Aetheral Space

Chapter 548 17.20: Partytime

DAY 3The past was being dismantled.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Clad in his almighty Absolutian, Dracaena Serrulata, the Dragon tore his way through the Titan automatic again and again. Previously, propelling himself like this had required the use of a Killing Art, but in this form it was his most natural mode of transportation. He kicked off of the air itself, sheer raw strength launching him in whatever direction he pleased.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Bang.

He tore off the Titan's other arm.

He dove through the Titan's metal guts.

Just for fun, he kicked off the Titan's head.

This Titan had survived dormant deep below Nehr Müt for so many decades, but now that it had encountered the Dragon its remaining operating time was measured in seconds. The laughter of its conqueror swam across the wind, filling the desert with its powerful resonance. Clad in his Absolutian, even his voice was a force to be reckoned with.

The Dragon did not go unopposed, though. Wherever there were dragons, there would surely be those who thought themselves dragonslayers.

The severed arm that was now strewn across the landscape was, of course, far too heavy for Dragoon de Fleur to hold -- for any human to hold -- but the same wasn't true of its shadow. Dragoon wrapped the black plane around itself like a rope and swung it towards the distant Dragon -- and, following its shadow's path, the mechanical arm hurtled through the air in sympathy. The killing method was less befitting the slaying of a dragon and more suited to swatting a fly, but it would serve.

No. It could serve. If it hit.

The Dragon twisted his body in midair, letting the attack pass right beneath him -- and then began running down the length of the mechanical limb towards the ground. Behind him, the Titan collapsed for the last time, reduced to scrap by the Dragon's tender attention. The Dragon paid it no mind. He was already moving onto the next amusement of the morning.

Even gripped by the ecstasy of battle like this, he still had his reason. Now his enemies were three. His priorities were clear.

He would have liked to destroy the unknown factor called Nurarihyon first, but he had disappeared shortly after he had equipped his Absolutian. Among the ones still available to the Dragon, then, Dragoon de Fleur was clearly the greater threat. His martial skill was far superior to that Don Hadrien, and he didn't use his ability as a crutch either. Besides, Don Hadrien had literally sold the clothes off his back -- the Dragon didn't have to worry about further usage of Scorpio Contract.

In his Absolutian form, the Dragon's speed was a terror. He crossed four-hundred meters with four steps in four seconds, his arms flapping in the wind behind him, bearing upon Dragoon de Fleur before the boy could so much as register his approach. Don Hadrien fired off that Golden Rule of his a few times during the Dragon's charge, but all it accomplished was scattering his afterimages.

A wooden fist was pulled back.

This was it. That frail body wouldn't stand up against one of the Dragon's punches, even if de Fleur shielded himself with a shadow. It would be an inglorious end for such a glorious opponent, but sometimes that was just how things went.

The Dragon took the last step --

"That's enough."

-- and blue Aether buzzed.

When using his Absolutian, the Dragon lost access to Libra Imaging, so he couldn't see -- but his other senses were sharpened enough that he could easily sense what appeared in front of him then. The ghost, the one that had vanished. Nurarihyon.

He was standing upside-down in mid-air, defying gravity twice over, his face only inches away from the Dragon's. One second he had been absent, and the next he had been right there. This wasn't a feat of speed or something like Scorpio Contract either. It was more like what the Dragon had observed in Pandershi's records of the original Dragan Hadrien -- the recording-based ability called Gemini World.

Nurarihyon had waited until now to attack -- until the Dragon had voluntarily sealed away Libra Imaging and thus could no longer read Aether. Ahaha… the Dragon thought, frozen in the moment of crisis. You've got some secrets, huh, buddy boy?

The spectre raised a hand.

"Leo Reign."

A beam of pure heat and force blasted out of Nurarihyon's palm with a screech -- and poured ceaselessly into the front of the Dragon's helmet. Smoke poured into the air. The scent of burning filled the nostrils of everyone present. The Dragon willingly withstood the onslaught only for a moment before leaping back, turning on the defensive.

As the Dragon landed in the center of the destruction, amidst the Titan's grim remains, Nurarihyon vanished and the beam abated.

Only for a moment, though.

There was another flash of blue to mark Nurarihyon's reappearance, now directly above the Dragon -- and the instant he appeared, he started firing the beam downwards. The Dragon lifted his hands over his head, using his palms to catch and mitigate the damage from the attack, even as the pressure of the blast buried him into the stone up to his ankles. The ground around him began to melt and harden into glass, such was the ferocity of Nurarihyon's onslaught.

