Chapter 351: 351. Seeing Layers

Vines shot out of the whale’s body, piercing cracklings by the dozens. The flock had attempted to merge together, but seeing that their overall size was still insignificant compared to the whale itself, then burst back into individual members and scattered in all directions.

Dallion kept his guard up, but for the most part, he didn’t do a thing. As Vend had taught him, he maintained a few instances ready in case of emergency, but most of his thoughts dwelled on Vihrogon. The armadil shield had maintained his dryad appearance for the last half hour, but despite that hadn’t said a word.

“Will you be fine fighting the white dryad?” Dallion asked in his attempt to break the ice. “Want me to help?”

“Better not. You’ll only get hurt.”

Strangely enough, that didn’t sound like an insult, but rather a fear.

“Will you be able to handle her, though?”

“It’ll be the same as fighting myself. Ultimately, that’s why she was created back at the time.”

“She’s created?” Dallion was both impressed and confused. The white dryad didn’t seem like an echo. She had more health than one, that was for sure. “Who created her?”

“I did.” The dryad smiled. “She’s my memory given form.”

Arriving at the city, the vine whale descended until it was a few feet higher than the highest building. From this distance Dallion was able to see some of the creatures passing through. This wasn’t his goal, though—all he needed was to get close to the wooden structure that contained the hidden realm.

Once there, he jumped off. As he did, Lux emerged and quickly merged with his owner, giving Dallion wings. The armadil shield followed. Vines burst out from him instead of wings, cushioning his fall as he landed on the road in front of the library. The skills were just as terrifying as when it was used by opponents Dallion had seen in the past. For one, he was glad not being the one who had to face it.

“Good luck,” the vine whale said, slowly turning around. “I hope to see you once it’s over.”

“You will,” the armadil shield replied.

You’ve been quiet, Nil, Dallion said. Any thoughts on the matter?

This is an instance in which I’d leave reality to speak for itself, the echo replied. I had an inkling that he might be some sort of war hero, from the dryads’ point of view, but even after all our talks and discussions, I never suspected he might be a sword marshal.

I guess I attract weirdness.

Or vice versa. Remember, the aura sword was full of dryads from another world. It’s far more likely that they attracted you and Eury to it, possibly even the Star himself. From a very cosmic point of view, maybe that’s one of the reasons why otherworlders feel drawn to Nerosal.

That’s a bit of a stretch.

If it were this sword alone, maybe. But our good friend said that he wasn’t the only one who dumped this particular sword in the ruins nearby. There might be dozens other world swords hidden in the area, maybe even hundreds. Something to keep in mind.

Hundreds of swords… some of them could even have survivors inside. They wouldn’t be the dryads that originally were banished inside, of course, but some of their descendants could still be alive today. And, as Dallion had seen, there was a greater chance for an otherworlder to emerge in bloodlines of the same nature. Maybe when this was all over, he’d ask Jiron and Eury if they had come across any other swords of this sort.

“When the fight starts, don’t intervene,” Vihrogon said, as the two entered the wooden building.

“If that’s what you want.”

“You’d be helping me that way. I won’t be able to protect you, and at our speed I’m not sure you’d be able to protect yourself.”

“What about Lux? Can he help you?”

“I appreciate the gesture, but no. I have to win this the right way.”

The birch dryad was waiting for them when they arrived in the hidden realm. Seeing the armadil shield in his new form, clusters of eagerness and longing formed within her.

“You remembered,” she said. “I’m glad.”

“None of us can run away from our past.” Vihrogon made a sign to Dallion to stay back. “The boy will be here just as an observer. He won’t meddle in the fight.”

“I know. He’s chosen the way of the empath. Seems like he also knows what he is now.”

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“He barely has a clue, but he will. With my help.” Vihrogon drew his wooden rapier, then summoned a second one. Two swords—on the surface, it seemed he had focused his development on attack, just like Veil had. However, that wasn’t entirely the case. When the white rectangle appeared above him, Dallion could see ten skills. Four of them were the basic physical ones, but there also was carving, art, and four more dryad skills similar to those he had seen the guardians of this world have.

“Better move to a corner.” The birch dryad summoned her weapons—a wooden rapier and a sickle.

“I’d like to watch the fight,” Dallion said.

“If you wish. Just don’t move a lot. There will be no combat splitting in this fight. Things might become dangerous for you.”

“If I run from a battle that my gear initiates, how can I expect to fight my own? I’ll take care of myself.”

A faint smile appeared on Vihrogon’s face. Then, a split-second later, the fight began. There was no red rectangle to mark the start, instead both dryads disappeared in a blur of motion, clashing together in the middle of the room.

Keep one instance ready, Nil advised. Concentrate everything else on your perception.

