The Sixth School Book II Ch. 022

Author's note.

1). Remember, your help in pointing out errors will help keep me from having to take long periods off to edit. Your help in this is much appreciated.

2). Feedback from my readers is my fuel to keep writing. If you enjoy my work, please take the time to let me know in the comments. It does wonders for my motivation to write.

3). If you read the chapter, please take the time to rate it. It's just a few clicks of the screen.

***

All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

***

Chapter Twenty Two: Come Aboard... and die!

Two months prior...

What is willpower?

Was it rigidness? Unwillingness to bend or break no matter what force one came up against? Was it adaptability? The ability to change to best fit the new circumstances one finds themselves in? Was it relentlessness? The pursuit of a certain goal regardless of what tried to bar your way or keep you from your goal? Was it endurance? Was it a measure of how many slings and arrows one can take? A measure of how much weight one can bear up under before they crumble? Was it changelessness? The refusal to change who you are regardless of one's circumstances, good or bad. Or maybe it was a measure of one's ability to exert their desires on the world around them? After all, what good is willpower if it does nothing tangible in the real world?

All these were questions that Greg had asked himself over and over again those first few days as he was destroyed over and over again. When Morpheus had told him that he would die ten thousand times, he had thought it hyperbole. An attempt by the deity to illustrate just how long and hard the path before him would be. He, however, was very quickly disabused of that notion when he died a hundred times that first day. The only reason Morpheus had him stop was because the stasis formation had been slowly growing dimmer every time Greg was brought back. They'd been forced to take a break to allow the formation to accumulate mana once more. Greg had expected that it'd take at least a month for the formation to fill up. But just because it had taken him months to come back to the formation the first time he'd used it, didn't mean that it had needed all that time to accumulate mana. Just three days later, the lines of the formation all across the room were glowing brightly and Greg was once again being ground down into nothing by a force far larger than himself.

Greg couldn't tell when it happened, but one by one, the questions eventually faded. After a hundred deaths, one had questions. After two hundred, one had theories. By four hundred deaths, one had frustrations. By the seven hundredth destruction, only spiteful stubbornness remained. By the thousandth death, even that was wiped away. All too quickly, it became clear to him that answering a philosophical question didn't somehow translate into having the willpower he so coveted. Death after death after death stripped him of any pretensions. Trying to cling to his sense of self felt like standing on the shore with your hands out hoping to stop a tsunami. Over and over again, the tsunami crushed into him and left him little more than a smear on the beach...

***

As a body-enhancing mage, it wasn't just the strength and toughness of her body that Calyn improved as she rose through the tiers. While they weren't anywhere near as sensitive as those body enhancers that focused primarily on their senses, her senses were sharp enough that she could easily see and hear all the carnage and mayhem that was taking place across the various pirate airships. Armed with just a pair of curved daggers, Olivia's clones were reaping lives left and right. Calyn had watched Olivia beat Roka black and blue several times over and had always been in awe of her battle instinct. Roka was stronger than the woman and while not faster than her, he wasn't by any means slow. Despite her speed advantage, Olivia had never relied on this as her means of fighting her master. Instead, it was her almost clairvoyant sense for battle that allowed her to always stay one step ahead of her opponent. She wasn't just responding to and countering the moves you made in the present, but also the ones you'd be making two, three, or even ten seconds from now.

To be able to so perfectly predict the moves of one person, was an exciting display of skill that left one in awe at such mastery. To watch someone do the same thing to a whole battlefield, however, left one with a chilly feeling. Calyn couldn't help the cold feeling in her stomach as she watched Olivia not only make the pirates fight her but actually dance to her tune. Every step, pivot, attack, evasion, withdrawal... it was all like a well-choreographed performance, except only one person was aware of the dance. Calyn was tempted to liken them to flies caught in a web, but at the very least, the flies knew and could see what they were struggling against. In the brutal massacre that she was watching, the combatants weren't even aware that their fate had been sealed and that they were only running headlong to their demise.

