he knew that he would need to leverage his path in just the right way, and that this would be a most uncomfortable fight no matter the outcome.

Apparently sensing that both combatants were ready through their auras, Orichalcum Fist nodded once, seeming satisfied. “The gaze of Warrior is upon us. Ready yourselves and… begin!”

“Flaring celestial radiance! Descending solar fury!”

“Wall!”

Blazing heat and radiance erupted from the sect leader as a corona of golden flames enveloped her, forming a barrier of both protection and deterrence that immediately scorched nearby plantlife into fine dust. But Kite’s own barrier spell wasn’t an attempt to curtail those particular defenses, but rather what appeared above them. A secondary, smaller sun had appeared in the sky above them, perhaps fifty meters up into the air, growing from a pinprick to around two meters in diameter in three heartbeats before it started to fire a thick beam of light and heat down toward Kite. The spell was a bit of a signature of the sect leader, and there were enough eyewitness accounts to confirm that it would continue to spew its sustained ray of wrath for as long as the sect leader fed mana into it.

But the descending beam met what could best be described as a ceiling of force split into multiple segments to cover as wide an area as possible. This meant that the ray of magical flames and light did not immediately start frying Kite like a surprisingly resilient bug beneath a lens, but from the way it started burning through his barrier, it was only a matter of time. Still, time was at least a currency which Kite could spend wisely.

Foregoing his mantle for now, Kite instead had the three hungry vortices of Spirit Singularity lock onto the woman, further adding to the drain of her mana as he started forward at a steady pace, projecting attack after attack towards the sect leader. She was apparently already wise to some of his tricks as well, as she took great care to either dodge or intercept the subtle ripples in the air with one of her nine spheres, which in turn had started firing more simple blasts of magic toward Kite.

“Ward!”

From the sheer frequency of attacks, it felt like the woman was wielding nine wands simultaneously. Unlike Emilio Cardenco, the most skilled wand-wielder Kite had so far encountered, she didn’t use any modifications or special attacks, but clearly compensated in volume of fire alone. Kite raised both barriers of Heaven-and-Void Warding to protect his advance, thanking Fortune for the silver-ranked upgrade of Spiritual Futility. The special ability would both make sure that the barriers held up better under sustained attacks, as well as continually chip away at even more of the sect leader’s mana, and Kite decided to further add to the retribution as his chitinous shield appeared on his left arm.

Targe of the Mirror-Swarm turned each attack striking it or Kite’s barriers into a small, retributive mote of light which unerringly seeked out its origin. And while each attack was rather weak, making the return damage even weaker, there were a lot of them. What began as a steady, one-directed torrent of magical bolts soon became a churning mess as an equal amount of shimmering motes started going back the other way, further added to from above as the beam of sunfire created its fair share from eating through the barriers of Leyline Warding.

“Glimpse of dawn, cleave the horizon!”

Apparently finding the current state of things, with her attacks mostly costing her more mana and painful pinpricks in return, Sect Leader Morning changed things up. The stream of wand-fire ceased abruptly as one of the orbs shot forward and past Kite, and he barely had the time to raise his shield to intercept an emerging ring of slashing, golden light which burst from the sphere that the sect leader could apparently use as a secondary origin point of her spells. The spell was a powerful one too, no doubt usually employed as a melee-range power, and Kite suspected that his shield alone would have been unable to weather it had it not been for Pattern-Shattering Counter helping to break it down.

From the way the ground cracked beneath him, there was also a fair deal of kinetic force to the spell, which in turn opened up some more mobility for Kite. Shifting his stride, Kite leapt up and to the side only for a small pane of force to appear for him to push off from. Releasing some of the stored force of Unyielding, he shot towards sect leader Morning in a blur, but had to contend with passing through a series of hastily conjured flaming walls to reach his foe. One was cleaved in two by a swipe of his staff, Kite still wanting to keep his dispelling wave in reserve. The second only slightly singed him as his barriers took the brunt of the flames, but at the speeds he was moving, Kite had to accept the burn of the third and fourth walls of sunlight and fire.

