Chapter 114: Duel at the Summit (1)
Kori was the first to reach the heart of the duchy.
At the summit of Orion’s ruins, countless spider threads, thick as tree trunks, were intertwined to form a gigantic sphere.
From afar, the structure could have been mistaken for a floating island.
He hesitated for a moment, then crossed the distance in a single leap.
Inside, vast halls and long corridors stretched out, now stripped of all life.
Hands buried in his pockets, Kori advanced at a measured pace, discreetly observing the architecture.
("Gramm must already be here...")
At the end of a corridor, a gaping opening revealed itself.
The chamber beyond was as vast as a football field. Unlike the others, it appeared recent: its walls, still glistening, seemed to be made of coagulated blood.
No sooner had he crossed the threshold than he spotted Gramm, standing motionless, facing a throne.
("So this is the final antagonist...")
---
Since ascending to the rank of duke, Helion had changed profoundly.
His scarlet hair had grown long enough to trail across the floor.
His face had gained a disturbing, almost unreal beauty, to the point that one might have mistaken him for a woman.
Behind him, where six legs once fluttered, twelve blood-red swords now floated in suspension.
A single crown rested upon his head.
The multiple pairs of eyes had vanished, making him appear almost human no more than twenty years old if one ignored the organic amalgam that served as clothing, too tight to be removed.
His posture radiated absolute grace as he observed the two humans.
"Welcome to my abode."
Gramm ignored his words.
His gaze drifted aside, coming to rest on the decapitated body of Duchess Exa lying at the foot of the throne.
"A matricide... no. A genocide. You wiped out every last calamity of Araceae. Why?"
Helion showed no regret.
"Humans have always been willing to do anything to achieve their goals. Why should we deny ourselves the same?"
"I see. A coherent logic, coming from a prince whose pride brought about his downfall," Gramm replied in a neutral voice.
A flicker of anger crossed Helion’s face, quickly suppressed.
"You seem to know a great deal about me. Judging by your strength, you must be the one orchestrating all of this. So tell me... how do you know so much?"
Gramm stared at him with disdain.
"What’s the point? You’ll be dead soon."
Helion smiled.
---
The pressure rose another notch.
The air itself seemed to boil.
Sensing danger, Kori deliberately stepped back.
At that moment, his gaze met Helion’s.
The duke granted him only a brief glance... before completely ignoring him.
("He’s focusing solely on Gramm. No... it’s worse than that. He doesn’t even consider me a potential threat. In his eyes, I’m just a detail to be dealt with later.")
An amused grin stretched Kori’s lips.
("All the better. I can comfortably enjoy the show.")
The tension did not take long to explode.
Helion raised his hand.
A sword shot toward him, which he immediately seized.
<< Royal Authority: Pool of Blood >>
He vanished from the throne.
In the same instant, his blade aimed for Gramm’s neck.
<< Royal Authority: Blood Cut >>
A red beam, saturated with ether, burst forth from the sword.
In a fraction of a second, the hall was ripped open, the ground split apart, a section of the structure torn away before collapsing with a deafening crash.
Yet Gramm had not moved.
A thin layer of light enveloped his fingers, which had stopped the blade mere centimeters from his throat.
Helion was not surprised.
("As expected.")
He immediately increased the pressure.
The eleven other swords stirred, radiating a dark crimson glow.
"The coating... useful, certainly. But let’s see how far it can go."
He commanded ether to accumulate within his blades.
They rose, converged... then plunged toward Gramm.
<< Royal Authority: Blood Explosion >>
Kori leapt instinctively.
("He’s overloading them to the point of detonation...")
The swords converged and exploded with a titanic roar.
This time, the structure gave way completely.
The immense web-like construct crashed into the ground in a thunderous collapse.
When the dust settled, Helion was still floating in the air, held aloft by spider silk.
Gramm, meanwhile, stood at the center of the debris, upright and motionless.
The only difference: the coating now enveloped his entire body.
The dust had merely dirtied his black coat.
"That’s enough."
Gramm brushed the dust away with a gesture.
He bent one leg... then launched himself forward.
His fist tore through the air.
---
<< Royal Authority : Blood Blades >>
Helion instantly reformed his twelve blades and arranged them into a defensive wall to intercept Gramm’s punch.
The impact was colossal.
The strike pulverized six swords at once before its momentum was finally halted.
"It’s time," Helion growled.