Just as had been the case with Roka, it wasn't that she was making moves too quickly for her attackers to keep up with her. Rather it was as if she was always a step ahead of her attackers. All kinds of attacks were sent her way, but all they seemed to catch was her shadow. A pirate would swing a blade at her head hoping to split it open, only to find an ally had stepped where the clone was supposed to be. Another would raise their leg hoping to plant their heel in her sternum and send her flying, only to find themselves kicking away an attacker that had been coming at the clone from behind. One of the pirates was even bold enough to shoot a cone of flames at Olivia's clone from point-blank range. Ten pirates were engulfed in flames by the time the fire mage realized that his target wasn't among those burning. Less than a second later, a blade glided across his neck cutting through almost three-quarters of his neck causing him to bleed out and die faster than the ones he'd set alight.

It didn't immediately click at first. The more she watched the fight, however, the more it sunk in Calyn's mind why, rather than exciting, she found the slaughter of the pirates chilling. It wasn't out of some sense of morality or horror at the fact that almost a hundred lives had been lost just within the first minute of the fight. Calyn would have killed every single one of them just as ruthlessly if she could. No, the true source of the icy feeling in her stomach as she watched more lives be reaped was the fact that she couldn't find any fault with the actions of the pirates! As someone who had been trained in combat almost from the time that she could stand on her two feet, Calyn knew enough to be able to follow the flow of battle and even predict a step or two ahead. Whatever else one could say about the pirates, that they were unfamiliar with combat was not one of those things. Some of them moved with such deadly grace that Calyn could tell that she would have struggled against them. When they attacked, Calyn's sense for battle couldn't help but agree with them that this was the right move to make in this context. And yet time after time, the moves that she had been certain were the right ones to make only met air, and the ones making them were dispatched like they were no more than children playing at being warriors. In other words, Calyn was, over and over again, seeing all the ways she would have died had she been on one of those airships attacking one of Olivia's clones.

"You... You are lying!" The words tumbled out of Calyn's lips as she vaguely comprehended something. Her vantage point on the deck of their airship allowed her to only catch a hint of what it was she was seeing and how the pirates seemed to be fighting among themselves just as much a they were fighting Olivia's clones. What was true was false and what was false was true. Olivia wasn't telling a lie with her mouth, but rather, her whole being. Everything about the clone you were fighting would tell you that she was about to attack on her left side. Everything from her eyes, her posture, the way her feet were planted, to even the strained tension in her muscles that seemed like a trap about to snap. Even the anger in her eyes as she turned to the one-eyed scoundrel that had lobbed a throwing dagger at her head only to narrowly miss told you that she was about to seek retribution on her left side. It was a deception so complete that rather than be confused when she turned right and moved in that direction, your mind simply failed to register it, fully convinced that she had moved left like she was supposed to.

Olivia had an extraordinary sense for battle that allowed her to exhibit an almost oracular ability to predict your next move even before you thought to make it. However, even more terrifying than her ability to stay two steps ahead of the battle, was her ability to render useless her opponent's sense for battle. In the heat of battle, there was no time to think. No time to come up with clever moves to dazzle your foe with. In a true life-and-death battle where one wrong move could mean your demise, you only had the instincts that you had honed for battle. And yet, in her wake, Olivia's clones were leaving corpses of those who had trusted their instincts. It was one thing to hide your next move from someone's sense for battle. It was another thing entirely to take someone's battle sense and use it to kill them.

The worst part was that, even with the fragmentary insight into what the woman was doing, Calyn still couldn't break through the deception. It was a lot like knowing you had been told a lie and yet, not being able to tell what exactly was the lie. Calyn tried to watch the clones with zero expectations, hoping to at least be able to follow the clones. Every time she thought she had a lock on any of them, however, she found herself looking in the completely wrong place. It's only when the pirates that had been similarly deceived were killed that she realized that she'd been had once more. The clone of Olivia who was still on their airship studying the battle, turned to Calyn at her unconscious proclamation. A small smile of approval crossed her lips before she quietly turned back to the fight.

Unable to bear looking at her death played over and over again across the different airships, Calyn spoke. "Won't they run away if you kill too many of them?" She questioned. It was only after the question was verbalized that Calyn realized just how deeply she had been affected by Olivia's display. Rather than thinking about the airships as belonging to the pirates, she'd started thinking of them as their own. Despite their numbers, many of the pirates were only at the first or second tier, fighting against Olivia, someone who could hold her own against Roka, a third-tier body-enhancing mage. To call it a mass slaughter didn't even begin to do justice to the carnage she was watching.