The Dragon understood it. Even without his third eye, he had experience to guide him, and so he could put together a pretty good guess at the mechanics of this ability. It was the kind of thing that charged over time, slowly gathering heat and force until the user was ready to unleash it like this. Perhaps Nurarihyon had been charging all throughout the battle so far. Perhaps he'd been charging even before then.

Whatever the case, the strength he'd gathered was nearly a match for the defenses of the Dragon's Absolutian.

"Golden Rule!"

As if that wasn't enough, that fly was still buzzing. The Dragon grunted as the six-shot blast slammed into his side, but he didn't move from his bracing position. The beam was the true danger -- anything else was just a distraction.

Besides, to tell the truth, he didn't think much of this Don Hadrien.

It was clear that the guy was a rank amateur. Every attack he'd landed so far had been done with the aid of that gaudy Aether Armament and an ability that relied on money rather than skill. Even worse, the way he used his Golden Rule was just embarrassing. He knew that six-shots combined together were a strong combination, so he just spammed it over and over again without any real strategy. The Dragon would be genuinely surprised if that moron had ever been in a real fight before without some henchmen backing him up. To think they were once the same person… ugh, it made him cringe.

Click-click-click-click-click-click.

"Golden Rule!"

The Dragon grunted again as another shot smashed into him. This wasn't good. Damage was beginning to accumulate -- powerful as it was, his Absolutian could only hold up against constant and sustained assault for so long. Even if his armour remained intact, he inside would not.

Dragoon de Fleur was moving too, using the same shadow-trick as before. He grabbed the shadow of a huge hunk of debris and twisted it into a rope, before swinging it to hurl the metal chunk at the Dragon. He had to do something before it hit him, before it knocked him out of his defensive stance.

Nothing else for it. This would cost him some defense, but it would buy him time. The mouthguard of the Dragon's Absolutian crumbled away, revealing his grimacing jaws beneath.

He took a deep breath.

The central conceit of Absolutian was that it sealed off any other Aether abilities, providing a physical boost in scale to the sealed ability's potential and complexity. Strength, speed, durability… all of it was brought up to an entirely different level. If that was the case, then this too should have become something unbelievable.

Killing Arts: Fafnir!

The Dragon opened his mouth -- and once again, the Dragon breathed fire.

This time, the flames that poured forth from his mouth were so hot they burnt blue, spreading a sapphire sea of fire across the ground around him. The shadows Dragon de Fleur was relying on were blasted apart, the hunk of debris going wide into the distance. Don Hadrien, all but naked, was forced to retreat backwards as well -- a stream of amusing expletives pouring from his mouth as he barely avoided the flames.

Up above, still blasting, the thing called Nurarihyon showed its first sign of emotion -- a simple click of the tongue.

His serene blue eyes slid down to Dragoon. "Dragoon de Fleur," he said placidly. "Your Guardian Entity isn't currently in use, is it?"

Looking back up at him, the black-haired boy shook his head.

Both he and Don Hadrien had been provided with two versions of the same Guardian Entity by Nurarihyon. Both had the same name -- Yatagarasu, a nehrcrow with the simple ability to split apart into multiple bodies. Don Hadrien had been making liberal use of his Guardian Entity throughout the battle, but Dragoon de Fleur was yet to use his.

"Acknowledged," Nurarihyon said calmly. "Entity Assimilation: Yatagarasu."

Dragoon de Fleur widened his eyes. "H-Huh?"

Don Hadrien furrowed his brow. "What?"

Up until now, Nurarihyon -- the only one of their group with knowledge of how Guardian Entities worked -- had assured his comrades that, once he had bestowed an Entity upon someone, he lost all ability to influence it further. Clearly, that wasn't true. Dragoon de Fleur could feel it -- the Guardian Entity that had been waiting within his Aether suddenly vanishing, as if snatched away by an invisible hand.

And, at the same time, two massive black leather wings burst out of Nurarihyon's back.

As administrator of the Guardian Entity network, this was one of the authorities that Nurarihyon possessed. He could recall one of the Guardian Entities he'd created and bestowed, devouring it in order to temporarily install its attributes into himself. In this case, the huge black wings -- a stark contrast to his pale radiance -- were more aesthetic than anything else.

