Chapter 35 — The Sky Has Opinions
The Jungle of the Plant Lords had changed since their battle at the waterfall. It had not become friendly—Caelan suspected the jungle would regard friendliness as a personal failing—but it had grown quieter. Great roots still twisted beneath the earth like sleeping serpents, poisonous flowers continued opening whenever anything warm-blooded wandered too close, and distant howls occasionally suggested that something enormous had just discovered hunger. Yet the constant pressure of pursuit had eased. For Caelan, Luminel and Stormmane, that meant opportunity. They hunted as they travelled toward the World Tree, not for entertainment and certainly not because Stormmane's increasingly enthusiastic suggestions that everything looked "good for training" were being encouraged. The wild Aetherkin they encountered were damaged things: some swollen with unstable essence, some driven feral by isolation, others so corrupted that intelligence had been reduced to little more than hunger. Leaving such creatures behind them simply meant allowing them to attack the next traveller. So the trio fought, absorbed what useful essence remained after each victory, rested when they could and continued toward the impossible tree hanging eternally on the horizon.
Caelan used those fights to learn what his new Adult body could actually do. Evolution had given him access to abilities that had once appeared on Shun's Linker as locked names, but possessing something and understanding its limits were very different matters. Stellar Movement turned distance into an inconvenience. Path Killer could remove an enemy's viable routes toward a desired outcome, though using it carelessly against stronger opponents consumed considerably more concentration than he liked. Light answered him with increasing ease; thin lasers could appear from nearly any angle he chose, while greater effort allowed entire pillars of radiance to descend from above. Time's Miracle proved stranger still. It did not make Caelan faster. It made everything else slower, turning falling leaves into leisurely drifting objects and giving him precious additional moments inside a fight. His Myriad-Star Fate Body remained the practical foundation beneath all of it. Without enhancement, his raw body was less physically imposing than many Adult Aetherkin. With the stellar pattern of Ki and Destiny spread around him, that difference disappeared very quickly. At his current stage he could push the technique as high as five hundred times his base physical ability, though doing so drank ki with the enthusiasm of Stormmane discovering an unattended dinner.
Stormmane himself had become difficult to recognise as the tiny Voltkin Caelan had first found in the desert. His natural evolution into Stormmane had left him a tall lion warrior with orange-red fur, a wild golden mane and the broad frame of something built to stand at the front of a battle. The missing arm complicated matters, particularly with the sword that had manifested with his Adult form, but Stormmane treated the problem less as a disability and more as a personal insult he intended to overcome through stubbornness. He had learned to wield the blade one-handed, sometimes clumsily, sometimes surprisingly well, and every fight made the motions cleaner. Luminel remained the strongest of the three in experience if not always in immediate output. He was already Elite-stage and had spent longer surviving than either of them had been alive, but the distance between Elite and Apex was enormous. If he ever reached the full expression of the Fairy King's legend, it would not happen because he had collected enough essence from a few jungle predators. Growth helped. Experience helped. Neither replaced the developmental condition an Aetherkin ultimately had to fulfil.
"Another one," Stormmane said one afternoon as a corrupted beast dissolved into drifting light behind him. He wiped his sword against a broad leaf before remembering that the weapon was made of manifested energy and did not actually require cleaning. "That makes seven today."
Luminel floated down beside him. "At this pace I may reach Apex sometime before the next Reset."
Stormmane considered that. "When is that?"
"If I knew, I would sleep much better."
Caelan rested his lance against one armored shoulder. He had taken to keeping the Azure armor manifested while moving through the more dangerous stretches of jungle. After the past several days, calling the region a battlefield seemed less like exaggeration and more like accurate geography. "Perhaps the Archive has a progress bar."
Luminel stared at him.
"Somewhere."
"Please do not ask the Grand Archive for a progress bar."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Your face was planning to."
Stormmane grinned. "I'd like one."
"Of course you would."
They moved on beneath shafts of green-gold sunlight, stepping over roots thick enough to serve as bridges. The World Tree remained ahead of them no matter how the path curved. Caelan could feel it now even without looking, an impossible landmark pressing faintly against perception. Every victory brought more essence, but more importantly it gave him room to understand the body and abilities he had awakened into. The answers waiting at the World Tree concerned rather more than combat, yet learning to fight properly in this stage seemed a sensible precaution before demanding explanations from the intelligence responsible for maintaining an entire world.