"Quite the contrary," Olivia answered. "I may only be killing the chaff first, but they are still essential crew for the sailing of an airship. Third and fourth-tier mages are powerful, but, unless they have as many hive scrolls as I do, they are rapidly becoming dangerously under-crewed. Powerful as the remaining fighters may be, they can't fill all the roles that the ones dying used to occupy. The more I kill, the more they are left with no option other than to take this airship and force its passengers to serve as slaves on their airships," she declared.

Calyn's eyes went wide as she looked at the fight with new eyes. She'd thought that Olivia was going for the weaker combatants because they posed little danger to her. In reality, however, she was crippling the operation of each ship, ensuring that they couldn't tuck tail and run. Almost fifty pirates had died to each of her clones leading to a staggering death toll of over seven hundred pirates not counting the vanguard force that had been sent to try and test their defenses. With each airship having about three hundred or fewer pirates, Olivia had singlehandedly wiped out a third of the pirate force after them. The only way what remained of the pirates could make a run for it would be to ditch two or three of the airships before using the rest to get away as fast as possible. Not that Calyn was holding out any kind of hope that the pirates would just turn around and run. For better or worse, they were now on a path with no return. Either they eliminated the pirates or they were enslaved.

Still, despite how deadly her clones were, on every ship, this was a fight of two against hundreds some of whom were at the third tier. Eventually, one by one, they started to fall. One of the clones was hit by a curse causing her to pause in place for a second too long allowing herself to be decapitated. Of course, her partner capitalized on the focus on the frozen one to reap a few more lives. Eventually, however, she too was overwhelmed and fell. On another boat, there was a bloodline mage with a breath attack that he kept hidden till the last moment. The clone's face was burnt off by the potent acid in the pirate's breath. Unfortunately for him, clones don't feel any pain or desire to survive. Rather than reel back, the clone drove a dagger into the man's chin right up into his brain! The damage, however, was already done. Blinded by the attack the clone soon fell and soon thereafter, its partner. All across the different ships, deadly as the clones were, they eventually fell, one by one, one from a suicidal attack she hadn't expected. One had their skull split in two by an ax. Another was blown to bits in an attack that also killed the three pirates that had been attacking her at the time and so on.

****

A month earlier...

Morpheus had told Greg that the only way he would rise through the demi tier without getting stuck at the third rank was to find a new domain of desire that the law of desire didn't already cover. Most mages would have to do this blindly, groping through the dark trying to find an area that wasn't already captured by the law. Greg on the other hand, had a rare opportunity where he was regularly coming in contact with the law itself. Meaning that, if he could hold out long enough, Greg could map out the domain already covered by the law and from there try to find a direction to take it that was new. Greg wasn't sure when exactly it happened, but at some point, he stopped trying to glean as much as he could from the law of desire. Instead, his attention turned to himself.

Have your very being destroyed enough times and you stop thinking of yourself as a physical entity.

This was a thought that Greg had never anticipated having, but it perfectly encapsulated what he was experiencing. That's where he'd ended up after surpassing two thousand deaths. Rather than trying to fight the erosion of his existence by the law of Desire, Greg found himself wondering, what part of him lasted the longest. Not his physical body, but his mind. After all, while it was fast, it wasn't like his mind was vaporized in an instant. Usually, he had about two to three seconds of lucidity before he just fell apart. And while that might not seem like much, when it happens thousands of times, it becomes rather easy to go over every single moment to see what you lost first. What put up a fight but was eventually wiped away as well. And finally, what was the last thing left standing after all else was taken away?

Olivia had once spoken of people like onions. Pull back the layers and at the center, you won't find something physical, but instead something intangible that keeps them going. A faith, a philosophy, a hope, the fate of another person, a goal for themselves. It didn't have to be some grand thing, or even something that others find impressive, but for them, it's the thing that keeps them going. The thing that gives them the strength to keep forging ahead even when all else falls apart. For Greg, this ceased to be a metaphor and transformed into his new reality, at least for the next several months. And so he looked to see it. Even after everything was taken away, what did he cling on to right to the very end?

Freedom.