The true value was in Yatagarasu's ability.

Nurarihyon intensified the force of the beam he was unleashing -- and, at the same time, his body split. Two bodies, four bodies, eight, sixteen -- sixteen copies of Nurarihyon, each firing a burning beam at the Dragon, each blasting ceaselessly from a new angle. Just like with the original Yatagarasu, their individual power was reduced, but the multiple firing points meant that the Dragon was no longer able to focus his defenses in one area. The blue light, combined from so many angles, produced an aurora that left only the Dragon's trembling silhouette visible.

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For a moment, Don Hadrien had seemed shocked by the revelation of Nurarihyon's duplicity -- but now, looking at his enemy's impending defeat, a wild joy took over instead. Laughing, he stood and threw out his arms, taking in the sight.

"Yeah!" he screamed. "Get fucked, idiot! Who the hell did you think you were messing with?! I'm Dragan Hadrien! Dragan Hadrien! You're nothing! Got that?! Nothing!"

He took a single step forward, grinning, ready to gloat some more. That was when it happened. Just before his feet could touch the ground, there was a blur of movement behind him, and a deadly flying kick --

Snap.

-- collided with his back.

Don Hadrien's mockery degraded into a high-pitched squeal as he was sent down to the ground face-first, skidding across the rocks by his face and leaving a trail of red. The top half of his body twitched as he tried to rise, but found himself unable. Instead, the most he was able to manage was a bloodshot glance over his shoulder.

"You…!" he hissed.

The Dragon stood behind him, back in his regular form, grinning widely. The sight before them all was absurd. There the Dragon stood, having just brought Don Hadrien down… and there the Dragon stood separately, still withstanding Nurarihyon's attacks. There were two of him? What was this?

Nurarihyon lifted his hands -- all thirty-two of them -- and the attack stopped. The Dragon he'd been attacking remained where it was -- and now, without the shining light, all present could see the trick. Through the hole in the Absolutian's mouthguard, nothing could be seen but darkness. It was an empty suit of armour.

"You left your armour behind and tunneled underground," Nurarihyon observed. If he was at all bitter about having been tricked, it didn't show in his words. "Quite ingenious."

"My legs…" Don Hadrien moaned on the ground. "I can't feel my legs…"

He went ignored.

The Dragon smirked, wiping some soot from his nose with a thumb. "That's right. Just because I take my Absolutian off doesn't mean I have to deactivate it, right? Until I send it away, it'll stay out wherever I left it. Pretty handy. Oh, speaking of which…"

He snapped his fingers, and the standing suit of armour unweaved into strands of blue Aether.

"Libra Imaging," the Dragon sighed, as if taking a bath after a long day. "Oh, that's the stuff. Lemme tell you -- it ain't gonna take me long to recover enough to put that thing on again, and you've pretty much shown off all your tricks. Besides, if I'm reading your chakra right…"

As if on cue, the wings disappeared from Nurarihyon's back.

"Yep," the Dragon nodded. "That ability doesn't last long, huh? Don't worry though. We can keep going. Unlike you guys, I'm pretty confident in my stamina."

Three pairs of eyes stared at him, and three brains worked through how this fight would develop going forward. The results weren't good. With one of their number down, and their capabilities exposed, the chances of victory were growing smaller by the second.

So they made the smart choice.

Dragoon de Fleur fell backwards, disappearing into his own shadow -- which swirled out of existence shortly after.

The Dragon frowned. "Seriously?"

Nurarihyon shot upwards like a white rocket, disappearing into the black sky above -- bright as he was, he mingled with the stars before fading from sight.

The Dragon scowled. "Oh, come on, guys! Don't be boring!"

He swung around -- at the very least, Don Hadrien wasn't going anywhere, right? He thought that, but that guy was gone too, even though he surely should have been paralyzed. The Dragon turned his head upwards, tracking the chaotically fluctuating chakra of his last remaining target.

Oh, that made sense. Haha, that was actually pretty clever!

Dragoon de Fleur's Guardian Entity had been devoured, but the same wasn't true for Don Hadrien's Yatagarasu. He'd reduced the nehrcrow to two bodies, and had them lift him away by the shoulders, his legs flapping in the wind below him as he made his airborne nigh-naked escape. Even with this humiliating situation, though, his face was contorted with fury as he screamed down at the Dragon.

