Broken Tower Saga: The First Swordsman

Chapter 134: The Blood of Mah'shai Clan

The sunset and the battle prolonged. No side was winning, but in longer-term, Wrik's side was losing. Few of them were heavily injured, few fled away, and few gave up on the testbrought themselves out of the test zone. None could blame themthis testthe game was not any less fetal than the war.

No one could condemn another running away for fear of losing their life. Maybe it was a lesson well learnedthe tower was not a play. It's a journey, a deadly one. Those unfortunate should know if they were made for such a journey. 

The two spears met in the mid-air as Lily eyed her opponent. She could not win against Arjamith in a battle of strength, but she had a good intuitionan ability that let her feel where her opponent would attack next. It was not just her, she could see through any falsehood and peer directly at the centre of things. 

It was through that she had seen through Wrik's lie on their first meeting. She could feel someone's inner images just by their breathing. Though it was not perfect, it helped her on many occasions, in the battle of spears or the battle of wits.

Lily burst forth with her mana and assaulted with her spear just as ruthlessly as her opponent. In regard to Mana, she had more than her opponent, and she capitalised on that.

Arjamith, the two and a half metre giant, had a serious expression on his face, noticing Lily was holding nothing back. He thought he might be able to waver her resolve, mentioning her sisters and Dairyl, but it only hardened her mindset more. 

He moved his spear like it was a part of his body, showing his full potential with the weapon. In response, lily did the same. 

The spear moved swiftly in the direction assaulting each other. Arjamith lacked mana compared with Lily, but he was more resistant to mana than anyone else here. Her attack did not even claim half of its fatality to him.

Moreover, Lily had not reached unity with the spear entirely. Something was still holding her back. Her attacks were far weaker than his, giving him the opportunity to deal more blows to her than he received.

The two of them were showing no mercy to each other, attacking each other in vital spots. Even though they were from the same clan, on this field, they were enemies. Any one of them who showed mercy would be dumber than a fool.

Blood buzzed out from the cuts and pierces, more in LIly than Arjamith's, but she continued, gasping for breath.

"There is no point to this," Arjamith said, blocking her spear."You will only make yourself miserable. Well, I do not have problems with that, but it is not just you. My sisters, Dairyl are with you.. . ."

Lily said nothing, attacked with desperation. Her palm felt a little numb, receiving the monstrous strength of her opponent. Even with more mana, she would not break his defence. His resistance was further reinforced than the previous time they had battled.

"It's all your fault," Arjamith yelled at her again, easily blocking her attack. He was like a damning mountain, unmovable against even the storm. "And now, others will suffer for it."

'No, it is not my fault,' Lily screamed in her mind, denying. But fear loomed in her mind with despair. Arjamith's voice rang in her mind again.

"You still have a chance. Leave this game and give a proper apology in front of the clan." 

For a second, she wanted to do just that. She knew she had no chance of winning, but she did not want to see the injustice either. She knew she would fail, but she thought it would inspire others. 

It did inspire others, but all of them were her sisters, friends. If she loses, they will lose with her. The thought of giving up was not new. It was a deep-rooted knot she was carrying for years. 

"Lily" a voice called to her.

Lily knew who it belonged to. She gazed past where the voice came from and saw a youth was coming towards her. But other men stopped him. His eyes were silvery, and the sword moved with his intention. Wrik. He was struggling, too. She did not know when he joined the battle. 

She looked elsewhere and saw Seriel and Sepiel were just the same. The maiden of the spear fought with dried blood on her dress.

She was not alone in this. She was not the only one struggling.

"Lily are you alright?" Wrik said, coming to help her. He was in fairly better shape than others comparing the injuries, but his body was similarly fatigued. H was coming with the intention to help her.

"It is not your place," Lily said to Wrik, resolving her decision further.

"But

"Listen to me outlander," Lily said again. It was not just a game anymore. She had to win against Arjamith and that too alone. "I can deal with him. You need someplace else."

Wrik hesitated for a moment and joined the battle on the other side towards the sack of rations.

"See their state now," Arjamith said. "It would be worse later. Don't worry though, I will show mercy to the maidens, but not to the outlanders. Give up." 

"I will not listen to a hypocrite like you," Lily shouted, thrusting her spear towards the hypocrite. "I had listened enough."

Spear listened to her. It moved swifter than before; stronger than before as a part of her body. She heard him yelling at her again, but she did not put her ears to it. 

She attacked intuitively, guessing the trajectory of her opponent's spear. She dealt a blow on the shoulder of Arjamith. 

On the other side, the halo protecting the ration thinning out. It would only last for a couple of minutes. The battle had not reached its climax yet, but all-out them were bringing out more of their strength. 

Seriel and Sepiel were fighting together across Lily. Their job was to secure the ration, but if only her opponents let her. Only after a few minutes when Wrik and Byul joined them did the pressure. 

Wrik's job now was to secure ration for his army. With his corner of her eyes, he said, Lily was faring better than before. With one less worry for now, he burst out with strength again.

Ration was the most important thing to them now. With just a lack of food for one single night, they might lose the trust of the people they collected. Sincerity did not run well with an empty stomach. He did not know how many would follow them, if he did not have food to spare for them. 

This was a place where one would betray someone for just one night's safely, much less struggling with their life on an empty stomach. 

"Byul," Wrik yelled. 

The short girl nodded and threw the golden thread at him again.

The link succeeded without much problem, and the second source of mana came into his circuit though it was far less than before when they were fighting Ben. Even though Byul was a hybrid between a mage and a warrior, her mana reserve was not much higher than him. Fortunately, she used a lot less mana in between the time. And other than the mana, Wrik felt some warm energy washing over his fatigue. It was very faint, but he could feel it. It appeared Byul learned something new again. 

"Come with me," he said to the maiden and took the lead. 

He was aiming for the sack of rations. 

With his reserve, Wrik triggered the second level of the [Eye of Insights]. The halo of burning silver light intensified and his vision became clear. The mana revolution turned swifter, and the link also became stronger. But that was not all. A splitting pain assaulted his mind, too. He already pulled enough of the ability today, but he left with no other choice here. 

He swung his sword as the maha point scored in madness. He was drafting everything in his reserve. The sword broke the armour of his opponent, flashing scarlet blood in the air. 

A few more come at him. The maiden behind him helped bring their numbers down. 

Wrik hacked, pierced, swung, and slash his sword without any reserve. He could not say he was not feeling any thrill. The thrill of battle was there, and so was his duty.

With a slash of his sword, he broke the thin barrier protecting the sacks. 

"Collect the sacks," he yelled, pulling a sack on his back. The sack was not heavy regarding his superhuman constitution, but he could not lift and bring them all. He put two on his back and made way for the maidens and others. 

There were more than a dozen sacks, but Wrik had to be satisfied with only bringing eight of them. 

Now the only thing left was the dash. Bringing the ration safely to their fortress.

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