Greg had been expecting any number of things here. Given how much he cared for his family, a part of him had expected that they'd be what he clung to the most. But while he did cling to them more than most other things, they too were swept away by the unrelenting erosion of the law of desire. Some other, more cynical and less self-congratulatory part of him thought that it would be power. After coming from a world where there was no mana or magic like this one, Greg had been obsessed with gaining more and more of it. Whether it be the painful awakening method, lessons with his teacher, or training with Olivia, Greg had pushed himself right to the limit and over. Perhaps the thing that drove him was an insatiable desire for more power.

What he found, however, was both so unexpected and yet so true that Greg couldn't deny it. Ever since he'd been reborn in this world, Greg had been on someone's leash. He might not have seen or known of them from the start, but they'd always been there. The first he became aware of was Morpheus' mother. While she was the one who gave him this new chance at life, she had made it perfectly clear that he was essentially a slave being given room to grow first. One day, she would call, and he'd have to answer and do whatever she wanted him to do regardless of how he felt about it. In his conscious mind, Greg had made peace with this state of affairs, reasoning that it was a fair exchange for being given a second chance at life. At his very core, however, it seemed that he was still chaffing at the leash placed around his neck.

Next to follow was Olivia's true self. Unlike Morpheus' mother, the primordial had kept whatever plans she had for Greg close to the chest. But rather than make it any easier to bear, the fact that she didn't bother to clue him into what she had in mind only further galled Greg as it relayed that she didn't even consider him worthy of consulting on what she wanted from or to do with him. To her, he was just a cog in her plans that she expected to play its designated role and nothing more. Then, there was Morpheus, a fallen deity that for all intents and purposes, needed Greg just as much as Greg needed him. And yet, to the deity, Greg was little more than a tool, a means to an end, a way to regain what he had lost. Greg was under no delusions that they would become best of buds once he got a body back. Part of Greg even suspected that if Morpheus had any other options, the deity would probably have killed him already.

Finally, there was Fate. Like being struck by lightning from the clear blue sky, a force that was just like Olivia's true self had targeted him. The gods were fighting and it was the mortals that were suffering for it. Greg wasn't under any delusions that there was something specific about him that had attracted Fate's attention. More than likely, Fate had sensed the meddling of entities like Olivia's true self or Morpheus' mother. But because it had no hope of going up against such beings and succeeding, or at least coming out unscathed, it was picking on the weakest link, him.

With the first three, there was something they had given Greg. With Morpheus' mother, it was a second chance at life. With Olivia's true self, it was a system that allowed him a fast track to power with the majority of the resources he'd ever need easily accessible to him. And finally, with Morpheus, it was the protection and guidance he'd need to grow in power. Greg was not blind to how massive these gifts were. Most people would give almost anything for just one of them. Greg, however, was also keenly aware that there was zero choice in the matter. You either did what was expected of you or you died. That was the simple reality of the situation. All three might give lip service to the idea that this was a voluntary exchange between them, but when it comes right down to it, none of the three consider him an equal or anyone worth conferring with as far as what he thought about the whole situation. He was just a tool to be made use of. A well-sharpened tool, but just a tool nonetheless.

To every action in the universe, there is an equal and opposite reaction. The moment Greg realized that he was in a cage, and everything he was doing was just to break out of that cage, a tyrannical will was born within him. Fueled by the desire to buck the hold and control that others were trying to exert on him, Greg rebelled. He wasn't just a tool. He wasn't just a cog in someone else's plan, something to be oiled with a few gifts but not allowed to refuse the function that others had set for it. He wasn't just a target dummy for Fate to aim arrows at. They wanted him to bend. To break before their superior will. To lower his head simply because they were born at a higher life order tier than he was. They thought themselves inevitable, implacable, immovable, and eternal like the very laws that governed existence.

They were wrong!

***

Morpheus couldn't help but look at the boy with some surprise when he noticed that his destruction by the law of desire took half a second longer than it usually did...

***

Scar couldn't help but grind his teeth, his heart feeling like it would burst from anger as he surveyed the damage done by simple clones to his forces. On the large table before him, images from the different airship decks where the fights had taken place were showing, one after the other. Not only had his vanguard force been eliminated with almost laughable ease, but with just fourteen clones, close to if not over a third of his force had been decimated. The whole of the navigation floor was quiet as a grave, no one wishing to draw his attention in any way. Even his First mate, Bloodhound, was standing tensely ready to react if his anger boiled over and he sought to punish them for this outcome. But while he was almost shaking with wrath, Scar was no fool. The opening move from his enemy had probably cast a shadow in the hearts of his men. If he let his anger show, their spirit would be crushed. They'd only act to try and avoid his wrath, not to overcome the formidable enemy they'd encountered. That said, while he couldn't vent his anger just then, his captains and those serving under them would have a lot to answer for once this ordeal was over.

