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Chapter 164: Facing Lord Longsword
🕑 Added 2023-04-13 17:36:01 +0000 UTCJack, Nauja, Gan Salin, and Brock ran over the sand dunes, heading as far away from the village as possible. They thought they would be fast enough. Turns out, they weren’t.
Lord Longsword’s team was the first to crest the tall sand dune between the village and the desert, sprinting after them. Jack could see them clearly under the silver starlight. Longsword himself was at the front—or, at least, the person Jack assumed was Longsword—followed by the icy witch and the dickhead minotaur, Bocor.
Following them was a vast array of cultivators. In a brief glance, Jack spotted a blue-haired guy showered in lightning sparks, a lanky, pale-faced teenager riding a desert scaled lizard, a woman clad in a dark robe with a deep hood—
He turned back to the front. There were easily a dozen people there. No point observing them.
How the hell did Longsword move so fast? Jack wondered, gritting his teeth. If it was Rufus Emberheart in his place, he would lounge back and have an underling handle the chasing.
Turns out, not all young masters were similar.
“To be fair, you could have seen this coming,” Gan Salin added helpfully, running side by side with Jack. “That was their favorite tavern in the entire village.”
“It was the only tavern in the village.”
“Did I say otherwise?”
“Less talking, more running,” Nauja said, making Gan Salin turn to her.
“I’m Gan, by the way. Gan Salin. Though everyone calls me Salin recently. I don’t know why.”
“Nauja,” she replied. She glanced at his outstretched hand, hesitated slightly, then shook it quickly.
“Brock,” said Brock, eager to participate in the conversation.
“Do you think they’ll catch up?” Jack asked, still running. He braved another glance backward. Lord Longsword himself was far ahead of the pack, gaining on them every second.
“Absolutely,” Gan Salin replied. “I don’t even know why we keep running. Perhaps we should hide in the sand and pretend to be lizards—though, really, I’m a canine.”
Jack gritted his teeth. “What if I beat him off?”
“That’s Lord Longsword. You can’t even slow him down.” Gan Salin focused on speed, not endurance, which was one reason why he could speak so casually while running. The other was his certainty of getting caught.
“You don’t know how strong I’ve gotten.”
“I know how strong that guy is. There is no way you can fight him.”
“Oh yeah?” Jack struggled inwardly. “Watch me.”
“Don’t do this!” Nauja yelled at him.
“It’s a terrible idea,” Salin agreed.
“Bro,” said Brock, his intent indecipherable.
“What choice do I have? He’s almost here!”
Lord Longsword was gliding over the sand dunes, his feet blurring under him, each step carrying him a large distance forward. His tattered robes fluttered in the wind as his long dark hair was pulled back, revealing a sharp, clean-shaven, expressionless face.
No—was that a smirk of amusement?
There was no way they could escape. From everyone else, maybe, but not this guy. Jack made his decision. “I’ll hold him off. It’s me they’re after, anyway. You guys keep running.”
He stomped into the sand, arresting his momentum and turning around.
“Jack!” The sounds of feet dragging against the ground came from behind him, where his companions were running, but Jack couldn’t spare the attention. He just hoped they kept going.
Lord Longsword was almost upon them. Seeing Jack stop, the hint of smile on his face grew an inch. He landed in the sand fifty feet away from Jack, then dusted his robes. The nine-foot-long sheath trailed behind him, its tip almost grazing the desert’s surface.
From up close, Jack could take a better look. There was a sense of playful arrogance to this man. The underlying assumption that he was far better than everyone else, and that he viewed them as a grown-up would view a bunch of kids. In this arrogance, at least, he resembled Rufus.
Human (Earth-74), Level 122
Faction: Wide Swirls (B-Grade)
Title: Wide Swirls Prodigy
“I commend you for—” he began, but Jack had no time to waste. If he could defeat this guy fast enough, maybe he could outrun the other delvers. They were a few seconds behind.
He charged in. A purple meteor blazed on his fist, ready to explode on that playfully arrogant face. He even considered using the Life Drop for a second but quickly changed his mind. The Ancient voice had instructed him to keep it an absolute secret.
He flew within nine feet of Lord Longsword. The smirk on the man’s lips flickered. His eyes narrowed like unsheathed swords.
