Chapter 108: Conquest Instinct 2

*Elemental House of Wind… More precisely the Hall of the Main Manor*

Derecha Hinder, the head of the House of Wind and mother of Liam, stood near a table where tactical maps of the Magic Clan’s territory were spread out. Her dark green hair, streaked with a few gray strands, fell over her shoulders, while her steel-gray eyes observed Kellen’s silhouette.

The heir of the Spear Clan was seated, his face still pale from the aftereffects of his confrontation in the Catacombs.

“I had to consume a non-negligible quantity of resources and elixirs to stabilize your Chi meridians…” Derecha began.

“I don’t know what technique you used down there, but you shouldn’t employ it again if you don’t want to end up crippled.”

Kellen sighed slowly, lowering his eyes toward the bandaged spear. He ran a hand over his trembling forearm.

“I will take your advice into consideration…” he murmured in a dark tone.

Derecha crossed her arms over her chest.

“Liam is currently confronting Victoria near the border of the seventh district,” she continued. “It would be a matter of going to help him…. if possible, I would not like to have to intervene personally on the battlefield, that would give the other houses a perfect pretext to act. If the former heads get openly involved, this battle could completely escalate and slip out of our control.”

Kellen nodded, understanding the political logic behind these words. The Spear Clan and the House of Wind had to retain the initiative without forcing the leaders of the Sword Clan or the other houses to declare a total war.

“Are you going to their meeting?” Kellen asked, raising his eyes toward her.

“Obviously,” Derecha answered without hesitation. “I would like to apply pressure to legitimize our takeover of the domain of the House of Earth… But for my voice to carry weight, you and Liam must already master Victoria and quickly put an end to this battle.”

“Fine… I’ll try to make it quick,” Kellen declared as he straightened up with difficulty.

Derecha nodded with a satisfied air, then took a few steps toward the exit of the hall, her back turned to the heir of the Spear Clan.

“It would be a matter of not disappointing again… and that it be done properly this time.”

“What do you mean?”

“That famous Daemon, whom your father claimed you killed in the catacombs, is wandering all over the domain of Fire and causing trouble alongside the heir of the Sword Clan…”

“How… How is that possible!?” Kellen exclaimed.

“Killing him does not seem as easy as it appears… He is the son of Lancelot and that madwoman after all,” she concluded in a detached tone before leaving.

“That vermin…”

Kellen remained frozen for a few seconds. Then he seized the glass of water placed on the table and threw it violently.

“I ran you through the belly with the Spear of Destiny… but you still find a way to survive!?” Kellen roared through clenched teeth. “This time, I will find a way to cut off your head, even if I have to die trying!”

He advanced with a heavy step, seized the shaft of the bandaged spear and fixed it to his back with a furious gesture before leaving in turn.

“Fucking Daemon! I should have accepted Helmut’s proposal from the beginning…” he spat into the wind before launching himself at a gallop on his steed.

***

Faced with a Chi User of superior rank, every practitioner knows that he starts with an insurmountable disadvantage, all the more so when the person seeking to kill you has already reached the status of Master.

A user of the Third Sense normally had no chance against a Fourth Sense: not only were the opponent’s techniques of devastating raw power, but his Chi was quasi-unlimited thanks to the ability to absorb ambient energy continuously.

However, there existed one last factor capable of reversing the course of the confrontation… Experience.

The Seal of Conquest inscribed directly into Kristian’s body and mind the martial expertise, the muscle memory and the science of war accumulated by the former Horseman of Conquest over more than a century of bloody battles.

That was the reason why a practitioner of the Third Sense like Kal had been nothing more than a mere formality for him: Kristian already knew by heart the strengths, the weaknesses and every flaw of the style of the House of Fire. He knew exactly how to counter their movements, economize his gestures and guarantee victory without the slightest effort.

Kristian now possessed the tactical awareness of a centenarian veteran capable of dissecting any ancestral Sense.

But faced with a Master of the Fourth Sense like Tegan BlackFire, mere theoretical knowledge was no longer enough when human flesh could not follow the speed of execution.

So, even if Kristian had not yet fully mastered the totality of this cursed power, he let his mind abandon itself completely to the Seal.

‘If my body can’t keep up… then my instinct will ensure my victory!’

His bare torso revealed the fresh blackish scar caused by Tegan’s fist, but just above it, the tattoo of the Horseman of Conquest now shone with a pure and blinding white radiance.

The links of chains drawn on his skin seemed to twist, the crown of white thorns and the black sword radiating a wave of gravitational pressure that pushed back the incandescent smoke all around him.

Kristian no longer felt the slightest pain caused by his broken ribs or by his second-degree burns. The grip of the Conquest’s illness on his brain cancelled every sensation of physical weakness, leaving room only for an absolute, pure and terrifying need to subdue his opponent by force.

‘There is no gulf that I cannot conquer…’

Kristian crossed his two silver swords in front of his face. The blood running down his forearms descended to the guards, soaking the metal which began to vibrate at a high-pitched frequency.

“Shall we go together?” Daemon asked as he appeared at his side.

Without even turning his head toward him, Kristian simply nodded.

In the opinion of Lancelot’s son, Kristian had become truly strange.

His eyes no longer had pupils or irises, reduced to two orbs of immaculate white, while a dense white vapor escaped continuously from the pores of his skin to extinguish the embers that touched his clothes.

Moreover, that tattoo on his chest strangely reminded him of the thorn tattoo he himself wore on his left arm. But Daemon knew they did not have time to ask questions…

“You are both going to die, you little Sword Clan brats!” Tegan roared as he brought down his greatsword in a devastating diagonal blow.