The end of his leap ended with a resounding clang of clashing weapons. While she was mainly a spell user, Sect Leader Morning had apparently not been content with letting her melee capabilities fall completely to the wayside, which meant that Kite’s swung staff was met by a raised, straight-edged sword. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship and from the ease with which she managed to turn his blow, Kite suspected that its enchantments were more on the defensive side.

The pair made a few exchanges of ringing steel, both apparently seeming content with feeling each other out while their respective means of attrition did their work. Because his charge into melee range did force Kite to contend with the constant burn of the sect leader’s fiery aura, something which he intended to deal with as soon as he was able to land a strike. But while he did soon reach the conclusion that his own martial skill was greater than the elf’s, her further advancement into silver and the speed and power that conveyed helped keep Kite at bay while her floating orbs did the attacking for her.

“Ward!”

The barrier appeared just in time to intercept another spell channeled through a flanking sphere at Kite’s right, and he thanked Fortune for his expanded vision, even if it still meant that his barriers were kept busy guarding his back and flanks. Even in melee, Sect Leader Morning utilized her powerful spells to attack from awkward angles, putting pressure even on Kite’s omnidirectional defenses. But on the other hand, Kite did manage to pressure the sect leader in turn, changing to wielding his shield and one of Matra’s descendants to keep the retributive damage going in order to punish any poorly made attacks by stealing both her mana and health.

“Wrothful lance! Flight of the will-o-wisp!”

The moment one of Kite’s attacks finally slipped through her guard and dispelled the ongoing flaring flames which emanated from her body, his foe had apparently had enough of melee for the time being unleashing two spells almost simultaneously in order to create some distance. But while he was singed all over and fighting through the seemingly distant pain, her attempt to disengage did cause one corner of Kite’s mouth to twitch in the very hint of a smile.

A solid beam of roiling, red lightning came at Kite from the side in order to force him to step back while Sect Leader Morning started dissolving into a magical sprite to flit away and create some distance. In response, Kite struck - Once, twice, thrice - as the tattoos of his mantle glowed for a brief second. The additional arms appeared as brief, sweeping flashes of light, carrying each strike towards its intended target through Kite’s intent.

One sweep broke the beam of lightning, Matra’s descendant seeming to cleave the red fulmination in two before the dispelling effect traveled the length of the spell in a ripple of dissolving magic. The next, made with a blade only half seen but fully felt, flicked out to deliver a Disrupting Strike to the glowing wisp that was the sect leader, shattering the spell and forcing her back into physical form. And the third, a chiming staff trailing the emptiness of the void, swung with just the right timing to strike her now falling form. The sect leader did react, reaching out to grab one of her spheres to drag her out of the way of the attack, but she was just a hair too slow.

Void-Sunders-Firmament impacted the left side of her face, spatial tears unfurling to sunder flesh and bone before its twin echoes followed just moments after. And these were true strikes, not targeting only the sect leader’s mana pool, and the ensuing hiss of pain as one half of her face along with one eye, was ruined.

“Tides of dawnlight!”

The next spell was of a different magnitude than those that had come before, three waves of searing sunfire which rose to burst out in every direction from the elf, and this time Kite did let her push him back a bit as he retreated under the protections of his barrier instead of letting them engulf him.

His time spent with Gauntlet had taught Kite a few things, after all. First, not to fall into the habit of only depleting his foes mana, even if that was usually Kite’s way to victory against other essence users. Crippling important body parts would only make the ensuing fight that much faster, after all, and it was an excellent opportunity to feint if the opponent looked to accept attacks while thinking that only their mana was on the line. While not lethal to a silver, losing a hand, a foot or an eye did impact them and their capability to fight after all.

“The direct route to victory lies in utilizing all parts of yourself and your style,” master Zarth-an had counseled during one of their precious sessions. “Honing in on only the one, even if it is often the best approach, would be pure neglect. Even in a battle of mana and spirit, the physical will ever remain another area which you must conquer.”