"This isn't over, asshole! Got that?! I'm coming back -- and I'm going to kick your fucking ass!"

The Dragon just frowned, shrugged, and crouched on the ground. Without missing a beat, he reached down and scooped up chunks of the broken glass their battle had left in its wake. Blue Aether passed from his palm into the shards.

In the distance, Don Hadrien's fury faded just a tad, replaced with unease.

"Wait…" he muttered at the far-off shape. "What are you --"

The Dragon hurled his payload with all the force and fury of a sniper bullet, the glass shards carving crackling blue trails in the air behind them.

Bang.

There was only a split second to react. Don Hadrien's eyes bulged in terror. Don Hadrien's mouth distorted in dismay. The shot flew, flew, flew, inches from his face, and…

Scorpio Contract!

…it went right through the empty space where Don Hadrien had just been.

"Huh," the Dragon muttered as he shook the smoke from his hand. "Guess he did have something left."

Then he looked around at the mess their battle had left. The ground that had become glass. The torn-apart wreckage of the Titan automatic. The mesa that had been left to crumble like a child's tower of blocks. They really had done a number on this place.

Sighing, spent, the Dragon flopped onto his back and started making snow angels in the broken glass.

"What now…?" he wondered aloud. "My ride's kinda long gone. Do I just walk home?"

"So," said Dragana Hadrien. "Let's go over where we stand."

As soon as Dragana had returned from her excursion into Zepan proper, she'd called everyone in Ward 8 to gather at the huge bonfire they'd constructed at its centre, where the windmill had once been. Unlike basically everyone else in Ward 8, Dragana wasn't recognisable -- she clearly had no qualms about gathering intelligence in person. Ruth suspected she also had some kind of ability that helped with that, but she wasn't certain.

The Captain just grunted, crossing his arms as he leaned back on a bench. "I don't know why we're even entertaining this," he muttered, glaring from between his bandages.

Dragana ignored his naysaying -- it wasn't that difficult, given he'd been saying variations of that same thing ever since they'd come here from Ward 6. His heart definitely didn't seem to be in it.

"Altogether, we have two objectives," Dragana continued, counting them off on her fingers. "Obtain Per Mutation and defeat Zephyr Pandershi."

"Not defeat," Haisley spoke up, sitting with Wyrm and Muzazi. "Kill. He needs to pay."

"Okay, you can kill him, that comes as part of defeating him though so it's basically the same thing --"

"We need to get rid of Niain, too."

Reyansh was the next to speak up. He was huddled over in the corner, barely illuminated by the flames, his gaze distant and his skin clammy. He hadn't spoken in hours -- to be honest, Ruth had suspected he hadn't even been listening up until now.

"Well," Dragana replied, still smiling despite the constant interruptions. "If this Niain guy works for Pandershi, we'll naturally end up facing them at the same time. So it's all basically the same thing. Anyway --"

It was Ruth's turn.

"You said one of our goals is to obtain Per Mutation," she said seriously, looking Dragana in the eyes. "That's not true. Let me be clear. My goal is to bring the real Dragan back. I couldn't care less what happens to the actual sword."

Dragana's smile faded.

"See?" snorted the Captain, but she ignored him.

"Let me be clear too, Miss Blaine," she said, speaking to Ruth with such unfamiliarity that it hurt. "Those two goals I listed are a compromise that gets both of us things we want. This is a temporary alliance. Once you have what you want, and we have what we want, we'll go our separate ways. Then you're free to kill us as much as you like."

"That's not what I --"

"It's not what you meant," Dragana said sharply. "But it's what you said -- and it's what we're going to act based on."

Ruth took a deep breath. Damnit. The longer she was here on Nehr Müt, the more twisted up her mind seemed to get. Everywhere she looked, there was a new absurd version of her friend who she wasn't even sure was her friend. Dragan as a soldier. Dragan as a priest. Dragan as a girl.

She wasn't doing this right. She knew she wasn't doing this right. Nothing good would come of trying to barrel straight through this mess like this. She opened her mouth to say something. To reason, to negotiate, to apologize…

But she had no words to say.

There was a long awkward silence, with only the crackling of the fire to provide some tiny respite.

"Based on the way you're talking, uh… Miss Hadrien…" Muzazi said awkwardly. "I take it you have a plan to achieve these two goals?"