He seized two of the remaining blades, one in each hand, and dove toward Gramm with the force of a meteor.
Gramm, deprived of his momentum and entering free fall, snapped his fingers.
<< Pillar of Fire >>
A column of fire erupted beneath Helion, engulfing him head-on.
Burned, but not stopped, the duke pierced through the flames.
<< Royal Authority: Blood Reconstitution >>
The burns healed before one could blink, yet Helion did not wait, immediately engaging Gramm in close combat.
Gramm, bare-handed, parried, dodged, and counterattacked with perfect economy of movement, using his Coating to reinforce each strike.
Helion, for his part, displayed swordsmanship of deadly virtuosity. His two primary blades traced lethal arcs, while the four remaining swords danced around them, launching devious flanking attacks.
---
To a normal observer, the scene would have been nothing more than a succession of flashes of light and thunderous impacts in the sky, bearing witness to the absurd speed of the two combatants.
But Kori, far from being an ordinary human, followed every exchange with razor-sharp focus.
"Magnificent," he murmured, enthralled.
("This calamity is relying on his territory to prevent Gramm from replenishing his ether reserves, while forcing him to spend it massively until he’s exhausted.
In other words, he’s betting on attrition, making optimal use of his hypothetically infinite ether reserves and from what I can see, an authority that allows him to heal his wounds.")
("Gramm, on the other hand, is using only the Coating and rarely his resonance.
Not a single particle of ether is wasted, yet as a strategy, it’s... strange.")
Indeed, Helion was not the first calamity to resort to a war of attrition.
Against this, the classic human counter-strategy is to unleash overwhelming power within the first few seconds, to overwhelm the enemy before the energy disadvantage becomes critical.
In a word: shorten the fight.
Yet Gramm, whose power clearly surpassed Helion’s, was not using this option.
Instead of finishing his opponent with a devastating technique, he played along, letting the duel drag on at the risk of exhausting himself.
("If this were an enforcer under my command, I would have reprimanded him immediately," ) Kori thought.
"But Gramm..."
As he reflected, a memory resurfaced.
"An old rumor comes back to me.
They said he was a prodigy seen only once every thousand years but also a combat addict, a true junkie. Could that be the key?"
"What if this entire examination was nothing more than a pretext to allow him to face an opponent worthy of him?"
Kori shivered, letting his imagination wander.
("No... that seems too extreme, even for him. As Director, he can’t act that way... can he?")
A disturbing thought crept into his mind.
If he was right... then Gramm was simply insane.
---
Returning to the heart of the action, Helion felt a growing ambiguity gnaw at him.
His plan seemed to be working: he was holding his own against Gramm.
So why this sense of unease? As if, rather than leading the dance, he were nothing more than a puppet with strings being pulled.
The uncertainty gnawed at him until he decided to test his intuition.
Subtly, almost imperceptibly, he began to reduce his intensity to slow his attacks slightly, to deliberately leave openings in his guard.
He expected to be immediately overwhelmed, for Gramm to exploit those gaps and seize a decisive advantage.
Nothing happened.
The duel continued at the same pace, as if Gramm had recalibrated himself instantly to match Helion’s new level.
("He’s adapting to my level?! Impossible!")
The revelation struck Helion with such violence that he froze in place, interrupting his assault.
Gramm did not press the advantage, merely fixing him with an enigmatic calm.
Helion then understood the bitter, humiliating truth.
He was not a rival, but a toy. A training partner not a real threat.
At that moment, a primitive, black, absolute rage overwhelmed Helion.
This was no mere provocation; it was an insult to his entire species, a spit upon the sacrifice of his mother and all his people.
A hoarse, paranoid laugh escaped his lips.
"Heh, heh, heh... So it’s true. You humans, when you crush an insect, you don’t use all your strength. After all, in your eyes, an insect isn’t worth more than a glance."
Gramm did not deign to reply, maintaining his silent stillness.
That confirmed Helion’s worst fears.
("He can afford this because he believes himself invincible. He doesn’t need superior techniques to defeat me.")
("Very well. If I want to force him to take me seriously, I have only one option: become so powerful that arrogance itself becomes impossible.")
His determination crystallized in a flash of blood-soaked resolve.
Helion raised an arm toward the sky, palm open as if to grasp the firmament.
His voice rang out, chanting a baleful command.
"Submit you into the hollow of my hand!"
