Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 409 Attack Combination

Even in death, he could not die. It was never-ending. The sting of death.

Altair had lost count of how many times he had experienced death. Had tasted the cool edge of a Vale wrought sword, cutting him down. He never won a match. Yet the Vale King's lived experience with Iliana was his to wield. Each time he killed him and proceeded to challenge her, he'd die, and the cycle would repeat for five hours.

After five hours, when the fragment of the Vale King would sizzle out, he had the honor of dying on his own.

If he needed rest, he had to die. If he wanted to eat, it had to be done in combat and die. It was all hell. Hell, that often pushed him past his limit until he fainted. He would always awake through the confines of resurrection.

Death had a unique sting, one that often left him paralyzed and confused by what happened.

For a long time, he thought he was being punished. That all that he had ever done was a consequence of all the wrong he had done. It surely had to be. He had killed so many. Had crushed countless beneath his boot. Had destroyed not just a planet but two, albeit not alone. It was still his fault.

If the winner takes all, they too must take the consequences, or so he told himself, rising from the scarlet grass.

He missed how green and crispt they once were. They had devoured so much of his blood now that they had lost their color. Each blade of grass was now a relic, a valuable ingredient to any arcanist worth his salt. Even Medusa often came to cut the grass, collecting the ones that had tasted his blood the most.

"Come at me," Iliana shouted about a hundred paces away.

He shuddered but bounded forward like a white wolf, his silvery hair fluttering behind him as he rounded on her. Stalagmite tore from the earth with every intention of running him through, but he saw them coming from a mile away with his Spiritual Domain, weaving through the large chunks of earth with the grace of a dancer. He growled, not bothering to use Sovereign Gale until absolutely necessary.

His own speed would suffice for now.

Suddenly, hundreds of thousands of combinations wove through his mind, splintering off like jagged bolts of lightning through the skies into various actions and reactions between him and Iliana.

He had realized this was one of his talents that he had neglected to train due to a lack of rivals; even though the use of Foresight allowed him to glimpse one future, his ability to create attack patterns to bend his enemy to his will worked so well, it almost seemed like dying so many times was worth it. Almost.

Flame-wrought spears congealed in the skies like a storm of rain falling overhead, bolting at him.

Forcing himself not to pry into his Omniscience, Altair's mental image of the battlefield changed to compensate for the changes. A thousand patterns became ten thousand, branching off into a hundred thousand, spreading out like a web. His eyes glowed, and the thrumb of his sword arced as he cut through a flaming spear, his sword spinning into thousands of semi-arcs to form a sort of dome around him.

Carved nearly to the bone and made anew with Ashen Blood, Altair fought and fought, the combination in his head evolving so quickly his body often times failed him. At some point in the battle, he gave up the Vale Sword in his left hand, controlling it mentally with the restriction of his body.

Multiple notifications ran across his iris, but he ignored them. He ignored everything, facing Iliana, coughing up more and more blood, unable to reach her.

He tried every combination in his mind, but none of them appeared to work, as they fought for seven days and seven nights. Altair fell to his knees, his Vale Qi and Mana empty from his core. His muscles were torn and stretched in ways that would leave even the strongest of Ninth Circles shattered.

"In the old world. We would call people like you Grandmaster." Iliana said softly. Her voice was somehow distant.

He looked up at her but saw only mist.

"Learn in Death, Disciple." and her blade separated his head from his shoulders.

***

Raven coldly stared at Iliana, making her way through the throng of guards watching. It wasn't the first time they had seen him fall. And it wouldn't be the last, but she didn't like it.

Watching her master perish nearly every day left her furious. This time, however, Altair did not wake like he normally would have. Her heart sank, and she moved towards him. He felt cold like ice.

"He's once more in a state of Soul Exhaustion. His skills have grown so much that he can't physically handle them for seven days and seven nights. I nearly forgot. Get him inside. Even in a state of soul Exhaustion. He will have to face the Vale King."

Raven glowered hatefully at her. "You're a bad master!"

"Is that right, little bunny!" The bad woman with a mirthless smile inquired. Raven stood up before she could say more.

"It is! You don't need to kill him! You don't need to—"

"Then stop me," Iliana said, rolling her shoulders. "I am stronger than you; that means I can do whatever I want. If you feel I've done wrong. Kill me. Defeat me. And I'll go.

If not, you can piss right off."