Asheron's Fall: The Power of Ten, Book Six - AF Chapter 282 – On Swordplay
Ebook the Power of Ten 6: The First Month Part 2, is finally released on Amazon!
EBOOK SIX IS NOW OUT! The First Month, Part Two!
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“The first system of power is science. As far as martial combat goes, these are all the techniques, footwork, thrusts and counters, angles of attack, patterns and movements taught to you by your masters, the pure raw skill of combat as perfected by masters over the centuries and passed on to our generation. In archery, this is the evolution of throwing rocks, to throwing pointing sticks, to shooting pointing sticks, to having machines shooting pointed sticks!
“The second power is magic. Enhanced Armor that can bounce blows that should knock you off your feet, and Weapons moving faster and hitting harder and more surely than pure skill can alone, for example. Magic comes in many varieties and types.
“The third system is psionics, which is not viable here, as we’ve no talents for it. Reputedly its effects are similar to magic, but subtly different in many ways.
“The fourth system is spiritual, the foundation of which is ki, the height of which is chi. Chi has many analogues to magic, but is more martially inclined. Ki represents the profound truth and core of spiritual mastery, and Princess Kristie and her family are masters of profound combat.” I inclined my head at her. “Like magic, she cannot spend nor wield it actively or externally. But she can accumulate a lot of it, and she can employ her spiritual strength as readily as you can flex your arm.
“She is very, very good at martial combat, at a level you simply are not familiar with, Your Majesty.
“She can run faster than you could back when the Land fed you the power to do so. She can pound stone with her fists, slash a silken ribbon in half with her elbow, and throw a toothpick into a rock.
“She is aware of everything that is going on within thirty feet of her at a level of detail you would find excruciating. She can count every nail in the floor and see bodies buried underground, look inside a lock to see how to pick it, see the mechanisms of a trap or pit within the walls and floor.”
I extended my hand back out of sight of her, held up four fingers.
“Four,” Kris said without turning her head. She looked at the Princess and the Queen Mother. “Two and three,” she smiled slightly, and both women flushed at being caught out on their own tests.
“Your reputation among the swordmasters has indeed spread quickly,” the king admitted, his blue eyes keen with interest. “I would be honored to test your skill, but I am afraid that after that magnificent meal…”
I lifted a hand. “If Your Majesty is willing?” I asked, an orange light gathering in my fingers, my other hand on Crown.
He only hesitated a moment. “It is said that you have many strange and unique spells at your disposal, Lady Magos. Lord Mick… demonstrated the ability to fly and become invisible to sight!” he said, softly enough that his guards by the door couldn’t hear him.
“As well as See the Invisible,” I half-smiled, “which a number of assassins and spies did not realize, to their detriment. This… is simply a variant spell to aid digestion.”
He blinked. “So specific?” he had to ask, startled at the implications.
“The best spells are niche spells!” I offered, raising the light. “If I may?”
He bowed his head slowly, and I reached over and flicked the orange light into his chest.
For a moment it was visible as illumination inside his nose and throat, and then it was gone.
He almost bounced to his feet, his one hand clapping to a gut still hard from constant workouts and superhuman vitality. “Ah!” he exclaimed in surprise. “I am not hungry, but the feeling of being full is completely gone!”
“If you would like to spar with Princess Kristie and verify what I have said, now is the time, Your Majesty.” I glanced over at her.
“Oh, right.” She reached over her shoulder into her Masspack, and pulled out a finely polished wooden case. She set it on the table between us, pausing just long enough for everyone to appreciate the craftsmanship, then unlocked it with a tap of her thumb and opened it up.
Two identical longswords rested in there, facing one another. The Queen Mother and Princess Fan rose to get better looks at them, while the King leaned forward to feast his eyes on them.
Literally. QL 40 stuff just tugs at the eyes and is REALLY hard to look away from.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
I broke their reverie at the gleaming lengths of blued steel, ornate guards, wrapped pommel, and gleaming pommelstone, reaching over, placing my nails on both blades, and murmuring another spell.
Runes shimmered into view on both blades, sinking down into the blueness, but not going away.
Completely unruffled, I lifted one of the swords out of the box, and chopped it down across the fingers of my other hand. There were exclamations of shock and dismay from the Royals when it hacked clean through them… and then I lifted up my hand, completely intact, save for a very visible red welt across my fingers.
“A little numb. Both blades are now endowed with Mercy, and cannot truly harm anything living. If Your Majesty and Your Highness would care to take up a blade?” I asked perfunctorily, presenting the sword in my hand hilt-first to the king.
He took it up slowly, marveling at it. I inclined my head, and the floating Disks that formed the chairs and table moved off to the side of the room, which was plenty large enough for what was coming next.
Princess Fan held up her hand to pause, and pulled a silken ribbon out of her hair, letting her braids fall down. “With your elbow?” she asked, in only a little disbelief.
