A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 57: Royal Guards.

Jian Yue drew his blade, facing Uro, who was barehanded. For now. However, Zhuo stood beside Jian Yue, his eyes locked on Mi Shon.

Jian Yue glanced at Zhuo and whispered, ”Don’t try to push your limit.”

Zhuo nodded.

Uro and Jian Yue stepped forward. Their expressions were serious; finally, Uro put his right hand on his shoulder. His skin split, his hand pulling out a long bone. It didn’t hurt him. A few drops of blood fell on the ground before it quickly vanished on the floor.

The bone in Uro’s hand twisted, sharpening into a jagged blade. He lunged forward, the sharp edge of bone aimed to slice the neck.

The Yan Gu blade clashed against the bone sword, sending sparks across the stone. Jian Yue blocked the hit while trying to push it back. Uro’s strength was immense. Jian Yue’s boots scraped backward, carving grooves into the ground.

”That’s it?” Uro’s voice was a rasp. ”I expected more from a Warden.”

Jian Yue said nothing. He pushed back harder, twisting his blade to redirect Uro’s momentum. Uro pulled his body back, avoiding the strike. The bone sword sliced past his shoulder, missing by a breath.

”A war is not just a game of life.” Jian Yue whispered.

Uro quickly closed the distance and swung the sharp bone. Jian Yue’s blade caught Uro’s bone-sword. The impact shuddered through their arms.

Clang!

Jian Yue pushed his sword and slashed it vertically. Uro pulled his hand back, strings forming in his fingertips. From behind him the puppet came, holding a sword. Jian Yue jumped sideways and put his hand on the ground. With a solid thrust, he kicked the puppet’s back, throwing it toward Uro.

The royal guard threw his hand upward. The puppet changed its direction, then other puppets came. Five of them. They circled Jian Yue and lunged toward him. Uro jumped forward with relentless strikes. The bone-sword came down again; Jian Yue paused. He was cornered by the puppets.

He raised his blade. ”Interval.”

The puppets touched his blade; the very next second, the world stilled. No sound followed. For two heartbeats, nothing could move, not even Uro, and not even the wind itself. Jian Yue stepped through the frozen world, his blade moving with clear precision. He severed the strings connecting the puppets to Uro’s fingers. One by one, the puppets crumpled. He jumped back and slashed off the flesh of puppets before they could even fall.

Then the stillness broke.

Jian Yue gasped, his chest seizing. Two seconds of Interval. His hand trembled on the blade. Uro, now freed from his puppets, stared at Jian Yue with something close to respect.

”So that’s the Warden’s authority, the absense.” Uro said, his voice low. ”I’ve never fought one before.” He looked at his fingers. The strings didn’t form as if they had been deleted from the sound.

​Jian Yue straightened, but his chest tightened. The ’Interval’ always demanded a cost, and his heart was hammering against his ribs. It could beat twice, then ​Uro didn’t give him a third heartbeat to recover.

​”Incredible,” Uro grunted, but his eyes flashed with feral hunger. ”But until every one of you is dead, the battle is not over.”

​Without the puppet strings, Uro dropped into a low, predatory stance. He gripped the bone-sword with both hands, the calcified bone shifting in his hands. He lunged with a blinding speed—no grace, just raw, terrifying speed.

​Jian Yue brought the Yan Gu blade up just in time. The impact forced him to thrust into the tree behind him. He was forced down to one knee, the stone floor cracking beneath his boot. Uro leaned his entire weight into the press, the jagged bone teeth grinding against Yan Gu’s bone, showering sparks into Jian Yue’s face.

”Jian Yue!” Zhuo shouted, stepping forward, his hands instantly shooting out toward him, eyes glowing blue.

​But across the garden, Mi Shon shifted. A subtle, lethal movement that drew a line in the sand. ”Stay out of it, boy,” Mi Shon warned, the surrounding air turning cold.

Zhuo froze, caught between saving his ally and defending against a lethal counter-strike. Finally, he faced Mi Shon, his eyes squinting in focus.

​Back in the clash, Jian Yue’s vision blurred from the strain. He couldn’t overpower Uro. He ​let his wrist loosen; Jian Yue angled the Yan Gu blade at a sharp tilt. The symbol in the Yan Gu sword began to flicker. Uro’s heavy bone-sword slid harmlessly down the angled sword, burying itself inches deep into the stone floor.

A groan echoed from the Yan Gu blade, a silent, horrific screech of a monster. The symbol flickered further; a sharp bone came out of the Yan Gu blade with enormous speed. The blade pierced through Uro’s shoulder, who stumbled backward.