The jungle gave them perhaps twenty peaceful minutes.
Then it began buzzing.
Stormmane stopped.
Luminel looked upward.
Caelan sighed.
The buzzing multiplied until leaves trembled on their branches and the air itself seemed to vibrate.
Stormmane slowly drew his sword.
"Please tell me that's one insect."
"No," Luminel said.
"Five?"
"No."
"Ten?"
Luminel looked through the canopy.
"Oh."
Caelan disliked that particular "oh."
The trees exploded.
Hundreds of mechanical wasp Aetherkin burst through the greenery in a glittering swarm of black-and-yellow armour, metal wings screaming as they tore through the canopy. Their bodies were roughly human-sized, each with a long weaponised stinger and compact energy emitters built into their limbs.
Caelan's gaze sharpened.
Adult stage.
The majority of the swarm could not deliberately attack him.
That did not make the situation remotely convenient.
The Steelwasps poured around him, their weapons instinctively turning toward Stormmane and Luminel whenever an attack path crossed Caelan. Beams filled the jungle. Stormmane threw himself aside as several shots shredded the ground where he had been standing, while Luminel shot upward and immediately regretted becoming the brightest flying object in the area.
"Why are they all looking at me?!"
"You're pink and glowing!" Stormmane shouted.
"That is not a crime!"
"In this jungle it might be!"
Caelan raised a hand.
Twenty points of light appeared among the swarm.
The Steelwasps reacted immediately, twisting into defensive formations. Destiny's Chosen prevented Caelan's attacks from simply missing through ordinary evasion, but the creatures could still defend themselves. Several threw up overlapping energy plates while others darted behind their companions.
The lasers fired.
Golden-white beams punched through the formation.
Some were blocked.
Others struck.
Several Steelwasps spiralled from the sky trailing smoke.
Then the buzzing changed.
Lower.
Deeper.
Stormmane looked upward.
"That sounds bigger."
Two colossal shapes forced their way through the canopy.
The first tree they struck simply broke.
The newcomers resembled enormous armoured hornets fused with mobile artillery platforms, their swollen metallic bodies supported by thunderous wings while long cannon structures protruded from beneath reinforced thoraxes. Each was large enough to flatten a house merely by landing badly.
Luminel's expression soured.
"Siegehives."
Caelan opened Eyes of Fate.
Elite stage.
Those could attack him.
Both cannons turned toward him immediately.
"Naturally."
The first fired.
Caelan vanished with Stellar Movement a fraction before the energy blast erased several trees behind him. The second shot followed his predicted destination.
Eyes of Fate showed it before the cannon completed its adjustment.
Caelan changed direction.
The beam missed him by metres.
Stormmane ran beneath the swarm, one-handed sword raised over his head. "Any brilliant plans?"
"Yes."
"Good!"
"Run."
Stormmane looked offended.
Then twelve Steelwasps descended toward him.
"Excellent plan!"
They ran.
What followed was perhaps the least dignified tactical withdrawal Caelan had participated in since arriving in the Aetherkin world. Stormmane sprinted over roots with a sword in one hand while complaining loudly about fighting before lunch. Luminel zigzagged through the foliage with the entire swarm appearing to regard his glowing pink body as an invitation. Caelan moved between them in flashes, using bursts of wind and columns of light to break formations whenever the Steelwasps became too concentrated, while Eyes of Fate kept him ahead of the two Siegehives' artillery.
"Why are there so many?!" Stormmane yelled.
"Colonial insects!" Luminel shouted.
"That doesn't answer the emotional part of the question!"
A beam struck the ground behind them.
The resulting explosion launched all three over a ridge.
Caelan corrected himself in midair with wind.
Luminel recovered naturally.
Stormmane landed face-first in mud.
He emerged several seconds later with vegetation stuck in his mane.
"I hate flying enemies."
"You were not flying," Caelan pointed out.
"That's why I hate them!"
They reached an open clearing.
Caelan stopped.
Stormmane skidded beside him.
Luminel hovered overhead.
The Steelwasps spread around the perimeter.
The two Siegehives emerged above them.
Stormmane raised his sword.
