Chapter 268: Fallen Netheryte

Surprisingly, the death of a Rank Two Netheryte did not cause the sort of commotion that would ordinarily accompany such an extraordinary achievement.

There were no triumphant cheers, no expressions of incredulity, and certainly no one rushing to congratulate Aureleah for delivering the decisive blows that had brought the creature’s life to an end.

Even the silver-haired Assassin, who had played the principal role in the Ratchyr’s death, remained calm and collected, as though she had merely completed an ordinary task that had required little more than a few precise movements of her Daggers.

Her expression betrayed neither excitement nor pride. Her heart remained cool and still, like a secluded lake whose tranquil surface refused to yield even the slightest ripple despite the wind stirring the surrounding trees.

She merely withdrew her bloodied Daggers, surveyed the fallen Ratchyr for a brief moment, and then turned her attention towards the ongoing battle, already preparing herself for whatever came next.

To Aureleah, there was little point in celebrating an accomplishment while the danger that had necessitated it remained very much alive.

After all, one dead enemy did not make a battlefield safe, particularly when two more creatures of the same rank were still lurking nearby.

In truth, had another practitioner achieved such a feat under different circumstances, the reaction would have been considerably more dramatic.

The news of an Etheryean defeating an opponent from an entire realm above their own would have spread far and wide, earning the victor widespread acclaim and perhaps even attracting the attention of powerful factions.

Such an individual would likely have been hailed as a once-in-a-century genius, or perhaps even someone whose talent emerged only once every several centuries.

After all, crossing the boundaries between realms was no trivial matter.

The disparity between two practitioners of different ranks was not merely a difference in physical strength. It encompassed the refinement of their bodies, the depth and quality of their Aether, their command over their abilities, and the many advantages accumulated through advancement.

Even a relatively modest difference between realms could prove insurmountable when the combatants were otherwise evenly matched. In the face of such a disparity, possessing courage and determination was rarely enough to guarantee survival, let alone victory.

Yet Aureleah had just helped bring down a Rank Two Netheryte while still a Rank One Etheryean.

And nobody seemed particularly impressed.

The reason was simple: this was hardly the first time the group had accomplished something that would have left ordinary practitioners gaping in disbelief.

The Nether Lands demanded extraordinary resilience, the sort that compelled those who wished to survive to surpass their previous limits or perish beneath the weight of their inadequacies.

Its dangers did not conveniently arrange themselves according to a practitioner’s cultivation, nor did its denizens show the slightest consideration for someone who had not yet reached a suitable realm. Here, weakness was an invitation to disaster, and hesitation could prove more expensive than a mistake.

Consequently, the group had been forced to accomplish feats that would have seemed absurd under ordinary circumstances.

Even when they had been mere Awakeners, they had faced, fought, and killed Rank One Animas without having awakened their Essence Runes. Those victories had hardly been effortless.

They had required careful coordination, desperate improvisation, and more than a little willingness to gamble with their lives. Nevertheless, they had survived encounters that should have overwhelmed practitioners of their former standing.

When they eventually awakened their Essence Runes and became Etheryeans, their battles did not suddenly become effortless affairs.

Their newfound abilities gave them more options, but the Nether Lands remained every bit as merciless as before. There were still moments when their plans faltered, when their opponents proved more troublesome than expected, and when the difference between victory and death rested upon a single decision.

Even so, killing Rank One Netherytes or Animas had gradually become an achievable undertaking rather than an improbable miracle.

Experience had a peculiar way of adjusting one’s understanding of the extraordinary. What once seemed impossible eventually became difficult, what had once seemed difficult became manageable, and what had once inspired astonishment was reduced to another problem demanding a solution.

The group had undergone precisely that transformation.

If they had been capable of fighting across realms as mere Awakeners, even if their victories had been narrow and hard-won, then why should they consider the same impossible now that they had become Rank One Etheryeans?

Their cultivation had improved, their Essence Runes had granted them additional means of combat, and their experiences had sharpened their instincts. They were no longer the inexperienced individuals who had first entered the Nether Lands, uncertain of what horrors awaited them beyond the Crimson Forest.

They had been tempered by adversity, and the results were becoming increasingly apparent.

Besides, the Rank Two Ratchyr they had just killed had not been nearly as dangerous as its rank and appearance might have suggested.

The creature had been formidable, certainly, but it had never enjoyed the opportunity to bring its full strength to bear. Its defeat had not been the result of a miraculous stroke of luck, nor had the group simply overwhelmed it through reckless aggression.

Rather, they had identified its vulnerabilities, exploited the brief openings available to them, and denied it the opportunity to recover.

Every successful strike had contributed to the next, until the creature’s defeat became less a matter of possibility and more a question of when it would finally succumb.

The first decisive advantage had come when Aelric caught the Ratchyr off guard.

The Rank Two creature had been preparing to attack Regaleon when the green-eyed youth intervened, kicking its snout with such casual efficiency that the beast was sent crashing into a cluster of lesser Ratchyrs.

The intervention had been brief, almost dismissive, yet its consequences had extended far beyond the immediate impact.

Aelric was an entire realm above the creature.

Although he had employed neither a particularly elaborate technique nor a lethal weapon, his baseline strength and overwhelming aura had been more than sufficient to suppress the Ratchyr momentarily.

The creature’s senses had been disrupted, its movements thrown out of rhythm, and its awareness dulled by the sudden encounter with an opponent whose presence it could scarcely afford to ignore.

The resulting impairment had been subtle but significant. The Ratchyr had struggled to regain its bearings, its reactions noticeably slower than they should have been, while its attention remained divided between recovering from Aelric’s intervention and assessing the threats surrounding it.

Against a weaker opponent, such a lapse might have amounted to little more than an inconvenience.