"Bloodhound," he called out. "Gather the other captains, you will all be leading the men from your respective airships in the next attack!" He spoke calmly.

Despite the almost neutral manner in which the words had been spoken, the man seemed to realize that any defiance or gainsaying at this stage would probably end with his head being separated from his shoulders. As such, the only question out of his mouth was, "killed or enslaved?"

Questions like that were why Scar suffered the man to be his first mate. Despite how tense the situation he found himself in, Bloodhound still had enough presence of mind to understand the nature of the blow they had been dealt. A third of their force may have been killed in the opening moves of this encounter but it was by no means the final tally of their dead. If the opening move by their target was a measure of how well defended the airship was, then he fully expected to lose half of his remaining forces. With that death toll, they simply wouldn't be able to operate all their airships plus this new massive one. Put simply, they'd need new workers to serve on the various airships.

"Give them one chance to serve. Slaughter anyone that refuses," he growled, letting his bloodlust permeate his voice. Needed as they were as slaves, Scar was already exercising a massive amount of restraint by not going out and personally attacking the airship, anyone who thought to defy him at this moment wasn't using their head and thus didn't need it. A grim nod was all that he got before the man turned around and started marching off to execute the order. The man had exhibited a solemn air in his presence, Scar, however, flexed his will and had the monitoring arrays bring up an image of the man as he moved through his airship barking orders. As Scar had suspected, a bloodthirsty smile had pasted itself on the man's lips. Usually, Scar would try to rein his first mate in, but today... today he was happy to let the sadistic bastard have his way.

***

It had been thirty minutes since the last of Olivia's clones had been killed. The seven pirate ships had been like beehives that someone had kicked. There was a buzz of activity on them as they prepared to launch an attack. On their deck, there was a tense unease as they all watched the preparations take place. At least, Calyn and the armored guards on the deck felt uneasy, the two monsters standing beside her were calmly chatting away as if nothing of any significance was taking place. When Alena's life-seek spell allowed them to wipe out the pirates' vanguard force in just two volleys, everyone looked at the healer with respect in their gazes, as they recognized her magical prowess. After Olivia's clones had gone on the offensive and claimed almost a thousand lives, however, Calyn could see the fear in the gazes of the armored guards whenever they glanced in Olivia's direction. After the display they'd just watched, there was zero doubt in any of them that Roka's guard could kill them at any time if she so wished. What was even worse was the knowledge that not even numbers would save them! A few clones had been sent out and almost a thousand lives had been reaped. The single clone calmly standing on deck with them, was probably enough to kill everyone present by herself!

Calyn couldn't help but feel like an imposter standing next to the two women. Both of them had meaningfully contributed to the defense of the airship. Other than putting on armor, however, Calyn hadn't done anything other than spectate. If she wasn't the scion of a powerful clan and thus trained in never showing weakness, Calyn didn't think she would have been able to keep from retreating in shame. As things stood, however, she stood ramrod straight, her expression neutral as she quietly listened to the other two as she tried to project to everyone that she belonged.

"Seven fourth-tier mages and around fifty third-tier mages from what I can see," Healer Alena, who was supposed to only be at the second tier, commented with complete equanimity as if she was counting cattle and not mages more powerful than herself. "The others are a mix of the first and second-tier mages your clones couldn't get to," she stated.

"We'll leave those for Calyn to deal with. You deal with the third-tier mages and leave the fourth-tier mages to me," Olivia answered, just as calmly.

Calyn was conflicted. On the one hand, the comment by Olivia was a clear indication that they didn't look down on her. By the same token, however, weren't they expecting a little too much from her? It had taken fourteen of Olivia's clones to wipe out a third of the pirate force. Some of those that remained would have to remain on their ships to keep them in the sky. But even if half chose to stay on their airships, Calyn would be fighting alone a force equal to the one Olivia had fielded fourteen of her clones to fight. At the same time, however, Calyn couldn't bring herself to object. To begin with, she had been projecting an image of competence. If she turned around and started complaining that they were expecting too much of her, wouldn't she be wrecking her image in the eyes of all those present? Calyn was perfectly aware that it was stupid to let her ego drive her decision-making in such a situation. But in the presence of these two monstrous women, she couldn't help but want to measure up.