“And I have Ryker to thank for the other lesson learned,” Kite thought in the split second where he and the now one-eyed sect leader regarded one another, a moment of spirits even as their auras continued their clashing. “My mantle need not be all or nothing. Just revealing a glimpse at a time, unfurling its potential when you see a moment of weakness, will still keep my enemies wondering.” He did know that the artifact’s secret would be out sooner rather than later, but keeping it as mysterious as possible for the clashes to come felt worthwhile.

If it was even possible, that is. Because the sect leader did fight well. In many ways, Kite got a similar feeling to when he was fighting with Ryker when the man had started to properly let loose in their sparring; that feeling of more experience and higher physical power pushing Kite’s path, advantages and martial skills towards the edge. Fighting someone who had progressed further was by no means impossible, but the advantages someone like the sect leader had did make it a most risky prospect.

As Kite’s aura remained stubborn in the face of the more powerful one bearing down on him, both combatants sprung into action again; spell clashing against barriers as staff and blade cleaved the sun. Through him, the guild had struck the first major blow, but Kite did have a feeling that things would only get more heated as their duel beneath the heavens truly began.

Junior elder Silk moved through the streets of the Luminous Cloud sect compound at her usual brisk pace. With her swift essence, brisk was perhaps an understatement, but to the students of the sects, her dignified walk which somehow had her blur along its streets and corridors had become commonplace. As a junior elder, Silk’s days were always filled with work. They were the managers of the sect, after all, handling most day-to-day routines and the logistics of making the institution work, leaving the elders, grand elders and sect leaders to focus on the broader strokes and the strengthening of their paths.

And as her position let her flit about the sect bearing messages and orders while talking to any and all, it had remained the perfect position for Silk. After all, it left endless possibilities to sow the seeds of Discord. Small ones, sure, but every ecosystem needed growth of all scales to thrive.

“Thank you, junior elder,” one of the disciples said after Silk delivered a message from one of the remaining elders to their group standing at the ready to defend the sect, should the need arise. Even inside the sect’s walls, those sensitive enough could feel the clashing silver-ranked auras from the duels being fought. That spiritual spectatorship had everyone on edge, and Silk very much wanted to keep it that way.

“And thank you, disciple, for standing ready to defend the sect from those traitors to our way of life,” Silk intoned. As she was about to turn and leave, she still left enough hesitation in her posture and aura to make it impossible for the other man to miss. She was just a ‘lowly core-user’ after all, and the students always assumed that any such slips of the spirit were unintentional for people such as her.

“What is worrying you, junior elder?” the man predictably asked, straightening a bit as if the mere act could make his middling bronze-ranked presence more imposing. “Please speak freely.”

Silk schooled her expression as she turned, presenting even more hesitation.

“Disciple, I… am not sure if… The other disciples said…”

“Please, you will find no trouble in sharing,” the man assured him, clearly curious. “The word of a fellow disciple should always be shared among us equals.”

“Well, if the disciple is sure…” Silk said, carefully moving closer to speak more softly. “It’s just that three other groups are preparing to intervene in the duels outside should they feel wronged and find the other side wanting in honor. They are worried about plots and ploys, and has - heavens bless their courage - sworn to defend the sect and its values no matter the elders and their orders, bound by politics. I’m just… worried for them, that is all.”

The disciple nodded along, and Silk had to suppress her smile of triumph as she felt the suspicion and frustration build a bit in the man’s spirit.

“Thank you, junior elder. Your worries are well-founded, it would seem. With this brought to my attention, how could I - Striking Dusk Hornet - not stand with my fellow disciples? If you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with my entourage and fellow disciples.”

“Of course, Disciple,” Silk said with a demure bow before turning and once more leaving on her business. Even if the dreamed-of intervention of the bronze-ranked disciples would probably fail, it would still further their cause. And should they actually be able to gather enough of them to threaten or even bring down one of their enemies? Well, the polarization and possible abandonment of honor that followed in the conflict would be even better.

