(Changed 20 knives to 21 in the prev chapter, because the author can't math)
— — — — — — —
In the instant before Dorian pulled on his soul to twist Fate, he checked on his status.
–
Dorian – Soul Status
Soul Stage: Lord Class (Middle)
Health: Perfect
Energy: 55,221/55,221
–
His maximum base Energy Level had reached a much higher level at 55,221 points thanks to his touching upon the Law of Wrath. He had jumped an enormous 15,000 points simply from that alone.
'If I use the Condense Ability, my strength will increase, but not at the same ratio.' A stray thought crossed his mind. His Condense Ability largely centered around his physique and physical might of each form. Him increasing his Energy Level through the Power of Law would boost that, but not by an equal amount.
'Still… my Perfect Body Ability is simply a better version of my Condense Ability. I think I'll shelve using Condense for combat.' While the Perfect Body Ability didn't change his Energy Level, it instead made whatever form he was using transform into a perfect version of that form, vastly increasing its base physical stats. It was impossible to use the Condense Ability simultaneously.
Dorian discarded these thoughts as he focused fully on using his will to twist Fate. Immediately, he felt a huge amount of energy leave his body, flooding out of him.
As the energy flooded out of his body, Dorian instinctively knew what was about to happen.
–
Dorian – Soul Status
Soul Stage: Lord Class (Middle)
Health: Perfect
Energy: 26,223/55,221
–
'Almost 30,000 points?!'
WHOOSH
The 20 knives he threw haphazardly into the air all soared out in front at varying angles, flying through the sky. They seemed to blast out randomly, thrown with enough force to blast outward at a very fast speed.
He couldn't use Magic for this, not that any of the Spells he knew would be much use. Dorian wasn't sure if an Ability would technically 'count' as Magic, but it was clear that the contest was assumed to be one of only martial skill, body control, and calculation.
Abilities originated from the Soul Spell Matrix of a creature and didn't require the same mental focus or concentration that Magic took. They still left noticeable trails of energy, however. It would be obvious to all that he had done at least something if he activated any of his Abilities. While the onlookers might not know exactly what, it would still be detectable.
A 'Great Lord' like Dorian was pretending to be would never stoop so low as to do something like that.
So Dorian went with his best plan. Simply twisting Fate with his special soul. Something that didn't leave an energy trail or signature, and was practically undetectable in most situations.
Aiden recovered from his shock enough to start laughing,
"Hahaha, well, I suppose that's a good way to give up if you aren't confident! One of those knives even went backwards!" Ridicule and mockery filled his words as he spoke, his eyes showing delight and arrogance in equal measure. One of the knives Dorian had haphazardly thrown had indeed skidded off at a bad angle, flung behind the ship.
Leader simply looked at Dorian briefly before turning his head to watch the knives, his faith in Dorian complete.
"Hmph. Just keep watching, foolish Dragon. The Great Lord's ways are simply beyond your understanding!" Leader crossed his arms as he came to Dorian's defense, his words showing not even a hint of doubt.
Aiden turned to look at Leader, smirking slightly.
"Really? Do you honestly think tha-"
TINK
Aiden froze as he heard a metallic clinking sound echo out behind him, from the front of the ship. He recovered from freezing after a second, his body blurring as he spun around.
Dorian's first knife had gone soaring forward at a fast speed. It had immediately slowed, however, as an unexpected updraft knocked into it, causing it to tumble slightly.
In the moment that its path shifted, the knife inexplicably collided with one of the fastest of the 20 knives Dorian had thrown, a metallic ring echoing out as it knocked the first knife forward.
"A lucky blow tha-" Aiden began and then cut off.
TINK
TINK
The redirected first knife, as it shot forward, miraculously collided with the next two knives of the many Dorian had thrown. Because of how Dorian had thrown the knives, all 20 at once, these two collided with the first knife at the same time.
This caused the knife to flip over, knocking up and backwards towards the ship.
"Hah! Look at it now, not a chan-" Aiden began a second time and then cut himself off again.
TINK
TINK
TINK
TINK
TINK
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A network of five of the mid-speed knives all collided with the first knife as it ricocheted around in the air, all in the span of a single second. Each time it collided with one knife, its new trajectory was perfectly positioned to have it collide with another.
Finally, after it hit all five knives, it was knocked back forward once more.
TINK
TINK
Two more knives, somehow, knocked into its back, sending it soaring. By now, all the fast knives had been spent and fell away, leaving only several knives Dorian had tossed higher than the others.