Jack barely registered the movement. One moment, the nine-foot-long sword was in its sheath. The next, it was hurtling at Jack’s face, coming sideways at tremendous speed. Before he even realized what was happening, his every instinct screamed to dodge.
Jack leaned back hard. The blade sailed over him, barely missing his nose, as he lost his balance and tumbled back-first into the sand.
“Your weight was too forward,” Longsword said, shaking his head in mock admonishment. “Don’t just charge like that.”
Jack’s heart was beating like a wardrum. He jumped to his feet. Longsword held the blade at his side, nine feet of sharp steel, not in a hurry to swing again. But Jack had no time. If he didn’t escape fast, a dozen other cultivators would catch up.
He rushed again. This time, he kept his body low. If the blade came again, he planned to leap over it, catching his opponent by surprise—that was the only way he could win.
The sword cracked like a whip. Longsword simply turned his wrist, and the tip of the nine-foot blade hissed through the air like a baleful gale, reaching Jack near-instantly. Not only was Longsword fast, but the length of his sword—and its apparent weightlessness—further enhanced that. Jack already felt cornered.
He followed the plan. He leaped over the blade and somersaulted, noting how the metal curved by the air resistance under him. It was made of soft, flexible materials. Unfortunately, this knowledge was of little help right now.
With another flick of Longsword’s wrist, the sword changed directions and leaped at Jack, aiming to bisect him. It was too fast. No sword should be able to move like that. The longer the sword, the harder it should be to wield it. Longsword used his as quickly as one might a dagger.
Jack ghost-stepped diagonally and forward through the strike, landing on the sand and leaping off to punch Longsword. His fist blazed purple, drawing a narrow, fast arc.
At the last moment, Longsword’s hand blurred. He slapped the strike away. The explosion burst to the side, leveling a nearby sand dune from the shockwave, as Jack found cold steel pressed into his neck.
He froze. He had lost? Just like that?
A growl escaped Jack’s throat, brutal and guttural.
“Eloquent. I like that,” Longsword said, nodding his head. “Listen, little guy. I’m going to pull back my sword. Don’t try to resist, okay?”
He did pull back. Even at this range, he didn’t seem particularly afraid of Jack. A dozen cultivators landed around them.
Meanwhile, Jack was reeling. His mind was going through a thousand thoughts at once, trying to understand everything about this battle.
Longsword was a sword fighter. He used no extraneous Daos, or, at least, hadn’t used any in this fight. He could manipulate the long blade with just a flick of his wrist, giving its tip extreme speed, like a whip. At the same level, how could anyone keep up with that? Jack’s dodges had been more prediction than observation.
Did the others escape?
He looked back, only to find Nauja, Gan Salin, and Brock fifty feet behind him. They all had their weapons drawn as if ready to assist Jack, but they stood still. Lines of smooth ice stretched through the sky, above Jack’s head, and around his friends, ending in sharp tips aimed at their throats.
Jack realized what happened and groaned. They hadn’t kept running. They turned around to help him, but that was all the opening the ice witch needed for her magic to reach.
“You must be wondering,” Longsword said, drawing Jack’s attention to the front. He caressed the handle of his weapon, already sheathed. “This is Featherlong. An Ancient artifact forged of extremely light, yet wickedly sharp metal alloys. One flick of my wrist is enough to sever a hill.”
“When?” Jack growled back.
“When was it made?”
“When did I ask?”
Longsword’s smile faltered momentarily, then returned. From this distance, his brown eyes were like deep pools of brown, and that sense of playful arrogance was even stronger. It didn’t escape Jack that the dozen cultivators around them, each a prodigy in their own right, stayed silent in deference.
“To be honest,” Longsword said, “I didn’t expect you to survive a single strike. Your strength is admirable for your level—you might even be Elite. Tell me: did you know who I was when you chose to fight me?”
“I had my suspicions,” Jack replied. He was already captured. The best he could do was see where this guy was going. “I know that asshole”—he jutted his thumb at Bocor, who snarled by the side—“works for a Lord Longsword. You’re hella strong and have a long sword. It didn’t take a genius.”