“Sow each seed with care, and nurture those that grow. Each opportunity let go is potential that will always be left unrealized,” she silently mused to herself as she made a sharp turn to the left in order to take a shortcut between some of the houses where the more favored disciples lived. They were all empty at the moment, the favored ones either being part of the procession to meet the guild or at the walls to spectate.

But Junior Elder Silk, hidden priestess of Discord, did not get to make the next right turn which she had been intending to. Her raised foot never touched the ground, instead finding itself snagged on something. Pain and agony raced through her body a moment later, and any attempt at screaming only became a hoarse gurgle as Silk’s throat seized. It was only belatedly that she heard the faint clinking of chains and a whisper of triumph.

“Found you.”

“Fulminating judgment!”

Gossamer March of Morning felt the hints of spiritual exhaustion seeping in from the corners of her mind as she once more unleashed the one spell in her arsenal which had proven the most effective against the young upstart; a rather simple explosion of roiling red lightning which would burst from a point of her choosing to envelop an area. It engulfed and circumvented the Pathbreaker’s barriers, and even if that still triggered retributive effects to damage both her mana and body, she was at least making some kind of progress.

“But is it enough? No, it has to be. My path will prevail. The shame I would suffer upon defeat. I am the instrument of the sect, and will uphold its honor and- gods curse it!”

The thoughts raced through Sect Leader Morning’s head in an attempt to steel herself and keep her morale in the odd kind of attrition, but the firm handle on her emotions slipped when the brat she was fighting once more trumped her expectations. The explosion of her most reliable spell had just started manifesting close to his feet when he reacted. Previously, attempts to dodge or disrupt the spell had been met with partial success at the most, but the younger man was apparently a quick learner. Too quick for the sect leader’s liking. Her frustrations boiled as his odd tattoos once more flashed and those odd arms appeared quickly enough for one of his dispelling attacks to snuff out the budding detonation in its infancy. But as if that wasn’t enough, two more attacks were projected towards her.

She managed to dodge one of the odd, rippling strikes but the other clipped her shoulder, devouring even more of her mana even though the rest of the attack found nothing to dispel. Morning had long since abandoned such attempts, as any boons on herself had to be chosen most wisely or risk just being turned into a fulcrum of her downfall. And with the young man now learning to predict and counter even her Origin of Wrath, she was forced to add it to the disturbingly long list of spells which would simply cost her more than they would provide. It still irked her of how her very signature, the Relentless Touch of Baneful Suns, had proven naught by a hindrance.

Casting her self-cleanse once more to at least be rid of some of the Pathbreaker’s afflictions, one of them some kind of devious curse confounding her own internal senses, Morning mentally braced herself. Things were looking dire, but she at least had a card left to play.

“And the glory of the sect is worth any cost. As its leader, it is up to me to accept any burden to keep it going towards the heavens with head held high,” Morning thought as she dodged a few more projected attacks while sending out a lance of wrathful lightning of her own. The attack remained frustratingly futile, but this time it was but a mere distraction. Or rather, the distraction to the next distraction.

“Descending solar fury!”

Her signature sun returned, but this time it was not its relentless beam that hounded her foes she was after, but rather the simple distraction of its brilliance. Because from within its core, Morning’s nine orbs followed, carefully descending as close to the searing beam as possible in order to further hide their presence. The Ninefold Suns were her most prized treasure, and repairing them after what she intended to do next would be most costly, as well as a weakness which she needed to keep hidden from her true rivals in the other sects.

While the Pathbreaker blocked or disrupted both incoming rays, Morning did smile as the orbs managed their descent into a circle around the man, boxing him in as she started their detonation. The artifacts were powerful, with mana carrying the affinity of sun and potency stored within. If she was fortunate enough, the resulting detonation might even kill the man. Such things did happen in clashes after all.