The first knife wobbled through the air, its trajectory shivering as it cut in front of the ship and then, with a thud, slammed into one of the floating islands that was just off to the side, out in front of them.
THUNK
The blade vibrated as it stuck into the floating island, several hundred meters away, the force of Dorian's throw carrying it far.
The Golden Flame Dragon had remained silent throughout the multiple ricochets, his eyes turning bloodshot as he watched the impossible paths collide, over and over and over.
He looked intensely at the first knife that had sunk firmly into the ground of the floating island.
He waited for a second.
Nothing happened.
He mentally counted up all the knife impacts, reaching a total of 10, just 1 shy of his own score.
The ship sailed forward fast, quickly gaining on the island as they approached it.
Aiden turned with a satisfied smile on his face, subtly wiping away a sheen of sweat that had appeared on his forehead.
"Hahaha, well, I must admit, you have some level of skill, but it seems your luck has run out today with only 10 kni-"
TINKTINKTINKTINKTINKTINKTINKTINKTINK
A deluge of metallic echoes rang out as 9 of the knives Dorian had thrown forward haphazardly all slammed down into the first knife. Each of those 9 knives had been part of the group that was thrown upward. This meant that they covered a bit more ground than the fast knives, but took longer, and there was a bit of a delay before they came down.
Just enough for them to perfectly slam into the first knife that had landed on the floating island. The impact dislodged the first knife, smashing it against the edge of the floating island and then tumbling it back into the air, right in front of their skyship.
Everyone on deck watched it move, their eyes wide. Dorian coughed as he realized he was staring in awe too, quickly donning a look of cool assuredness, as if nothing could go wrong.
Aiden held his hands out as if to say he couldn't accept the result.
"19 impacts?… All at once? All planned?" He muttered aloud, his face scrunched up in disbelief, his Draconic dignity nowhere to be seen.
"No, not 19." Dorian interrupted Aiden's musings as he stepped forward to the very edge of the ship. He was filled with an incredible sense of surety, as if he knew exactly what was about to happen.
Dorian turned away from the ship edge, putting his back to it and the knife as he looked at Aiden, a small smile on his face.
TINK
One last metallic echo rang out as the knife that had been thrown backwards somehow, impossibly, managed to soar forwards, flung under the ship and through the air on a billowing updraft.
The knife managed to slide all the way under the ship and just barely slammed into the first knife Dorian had thrown, altering its trajectory one last time.
WHOOSH
THUNK
A thump rang out as the first knife slammed down onto the deck, just a single meter in front of the Golden Flame Dragon.
"20." Dorian felt like an anime character as he looked at the results of his twisting Fate, having made everything go perfectly.
Aiden looked at the knife right in front of him.
He then looked back up at Dorian.
Then back at the knife.
Then back at Dorian.
A brief, silent pause ensued, one that was promptly interrupted by a certain gleeful practitioner of Pride.
"Hahaha! What did I tell you, foolish drake! Daring to doubt my Great Lord is like asking to be defeated! He is far, far above both you and I!" Leader cheerily broke in as he ridiculed Aiden.
The Golden Flame Dragon simply turned and stared at Dorian, eye to eye. The air around them carried a certain tension, full of energy. Dorian maintained eye contact, refusing to back down.
Aiden then nodded his head slightly, and without saying a word, turned and picked up the knife that was on the ground. He snapped his fingers. Instantly, the other knives all reappeared magically and then vanished right after.
"My apologies." Aiden spoke for the first time since seeing Dorian's success, his voice carrying a hint of awe and respect. He then gave a very slight, almost imperceptible bow, and turned away, immediately heading below deck without another word.
"Hahahaha, yes, yes, flee you mangy brown-scaled mutt!" Leader was remorseless in his celebration, reduced almost to a child as his pride briefly took over.
"Hmph." Mira snorted, turning away and walking after Aiden. She gave Dorian a careful nod too, however, her eyes full of a newfound respect that hadn't been there before, even when she found out he was an ostensible inheritor of her grandmother.
"Uh, ahem." Leader regained his composure almost instantly, returning to the stately and calm huntsman, cool and silent.
"My apologies too, Great Lord." His face flushed slightly red as he spoke.
"It's fine." Dorian waved him off, the feeling of relief at managing to escape with a win almost overpowering him. He took a slow, deep breath, and then smiled.
"I'm heading back to meditate. Come find me when we are about to land." He rubbed at his eyes for a moment, the fatigue from using so much energy all at once hitting him.
He needed to rest and prepare.
They would be on Magmor in mere hours.
.
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