“Toss it into the air,” Kris instructed her, amused at the challenge.
It was promptly flung into the air, not getting far because cloth.
Kris’ speed shocked the other young woman, because suddenly Kris was airborne and spinning six feet above the ground, her elbows circling and going right through the ribbon… which broke apart into three pieces.
Then she was suddenly on the ground much too quickly, lashing up with one slippered foot, then the other in long yet devastatingly fast spin kicks.
The ribbon continued dropping, now in five pieces.
Kris jerked up and over and froze, staring at Princess Fan with a feral smile, as the last and longest piece of ribbon fell off Kris’s nose, also cut in two.
Kris spun away and stepped away without looking, and everyone could see the air ripple and thin out as her black-nailed fingers lashed back.
Twelve separate pieces of ribbon fluttered to the ground, barely moved at all by the attacks which had sliced them through.
Princess Fan could not help swallowing, watching the pieces of silk hit the ground one by one. Then she blinked, realizing the sword that Kris had taken up was sitting there point-down on the floor, simply balancing by itself, and Kris just plucked it up like it was weightless and instantly being able to do such a thing was nothing.
“She is very, very good at fighting,” the Queen Mother breathed out softly from next to me, impressed in spite of everything.
“Mmm. Toothpick!” I announced, and flicked one in her general direction.
It wouldn’t have made it to her, but her foot came out, tapped it up before it could hit the ground, and it spun up to her hand. In the same motion, she caught it and threw it.
There was a mild crack as it hit the center of the circle made by my thumb and forefinger against the stone wall of the hall, burying itself about halfway in.
The Queen Mother blinked at the sight, her grip tightening on her famous Bow, supposedly enchanted by Asheron himself. Nevertheless, she still leaned over and whispered with great interest, “Can she do that with an arrow?”
“Throw it? Yes. Shoot it? No, she’s not a primary Archer. A proper Archer could punch an arrow right through this wall and hit a fly on the other side of it.”
She blinked at that, looked at me to see if I was joking, then decided I was not, and paused to consider that.
“I would like to hear more about profound archery, then,” she said urgently.
“I’m sure it would be Kris’ pleasure to introduce you to the basics of such.”
—
The match began with little fanfare, both of them wielding identical swords one-handed. The tips touched, legs tensed, and the now-jacketless King instantly lunged.
There was a ping, just a flash of motion, and he had a red welt across his cheek, while his own thrust had gone just an inch wide. Kris’ eyes were completely intense, a slight feral smile on her face as she raised an eyebrow at King Borelean.
“My apologies,” he murmured, not touching the welt, and the duel began in earnest.
It was obvious in seconds that he was overmatched. He had nothing on her in strength, and their strength was such that his weight advantage meant less than nothing. She was tall enough that his reach advantage was less than two inches, and she worked around that edge easily.
Her speed and ability to find openings was surreal, however. The sword she used seemed to bend and twist as she wielded it, slicing here and there, cutting through his shirt and pants and raising red welts as she grazed him, clearly pulling blows that could have crippled him instantly, especially a flicker-cut across his sternum which would have gutted him like a fish.
The King’s eyes, however, were not depressed, but excited. He was attacking in furious and controlled blurs of motion, even one-armed a powerful and ferocious combatant who would easily have overwhelmed both of the guards here.
Kris didn’t appear to be putting in much effort, almost surreal in how smooth and controlled she was. He couldn’t match her speed or footwork, and she seemed to be reading his every move, no matter how complex or odd the angle or approach, and had the counter to it or avoided it with minimal movements time after time.
They were both masters of the blade, but it was plain she was operating at another level, and the only times he hit her were when his own attack set up killing blows for her at throat and chest and groin.
Still, it was obvious the king was having a great time, watching everything she was doing with wide, intent eyes, even more enraptured than the two guards witnessing everything were.
Then Kris’ head jerked around abruptly. “Swords out!” she snarled, and there was a swirl of motion. Abruptly the king was disarmed, both of the blades they’d been using were spinning end over end towards his guards, and Kris was pulling out Quaver.
I flicked a finger, and the king’s own Blade flashed from its scabbard, spinning end over end toward him, where it was plucked out of the air like an errant toy.
The guards were pulling at their own weapons urgently when the blades flashed past each one’s shoulder, and they looked back at the grunts there, shocked to find both blades were stuck in midair, crimson liquid oozing out around both of them. Then the faces of men in dark silks materialized around the blades, gazes forever frozen in shock, and the rest of them followed into visibility as both men crumpled.
There was no motion for that startled half-second, allowing the swords of the guards to clear their scabbards and reflexively parry the curved blades thrusting for their throats as two more assassins in masks and dark pajamas popped out of nowhere.
“Kitchen door, Your Majesty!” growled Kris, and was off for the six men in the hall as steel rang on steel.