Dallion followed the advice. Most of the actions remained too fast for him to see, but there were some that became clear as day. It was the clashes that remained clearest of all—that moment when the two faced off, each simultaneously blocking and being blocked by their opponent. Interestingly enough, the rapiers weren’t the weapon predominantly used. Rather, they were like a precision instrument, which was only utilized at key points of the battle, to take advantage of an opening. Most of the time it was vines that struck against each other. They twisted, entangling each other, sometimes transforming into shields to block torrents of sharpened roots, or they would spread along the floor and walls, aiming to strike from the other’s blind spot.

In his mind, Dallion tried to imagine how he’d react to any of these attacks. As hard as it was to admit, in the vast majority he’d resort to the help of Lux or the armadil shield. However, there were a few occasional instances in which thought he could evade the attack on his own, then strike back.

Baby steps, Dallion thought. Not too long ago, he wouldn’t have stood a chance against any of them.

The birch dryad slashed with her sickle at Vihrogon, following up with a multi-piercing attack with her rapier, while also directing two clusters of roots up from both walls at her opponent. Vihrogon didn’t flinch, choosing to take the hit of her roots, but also engage in dual multi-attack of his own. Rapier negated rapier; the second one, however, managed to pierce through her defenses slightly faster than the white dryad could form a shield in front of her. Red rectangles emerged on both sides. From what Dallion could see, both had suffered a series of moderate wounds. More interesting, however, both had ended up poisoned as a result of the attacks.

I haven’t seen that happen before, Dallion said to Nil.

That’s because it’s usually frowned upon, dear boy. And by frowned upon, I mean that the Moons don’t approve of poison skills being used against double digits. In the wilderness, however, everything goes. Even Gleam uses poison all the time.

She does?

What are illusions, but poisoning of the senses? Every aspect of you could be poisoned. It’s not just health. You could be made slower, paralyzed, blinded, and whatnot. All of those are a sort of poison, and like everything else, they have their antidote or could be evaded altogether.

Both dryads broke up, retreating to their parts of the room. Moments later, they charged forward again. Torrents of vines burst from the white dryad only to be met by as many roots coming from the armadil shield. A massive explosion of force followed, as leaves and root fragments filled the air like shrapnel.

Lux, Dallion thought, as he evaded as many projectiles as he could. Even so, a few hit him. The damage, thankfully, was a lot less than it could have been. Half a dozen red rectangles stacked in front of Dallion, amounting to a third of his health. The firebird would restore that in time, but the intensity of the attack remained outright scary, especially since Dallion wasn’t even the intended target.

The sight was awe-inspiring, but also terrifying. To have armies of dryads capable of such destruction, roam the world was enough to freeze the blood of every living being. They were the third—and at present last—race to try and conquer everything. Given their strength, they could have. The humans couldn’t have been a threat. The copyettes and nymphs had already been banished, which left the furies and the dwarves. Dallion had yet to see a dwarf, but he could imagine the furies withstand the dryad advancement. That must have been a conflict that shattered imagination.

I need to focus harder, Dallion thought, concentrating as hard as he could.

At first, nothing happened. The dryads became more and more blurry as they picked up speed in their fight. Pain started to build up in Dallion’s temples, like two coins slowly heating up. Ten seconds in, his entire head pounded at every heartbeat. Another five, and the coins had become scorching nails drilling into his skull. The pain reached Dallion’s tolerance threshold and went beyond. Clenching his fists, he stubbornly kept on concentrating as he stared forward. Then, suddenly, there was like a pop in his ears. The blurs gained form.

I see them, Dallion thought.

The birch dryad was flying through the air, spinning like a top as she sliced the cluster of roots that Vihrogon had launched her way. Less than a quarter of her health remained, though that didn’t make her any less dangerous.

Meanwhile, the armadil shield was using both rapiers to pierce the hundreds of leaves that were flying towards him like daggers. So many had stacked up that they covered half of his weapons, making them look like skewers. At one point, Vihrogon stopped and swung both rapiers in the direction of his opponent, launching all the gathered leaves at her. More red rectangles emerged.

Before Dallion could see more, events became blurry once again. The pain had proven stronger than his will, breaking his concentration and leaving him with a scorching headache the likes of which he hadn’t felt since his guild selection trial.

Don’t overdo it, Nil said.

I saw them, Dallion struggled to keep his eyes open as tears flowed down. I saw them fight.

And that’s a good thing, though not if you bring yourself to such a state. There will be other times. You’ll only get stronger from here on.

The echo kept on going on jumping between praise and criticism. Dallion undoubtedly deserved both, but for once the echo had missed the point. For the first time, Dallion had broken through his barrier without breaking through his barrier. Similar to combat splitting, he had finally achieved what Euryale had tried to teach him all those months ago—the ability to distinguish between layers. The process remained extremely painful and only lasted several seconds at best, but it was a start. From here all Dallion had to do was develop it further and then he’d be able not only to see the actions of those much faster than him but also use his armor effectively as a weapon, and most important of all, he’d be able to tackle sky silver forging.

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