Against a coordinated group of Etheryeans determined to kill it, however, even a fraction of a second could become a death sentence.

Caelestra had recognized that opportunity almost immediately.

Drawing upon the instincts she had developed through repeated battles and hard-won survival, the silver-haired Merchant had identified the creature’s momentary vulnerability and attacked without hesitation.

Her coin struck its leg, inflicting damage that, while not immediately fatal, was sufficiently severe to compromise its mobility and make every subsequent movement more difficult.

It had been a calculated decision rather than an impulsive display of aggression. Caelestra understood that she did not need to overpower the Ratchyr outright. She merely needed to ensure that it could not recover quickly enough to turn the battle in its favour.

A merchant who insisted on acquiring everything at once was liable to leave the marketplace empty-handed.

Caelestra had long since learned that the same principle applied to combat: sometimes, the wisest investment was not a decisive blow, but the small disadvantage that made a decisive blow possible.

Unfortunately for the Ratchyr, the group had no intention of allowing it to reclaim the initiative.

Kaeloris followed up with his Law Script, employing Fatigue, Slow, and Freeze to interfere with the creature’s movements. Although the effects were diminished by the difference in their cultivation, they still imposed enough restraint to frustrate the Ratchyr’s attempts at recovery.

The failed Gnost could not completely immobilize an opponent from a higher realm, but he did not need to. Even a moment of hesitation could provide Aureleah with the opening she required.

And she had made excellent use of it.

The silver-haired Assassin had approached the encounter with the same chilling precision she brought to every assignment. While Kaeloris’s Laws hindered the Ratchyr and Caelestra’s attack compromised its mobility, Aureleah exploited the exposed portion of its forehead, repeatedly driving her Daggers into the vulnerable area until the creature could no longer resist.

There had been no unnecessary flourishes, no wasted movements, and certainly no indulgence in the sort of dramatic theatrics that some practitioners seemed to consider essential to a victory. Aureleah had simply identified the most efficient way to kill her opponent and carried it out.

More importantly, throughout the barrage of attacks, the group had denied the Ratchyr the opportunity to activate an Impulse or employ an Extremity.

That had been crucial.

The Ratchyrs’ incisors were capable of damaging Soul Essences that would otherwise provide formidable protection, while their Impulses could transform an already dangerous encounter into something considerably more troublesome.

Given sufficient time and freedom of movement, the Rank Two creature might have been able to unleash an ability that would have changed the entire course of the battle.

But it had never been granted that luxury.

Aelric had disrupted its initial attack. Caelestra had injured it. Kaeloris had restricted its movements. And more importantly, Aureleah had delivered the killing blows.

Each action had reinforced the others, creating a sequence from which the Ratchyr could find no satisfactory escape. Its superior rank had mattered little once its advantages had been systematically stripped away.

The group had not won because the disparity between realms was meaningless. They had won because, for a brief but decisive stretch of the battle, they had prevented their opponent from making proper use of that disparity.

It was a distinction that could easily be overlooked by those who preferred to attribute every improbable victory to talent alone.

In the Nether Lands, however, talent without judgment was merely another way to die.

Unfortunately, the battle had not ended with the first Ratchyr leader’s death...

The moment the creature’s body slumped to the flagstones, the other two leaders reacted with startling ferocity.

Both raised their heads towards the ceiling of the ruined temple and released a mournful shriek that reverberated through the fractured walls.

The sound was so piercing that it seemed to rattle the ancient stones themselves, echoing between the broken pillars and beneath the remnants of the vaulted ceiling.

It resembled the wail of a baleful ghost whose unjust execution had condemned it to wander the mortal world, except that the grief carried within the cry was accompanied by a rage that left little doubt about the fate intended for those responsible.

For a brief moment, even the lesser Ratchyrs appeared to respond to the sound. Their shrill cries rose above the din of battle, creating a dissonant chorus that filled the temple with renewed hostility.

The creatures’ black blood stained the flagstones, their bodies lay scattered among the rubble, and the metallic stench of the battlefield had grown so thick that it seemed to cling to the back of the throat.

Against that grim backdrop, the death of their leader had become more than the loss of a powerful member of the colony.

It was a provocation.

The two surviving Rank Two Ratchyrs lowered their heads, their crimson eyes burning with murderous intent as they fixed their gazes upon Aureleah and Kaeloris.

There was no mistaking the direction of their fury. One had been responsible for restraining their companion, while the other had delivered the final blows.

If the creatures possessed any capacity for rational thought beyond the instincts that governed their predatory nature, they had evidently concluded that those two were the most deserving targets of their vengeance.

Aureleah remained composed, her daggers held ready at her sides.

Kaeloris, by contrast, adjusted his spectacles with a finger while keeping his Scroll firmly in his other hand. The gesture was almost absurdly mundane given the circumstances, but the faint tension in his shoulders betrayed his awareness of the danger approaching them.

"How considerate," he muttered under his breath. "I was beginning to worry they might overlook us."

Aureleah offered no reply. Her attention remained fixed on the two creatures, measuring their movements and searching for the first indication of an attack.

The Ratchyrs did not keep them waiting.

With a powerful flap of their wings, both creatures launched themselves towards the pair, their bodies surging through the scarlet gloom with a speed that sent loose dust swirling across the flagstones.

This time, however, the two leaders had learned from the fate of their fallen companion.

Before committing themselves to the dive, both activated their Impulses. Nether energy surged around their bodies, and the oppressive presence accompanying their abilities spread through the immediate surroundings.

Their movements became more deliberate, their expressions sharpened with predatory focus, and their descent carried a renewed menace that had been absent from the previous attack.

They had no intention of repeating the same mistake. Unfortunately for them, they had yet to travel very far when their flight was suddenly cut short once more by Aelric...