“Hmm.” Longsword cupped his chin, ignoring Jack’s jab at Bocor. “Your personality is as I’ve heard. I have to admit I’m intrigued, Jack Rust. Your fighting skills are lackluster—”
Your mom is lackluster, Jack almost said before catching himself.
“—but you certainly have potential. I’ll tell you what we can do. You have a little bounty with the Animal Kingdom, but my Wide Swirls are also a presence in the galaxy—and, unlike the Animal Kingdom, we accept outside disciples. Join my team. Swear an oath and devote your life to me for this Garden Assault. If you can impress me sufficiently, I might negotiate your protection in exchange for joining my faction.”
The crowd did not expect this. Brows were raised, eyes widened. Bocor the minotaur was the most shocked of all. He quickly said, “My Lord, the Animal Kingdom—”
“I am aware, Bocor,” Longsword cut him off. “But subordinates are part of one’s strength. I won’t weaken myself to placate your faction. If this man impresses me, the Wide Swirls and Animal Kingdom might work something out.”
“But—”
“Are you doubting me?”
His tone was calm. Yet, Bocor shut up instantly, bottling up his rage. “Never, my Lord.”
“Good. Now, what do you say, Jack Rust? Your strength has earned you a second shot at life.”
Jack, too, was shocked. This had come completely out of the blue. Join him? he wondered. Join a B-Grade faction?
Honestly, he didn’t really have a reason to refuse. There was no bad blood between him and Lord Longsword—though he instinctively disliked the man.
“You mentioned protection,” he asked carefully. “If I may ask, would that extend to my planet, as well? We were recently Integrated, and I believe we rubbed the Animal Kingdom the wrong way.”
“Planets are expensive.” Longsword shook his head. “Every Wide Swirls disciple can bring up to three family members. I’ll make that five for you.”
Jack’s heart clenched. Five people… He almost started counting before realizing that the people he had to protect were far, far more than five.
“And my companions here?” He motioned at Nauja, Gan Salin, and Brock.
Longsword cupped his chin. “The pet can be spared, but we’ll kill the other two. The kovan whose tavern you ruined is my associate. I can’t let this go unpunished.”
Jack looked back, meeting Nauja’s trembling stare. A moment later, she steadied. She was a barbarian. If she had to die, she would face death with honor.
“I would prefer not to—” Gan Salin tried to speak, but the smooth ice line that extended to his throat grew a bit, the tip drawing a drop of blood.
All this time, the ice witch stood a step behind Longsword and hadn’t batted an eye.
“This is not a negotiation,” Longsword said, noticing Jack’s hesitation. “It is an opportunity for you. Many would give up their entire families to be part of a Lord’s team. Accept quickly, or I will hand you over to Bocor here, to treat you as he sees fit. I assure you; that is not a future you want to face.”
Jack glanced at Bocor. The minotaur waited by the side, face torn between brutal glee and impotent fury. This was the same guy who’d slapped Brock in the Forbidden Cave. Part of the Animal Kingdom which bullied Earth.
What do I do? Jack thought desperately. If I decline, he will kill me and the others.
If I accept, I will survive for a little longer, and I may be able to save more of my people down the line…but I can’t surrender my friends. Plus, this guy is off. Everything he does feels a bit…too cold.
Goddammit. How am I supposed to make a choice like that? Is there really nothing else!? What would a fist do?
Unfortunately, the essence of the fist was predicated on not losing. Since he’d already lost, all the fist could help him do was die. There was no way to fight his way out of this one.
But he was more than just a fist. Jack squeezed his brain dry to find a solution, anything that could save him and his friends. He could feel their stares into his back. They relied on him.
And, as his brain was squeezed to the limit, it started spitting out random ideas. Most were stupid. But a few things made sense. Suddenly, the inklings of a plan were forming in Jack’s brain. A delicate manipulation that had a small chance of working, if executed properly.
Comments
Milton Skipper
ah pock evil cliffhanger. thank you for the chapters lol
Thanks for the chapter!
Hermes
His Dao will not let him compromise. At least I hope not. I don't want to see a bunch of chapters of him manipulating Lord Sword.
Scyfe
I'm really hoping his stunning plan is just to punch him in the face.