However, it wasn't like they had picked easier targets for themselves. This more than her ego, was the primary reason she found it hard to raise any objections. Given the option, Calyn would choose to fight a hundred second-tier mages over ten third-tier mages every time. With the first, her chances of survival weren't great, but still existed. In the latter case, her death was all but certain. Healer Alena had just been tasked with facing off against almost seventy third-tier mages, and as if that wasn't bad enough, Olivia had elected to take on seven fourth-tier mages by herself! If she complained about having to fight first and second-tier mages then she might as well have taken Olivia up on her offer to have her withdraw back to her room.

But, just as she had been steeling herself for what was to come, Olivia turned to her and nodded toward the guards. "You'll be fighting with them. Your task is to ensure that the first and second tiers can't get a cheap shot in while our backs are turned," she instructed. Calyn had to control her features to not let any of her surprise and slight embarrassment show. It spoke to how big an impression the two women had left on her that she hadn't even considered that there were other guards aboard the airship meant to fight and protect it. Part of her hated the fact that she needed the support of others when the two women didn't. That part, however, was overshadowed by the more rational side of her that realized that she was still nowhere near as monstrous as the two.

"Ready yourselves," Healer Alena called out, her gaze fixed on a lone figure that was now crossing the distance between their airship and the fleet coming after them.

There was a sneering look on the man's face as if he looked down on everything in existence. Lightning crackled all around him, sparking from one part of his body and disappearing into other parts. Given the distance between them, Calyn couldn't exactly sense what tier he was. However, the complete confidence he exuded despite approaching by himself, inclined her to believe that this was one of the fourth-tier mages Healer Alena had picked up on. The man came to a stop in midair fifty feet from the airship, well within the range of their ship's defenses. One who wasn't familiar with lightning mages might be tempted to think him either foolish or daring, but Calyn knew different. Close as he was, the man could be back on his airship in the blink of an eye. This was probably why Olivia spoke into a crystal instructing the captain not to attack. Of course, given his speed, the pirate could just as easily cross the distance between them and attack those on the deck. Looking at Olivia, however, she didn't seem the least concerned about this possibility. Although she was only at the second tier, Olivia's confidence in the face of this fourth-tier pirate, bolstered Calyn's confidence.

"One chance," the man spoke in a gravelly tone, his voice amplified so that even those below deck could easily hear him. "One chance at clemency is all you will get. Lower your weapons and surrender and on the honor of the great pirate captain Glorun, none of you will come to any harm! Refuse his offer and I promise, none of you will be left standing!" He growled.

There was a brief silence following the man's threats before a smiling Olivia walked forward and spoke. "Three," she spoke, her voice projected even louder than that of the lightning pirate so that even those on the pirate ships could hear her. "If what remains of you mongrels squeeze into three ships, and turn around to leave, then I promise to let you keep your miserable lives. Otherwise, you are more than welcome to come aboard... and die!" She replied.

As soon as the pirate had made his offer, Calyn had been on edge, knowing that there was zero chance that Olivia would ever surrender to their attackers. That sense of danger had only climbed when Olivia called them mongrels. With someone as haughty as the lightning-element pirate, such an insult was probably enough to forfeit one's life. When Olivia asked them to leave behind four of the seven ships they'd come up with, Calyn immediately knew that the fourth-tier pirate would attack. To have someone who was ostensibly in the second tier, not only insult but go on to threaten you and do nothing about it would have lost the man face before his men. That's why, there was no shock on Calyn's part when, with a clap of thunder, the man disappeared from where he'd been and reappeared on the deck with his hand having gone through Olivia's chest!

A cruel smile played on the man's lips, even as he watched Olivia's body twitch violently from the lightning coursing through her body. His bloody hand was still sticking out behind Olivia's back, his cold eyes looking at her like she was some speared fish even as he mockingly spoke. "I am aboard your ship, aren't I? Why don't you kill me? He dared.

"Gladly," came Olivia's calm voice.

***

Hope you enjoyed the Chapter. If you did, please consider supporting my work. And don't forget to favorite, vote, and comment.