"So we're fighting."
Caelan activated Path Maker.
Possibilities unfolded.
Fight.
Possible.
Expensive.
Several injuries.
Stormmane's current condition made the outcome worse.
Then another future appeared.
Light.
Not his.
From above.
Caelan looked up.
"Oh."
Luminel glanced at him.
"What?"
"Apparently we're about to be interrupted."
A spear of radiant energy fell from the heavens.
The first Siegehive disappeared inside the explosion.
Stormmane's jaw dropped.
A second lance descended.
Then a third.
The sky became artillery.
Radiant spears tore through the Steelwasp swarm with absurd precision, striking airborne targets one after another without touching Caelan, Luminel or Stormmane. One blast caught the remaining Siegehive across its armoured side and sent the enormous creature crashing through three blocks of jungle before another heavenly lance struck directly into its cannon assembly.
The resulting explosion was impressive enough that Caelan briefly considered applauding.
The swarm broke.
More spears fell.
Within moments, the clearing became remarkably free of hostile insects.
Silence returned.
A mechanical wing landed beside Stormmane.
He stared at it.
Then looked upward.
"Who did that?"
Caelan's Eyes of Fate were already searching.
No attacker.
No immediate second strike.
No future in which something descended to introduce itself.
Luminel floated cautiously higher.
"Whoever it was, they're far away."
Stormmane sniffed.
"Smells like cooked metal."
"Metal does not cook."
"Tell that to them."
Caelan studied the sky.
The precision bothered him more than the power.
Those attacks had not merely destroyed a swarm. They had selected targets from enormous distance and threaded strikes between three moving allies without a single accidental hit.
"Thank you," Stormmane called upward.
Nothing answered.
Luminel cupped his tiny hands around his mouth.
"If you're evil, please schedule the betrayal after we've eaten!"
Caelan looked at him.
"What?"
"You can tell a lot about a mysterious benefactor by whether they respect meal times."
Stormmane nodded solemnly.
"True."
Caelan decided not to participate.
They started walking again.
Then another radiant spear struck the ground less than ten metres in front of Stormmane.
He jumped backward.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!"
Luminel stared at the smoking crater.
Caelan looked up again.
Another lance came down behind them.
Then one to their left.
Stormmane spun in place.
"The savior is attacking us!"
"No," Caelan said.
A fourth strike landed on their right.
Stormmane stared at him.
"That is an interesting definition of 'not attacking.'"
"They aren't trying to hit us."
Luminel looked from crater to crater.
His expression flattened.
"They're herding us."
Caelan nodded.
Another lance descended behind them.
Stormmane began moving forward immediately.
"I dislike being herded."
"So do I."
"Should we fight them?"
"Can you see them?"
"No."
"Can you reach them?"
"No."
"Then no."
Caelan activated Path Maker again.
The route appeared.
Follow the bombardment.
Something useful ahead.
Dangerous.
But useful.
He sighed.
"We're going where they want."
Stormmane looked horrified.
"Why?"
"Because Path Maker agrees."
"With the mystery sky lunatic?"
"Unfortunately."
Luminel groaned.
"Wonderful. Fate and the artillery have formed an alliance."
The next twenty minutes consisted of what Stormmane later described as "being bullied by heaven." Every time they tried to deviate too far, a radiant lance struck nearby. Not one touched them. Caelan's Eyes of Fate confirmed very quickly that the attacks were deliberately placed to guide movement rather than cause injury, which made the situation no less irritating. The mysterious attacker drove them across ridges, through shallow swamps and along narrow passes, once destroying a fallen bridge immediately after they crossed it with such deliberate timing that even Caelan considered it unnecessarily theatrical.
Eventually the jungle thinned.
Trees gave way to shattered metal.
Glass glittered beneath vines.
A dead city rose ahead.
Half-collapsed towers leaned over streets covered in webs. Buildings stood open like gutted animals, their interiors dark and silent, while strands of pale silk stretched between rooftops thick enough to serve as suspension cables.
Stormmane stopped.
"No."
Luminel landed on Caelan's shoulder.
"I agree."
Caelan surveyed the ruins.
Something moved above a streetlight.
Eight eyes opened.
Stormmane slowly drew his sword.
"The giant insects were better."