"I do," Dragana nodded, turning away from Ruth. "Word is buzzing all around Zepan -- Director Pandershi has declared a grand reception is to be hosted in Auberon tonight. He's going to make some big announcement there. Citizens are being chosen by lottery to attend."

She smiled.

"So…" she said. "Shall we get ready for the party?"

In the darkness of the city-ring, in the shadows of a makeshift base, Don Hadrien twitched and gasped on a battered mattress.

Basic examination had confirmed it -- that kick had done serious damage to his spine. He was paralyzed from the waist down. And if that wasn't bad enough, there was what he'd had to do in order to escape that last attack…

"I'm surprised," Nurarihyon said, not sounding very surprised at all. "To think you'd rather sacrifice one of your kidneys than that Aether Armament. Is it worth that much to you?"

This is a gift from Old Man Fix, asshole.

"Obviously…" Don Hadrien wheezed, his face pale as chalk as he hacked up blood. "If I lose my best weapon, I'm a sitting duck… you fucking moron…"

His blood was boiling. There was nothing in this world worse than being humiliated, and now Don Hadrien had experienced that awful feeling twice in just as many days. The Dragon… and that fucking swordsman, too… they'd both made fools of him.

They'd made him look like a goddamn idiot!

Well, that was fine, that was fine, that was good, actually. They said vengeance was a dish best served cold, but Don Hadrien preferred his food piping hot. They'd both get theirs soon enough. They'd find out what happened when you made a fool out of Dragan Hadrien.

A low, delirious giggle trickled out of his throat. Soon enough, yeah, soon enough. He'd visit all of this and more upon those who'd fucked with him.

The sound of oozing shadows filled the apartment, and Don Hadrien looked up from his pillow with bloodshot eyes. The freak was back. His ability to hide in shadows made him a halfway decent spy, so they'd sent him out into Zepan to gather intelligence.

Dragoon de Fleur came into the room, hunched over so deeply that he was almost crawling.

"Well?" Don Hadrien demanded, his words slurred from pain. "Did you find anything? Did that asshole get back there?"

The freak wouldn't meet his gaze. "I, um… w-well… nobody was talking about that… at least among the normal citizens… the ones I-I could get to…"

"Fucking useless…" Don Hadrien muttered.

"But!" Dragoon suddenly looked up. "There's a party! A p-party. It's important… a party. In Auberon."

Nurarihyon raised a thin eyebrow. "Whatever that man Pandershi discovered out in the wastes…" he commented. "...it seems to be cause for celebration."

"They have all… the s-surveillance and stuff, so…" Dragoon mumbled. "If we -- if we sneak in there, we can get all the information they have on the other Hadriens. They're sure to have plenty… plenty of information I think, s-so…"

A stained-red grin spread over Don Hadrien's lips as he finished Dragoon's thought. "So you can hide in someone's shadow and let them walk you right in," he said. "I don't know what kind of cameras they have in that place, but I doubt they can look inside people's shadows. Good! That's actually so good. I guess even a brain like yours can generate a good idea sometimes, huh?"

He chuckled, letting his head fall back so he could look up at the ceiling.

"We'll find out all about that Dragon asshole…" he whispered. "What he's all about… his weaknesses… and next time things will go differently." He took a deep breath. "That Pandershi guy's meant to be a genius, too… I'm sure you can find something to treat my injuries there. In fact, that's the most important thing. Don't forget, freak."

"I-I… I won't…"

"You don't have any abilities to heal yourself with?" Nurarihyon asked casually.

Don Hadrien shook his head. "No, I --"

"Leo Reign."

A single bolt of blue light flew from the tip of Nurarihyon's finger -- and pierced Don Hadrien's skull from right between his eyes. His head slid off of the pillow and onto the wooden floor with a moist thump. Smoke poured out from behind his eyeballs.

He had died so quickly there hadn't even been time for outrage. It was an uncharacteristically peaceful death for the entitled man called Don Hadrien.

Blue Aether crackled around the corpse -- flashing once, twice -- and when the light cleared the corpse was no longer that of Dragan Hadrien. It had returned to its original form. A featureless homunculus was now strewn across the floor, blood slowly pouring from the hole in its head like wine from a barrel.

As the blue Aether trickled over to the hem of his kimono, Nurarihyon lowered his hand.

Dragoon de Fleur blinked. "Huh…?" he mumbled, before looking at Nurarihyon and repeating: "Huh…?"

Nurarihyon met his gaze.

"What?" he said. "He was used up."