Jian Yue used the distraction and launched himself upward, driving a kick straight into Uro’s head. The crack echoed through the chamber. Uro stumbled sideways, blood spitting from his lips, but his grip on the bone-sword never wavered. With a brutal wrench, he tore the weapon free from the stone, swinging blindly in a wide, vicious arc meant to take Jian Yue’s legs out from under him.

Jian Yue’s blade came down with unbelievable precision. The sword hit the bone blade; he spun in the mid-air, balancing himself on the bone sword. With another kick onto Uro’s chest. He threw him away, but before Uro could hit the wall. His body turned into bones and came out of one of the puppets.

Uro clenched his head in distortion. ”You still can’t kill me.”

***

Zhuo lunged at Mi Shon. His blade cut through the air, aimed at Mi Shon’s throat. Mi Shon didn’t block. He twisted his body, the chain of bones wrapping around Zhuo’s sword. The links tightened, pulling Zhuo forward.

”You’re just a kid,” Mi Shon said, his voice calm. ”What are you doing in a war?”

Zhuo yanked his blade back. The chain held. ”War,” Zhuo repeated. His eyes flickered with blue light. ”That’s not made for a kid, but I’m here anyways.”

He released his blade. The chain’s grip loosened—and in that moment, Zhuo saw the motion lines. The path of the chain’s next attack. He grabbed the motion streak of the whip, pulling back the weapon.

Mi Shon’s eyes widened. The chain’s momentum turned against its wielder. Mi Shon stumbled forward, and Zhuo launched a fist toward Mi Shon’s jaw, throwing him backward. Zhuo’s hand pulled the streak of his own blade, then it returned back to him.

The chain was wrapped around Mi Shon’s own arm.

”For a child, I’ve underestimated you.” Mi Shon said.

Zhuo didn’t answer. His eyes flared blue. His hand was steady, holding the blade tightly.

”Flesh transposition.” Mi Shon whispered; the very next second, a dozen puppets appeared from the ground. He drove his blade through Mi Shon’s chest, only for him to disappear.

Zhuo looked around; his eyes already saw the movement before the skin of one puppet could split. He quickly rushed forward toward one of the puppets. The skin split open; Zhuo’s blade found Mi Shon’s chest before.

Mi Shon was half out of his puppet, his eyes widening in surprise. Blood dripped down from his chest. ”How did you...?” His chain fell.

Suddenly, the blood on the ground heated and turned into bloody spikes. All of them launched upward. Zhuo’s hand touched the motion streak and pulled it toward Mi Shon.

Mi Shon panicked, his calmness shattered. ”Flesh Transposition.”

But then.

Slash.

”What?” Mi Shon found his nose bleeding. He looked around. Mo Fei stood there, his Glaive already swung.

”You are not escaping.” Mo Fei said. His eyes glowed behind the mask; a strand of Mi Shon’s thread snapped. ”Zhuo, get him.”

Zhuo nodded; the speed of the bloody spikes increased toward Mi Shon, piercing through his body. He let out a sharp, unified gasp. His eyes began to get blurry. ”Grgh, damn you cowards.” Mi Shon’s body slumped. The blood fell on the ground, leaving him motionless. He was dead, or maybe just unconscious. They didn’t care enough to check.

Mo Fei pulled back his Glaive. ”You were the one who was running around like a bitch.” Mo Fei turned toward Jian Yue and Uro. ”I’ll help Riyoshi and Jim; I know you can manage it, Zhuo.”

Zhuo nodded and ran toward Jian Yue.

Mo Fei glanced at Alisa behind him. ”Let’s get to our work now.”

”You are really useful when it comes to survival.” Alisa stood up and walked beside him. ”But Lin is alone there. It should not have taken her so long.”

Mo Fei stopped upon hearing that. ”Should we go there?”

Alisa looked toward the palace. ”We need to end this fight first.”

Mo Fei narrowed his eyes. ”Divine Serpent. Tell me how long it’ll take for God to be born.” Behind his thought, the serpent hissed once.

”Eight minutes are left.”

”What about the Curator?”

The Serpent stopped; after a small break and said, ”There is no Curator around here. His spirit is concealed by something.”

”What do you mean? Isn’t He fighting Xue Lan and Yi Jyuhan?” Mo Fei’s eyes widened.

”Yes, but great master, there is no spirit.”

”Does that mean...” Mo Fei paused; something was wrong. If ’He’ wasn’t there, then how was He fighting them?