A long spider leg curled down from the building above.
Luminel sighed.
"Do not say things like that. The world hears you."
Stormmane stared at him.
"You think the world specifically hates me?"
"I am beginning to consider it."
Caelan looked back.
No more heavenly spears fell.
They had been delivered exactly where the unseen attacker wanted them.
He turned toward the city again.
"I suppose we're here."
A strand of silk dropped directly in front of him with a soft twang.
Stormmane swallowed.
"Spider city?"
"Spider city," Luminel confirmed.
Caelan adjusted his grip on the lance.
"Wonderful."
High above them, the woman Yuto knew as Ariel was no longer wearing a human face.
Arachne crouched among the webs of a broken tower, her true humanoid form revealed in the shadows. Pale features remained almost beautiful from a distance, but multiple crimson eyes glowed beneath her brow, and long spider limbs extended from behind her body into the surrounding silk. The entire ruined district served as an extension of her senses. Every vibration travelled through her web.
And three extremely unwanted vibrations had just entered her city.
Caelan.
Luminel.
Stormmane.
She knew them from Yuto's stories.
The little boy had spoken of them over dinner with the guileless enthusiasm of someone describing heroes from a favourite book. Caelan was the strange human-looking Aetherkin who fought like a cultivator and argued with people stronger than him. Luminel was the tiny fairy teacher who had protected them for weeks. Stormmane had been Raikōmaru, the young Voltkin who trained under Caelan and had lost an arm protecting him.
Their arrival was inconvenient.
Their method of arrival made it infuriating.
Arachne's crimson eyes turned toward the sky.
The last traces of radiant energy still lingered among the clouds.
She knew that power.
"Minerva."
The name emerged like venom.
Of course.
Of all the creatures in this miserable world, it would be her.
Minerva had once been closer to Arachne's level, another ambitious Aetherkin born from an enormous legend. Then she had fulfilled whatever impossible condition her own legend demanded and ascended into Apex stage, becoming one of the great beings known collectively as the Twelve Olympians. Her authority in battle had grown accordingly.
Arachne had remained Elite.
She had never forgiven her for it.
The relationship between them had once been called rivalry by observers who preferred polite words.
Arachne called it unfinished business.
Now Minerva had destroyed the swarm pursuing Caelan's group and deliberately driven all three directly into Arachne's domain.
Arachne's fingers tightened around the web.
"So this is your game."
The sky naturally offered no explanation.
It rarely did.
"You send them to me."
Her gaze dropped to the streets below.
Caelan was already examining the webs.
Luminel spoke quietly from his shoulder.
Stormmane was pretending not to be nervous.
Three more complications between Arachne and the little boy sleeping comfortably in her refuge.
She smiled slowly.
Perhaps Minerva thought she was helping.
Perhaps she suspected Yuto was here.
Perhaps this was merely another of the Apex warrior's infuriating games.
It did not matter.
One day Arachne would rise high enough that Minerva's games ended.
She remembered when they had fought on closer terms. She remembered every condescending laugh, every effortless victory that had come after Minerva's ascension, every reminder that one of them had moved forward while the other remained trapped beneath the same ceiling.
Arachne would reach Apex.
Yuto and Michael might become the key.
Hope was growing.
When Michael eventually reached the stage she required, when the Sigil and bond had matured enough to carry the weight she wanted, she would take everything from them and use it to push herself toward the developmental threshold she had failed to cross for so long.
Then Minerva could laugh again.
Arachne would enjoy hearing how the sound changed.
A vibration moved through the web.
Caelan's group had entered deeper into the city.
Arachne's anger faded beneath calculation.
Fine.
Plans changed.
Webs did not break merely because new insects wandered into them.
They grew.
They adapted.
They tightened.
Arachne smiled and sent a pulse through the silk network.
All across the dead city, enormous spiders began to move.
Far below, Caelan stopped.
His Eyes of Fate opened.
Stormmane noticed.
"What?"
Caelan looked toward the darkened rooftops.
"We have company."
Luminel sighed.
"Naturally."
Above them, hidden behind kilometres of web and ruined steel, Arachne settled deeper into her throne.
The little lamb was already inside her web.
Now his friends had joined him.
That did not have to ruin dinner.
It merely meant she would need a larger table.