As usual, the brat seemed to have eyes on the back of his head, but Morning had expected that. Him noticing them at this stage would not help him, as the detonations would come from all around and with enough force to sunder any barrier or other attempt at defenses. Part of her wanted to shout her impending triumph to him and all onlookers, but she refrained from inviting calamity like that, instead feeling the energy building over the two heartbeats it would take.

The Pathbreaker did react, his tattoos once more flashing as barriers started appearing around him, both the discs and walls while three attacks flickered out towards her. Even with her victory close at hand, Morning still parried one and dodged the next. But like so many times before, the third did connect, eating its usual chunk of her mana. That mattered little though, as-

“What?”

The thought was a startled one as a completely new sensation came over the sect leader, something which she had so far never felt in her life since awakening her powers; Morning’s connection to her artifacts just… vanished. Not completely winking out, but instead muted and off, as if she could only feel its calling from very, very far away.

But what did wink out was the nine orbs, their connection lost to her as they fell to the ground as mere spheres of metal and crystal.

“What?”

The thought repeated itself, echoing in the sudden blankness of Morning’s mind. And the moment of stunned startledness cost her, as three more attacks impacted her spirit; each tearing out more mana than the last. As her consciousness finally started slipping, Gossamer March of Morning did not know exactly which of the three attacks that finally did it, her thoughts consumed with confusion, shame and an uncomfortable, deep sense of loss.

“Thank you Fortune for the peculiarities of my path. And thank you, Soul, for all the pointers in how to best utilize them,” Kite thought as the sect leader finally collapsed. He remained the lone standing figure in the charred desolation that covered a great area outside the sect, and even while Sage kept pouring in every charge the familiar generated into the gradual healing effect it possessed, Kite still felt a bit of kinship with the scorched terrain.

It had been a while since he was that sore after a duel, and even if he would have been able to keep going for a while longer still, Kite really hadn’t wanted to try being on the receiving end of the detonating artifacts that the woman had managed to sneak in around him. So he had cut her connection to them.

“A weapon is a weakness in itself, and especially wands and such nonsense,” Soul had said during one of her rants uplifting the body and its magic as the only true implement of power in this world. “They become a crutch for most, and if you take them away, what are they? And with your powers, Pathbreaker, you can really drive that point home.”

And the celestine had been proven right. Dispelling conjured weapons had become somewhat of a mainstay for Kite during his career as adventurer and duelist so far, but this was the first time that he had managed to suppress just the right kind of special ability in his foe. To use more advanced magical implements, such as offensive wands, staves and even many vehicles, one needed a corresponding essence power. And as the nine orbs had always seemed to act very much like a multi-faceted, advanced wand during their duel, using Disrupting Strike’s silver-ranked version had suppressed that very power, both canceling a most dangerous detonation and letting Kite drive home the finishing blow.

“A crutch indeed,” Kite couldn’t help but muse as Orichalcum Fist called his victory from his stone, one of the few landmarks in the vicinity seemingly untouched by the violence.

“The Pathbreaker claims victory, and through him the Autumn Wanderer’s guild have proven their strength before Warrior. Praise be his strength, and praise be the great dedication you have shown him this day,” the man called, seeming most enthusiastic of the development so far. “May the tempering you both found here take you to the Heavens and beyond.”

What followed was a bustle of activity as the sect procession ran over to encircle their fallen sect leader, their auras a mix of disbelief, fear, anger, outrage and other similar notions. The representatives of the guild also made their way to Kite’s side in short order, Dragonfly being the first.

“You did it, Kite! We all did it! We won!” she cheered, almost taking him off his feet with one of her assault-grade hugs that caused the scorched ground beneath to crumble further.

“We did, my ardent Dragonfly,” Kite said, albeit a bit distractedly as he was following another development off in the distance. “Or at least managed to accomplish what we came to do.”

Popping a healing pill into his mouth, Kite turned his attention more fully towards the sect itself, and what looked like some kind of activity at its closest wall, continuing; “But we might need to brace ourselves, as more trouble might just have decided to come for us in turn.”