B2 Chapter 244: Sequential Improvements, pt. 2

Rieker let out a barking snarl, his plated boot cracking the tiled stone floor of the training hall with the force of his charge.

Even laden down by his heavy plate the guildmaster was fast—but not so fast that Kaius couldn’t track him. He knew that the man was slowing himself, holding back so that he could actually put up a fight.

The recent spars with Rieker still felt like he was facing up against the siege ogre once again. Every trick he pulled, every burst of strength and speed, was met with even retribution—experience and age giving the Wardog the tools he needed to meet Kaius at a level that forced him to his limit.

Kaius couldn’t help but grin at the shining titan of steel that approached him. Defenseless he might have been against the man’s true might, he still took pride in that he was dangerous enough that Rieker had to don his personal armaments to ensure a lucky strike didn’t cause an injury that would interrupt their confrontation.

This would be their final spar—he knew that in his bones. His team had achieved their goals, having spent the last day more interested in watching him getting beaten and tempered at the hands of a master warrior. Aelina had a single level left, and both his Bladerite and Mystic’s Rend had grown by leaps and bounds.

Another shudder coursed through the floor as Rieker kicked off again, his warhammer rising in a promise of destruction.

Kaius’s senses sharpened, time slowing as he tapped into the rhythmic song that coursed through his blood. 

He hungered.

To show the Wardog what he was made of. To finally make him bleed.

Mana surged, two glyphs responding to his will. 

Snapping his left hand up, Kaius tapped into his latest spell. 

A spike of twisted steel screamed out—as long as his forearm with a base as thick as two thumbs. The air howled at its passage, loosed faster than an arbalest bolt, and a shower of orange motes drifted from the glyph of Drakthar that lay hidden under the scale of his gauntlets. 

The world shuddered, sparks of azure drifting from his boots as Kaius lurched forwards—Slip Step shrinking space as he charged forwards, hot on the heels of his Hateful Nail. 

The metal spike crossed the hall in the barest of moments. Kaius’s aim was true—honed in the days of his childhood, and remembered in the week of sparring against a superior foe.

Rieker reacted instantly, his hammer blurring to smash the spike aside. A clear ding ran through the air, sparks flying at the collision that sent Kaius’s summoned attack spinning to the side.

The spike morphed a moment later, cruel branches and hooks sprouting from his surface—useless, without flesh and armour to latch on to. 

Still fast approaching, Kaius hammered Rieker with another salvo—two Nails warded off with the same ease as the first. 

“You’ll have to do better than that, lad.” Rieker said, his voice muffled from the confines of his full helm. 

Kaius responded with a crash of thunder—Stormlash lighting the hall blue as it raced towards his opponent with sparking fury. 

Driving his foot into the ground, Rieker launched himself to the side. Lighting smote the earth, harmlessly scorching stone. 

Racing to meet him, Kaius dipped into another Slip Step. Seizing the mana in his core, he pushed it to his blade. 

He had a plan—Will surged into the spell that coursed out from Aelina, held tightly constrained until the moment he needed it. 

A wire seared to life along his blade's edge, warping and shimmering with visible instability. Mystic’s Rend. He’d left a portion of his mana unallocated—enough for a handful of uses of the skill.

Grabbing his blade in both hands, Kaius lunged forwards, dipping his shoulders to roll into a rising slash that would sunder the Wardog from hip to opposing shoulder.

Despite Slip Step making his advance far faster than it should have been, Rieker was ready for him. His warhammer swept down, smashing aside Kaius’s blade with a deafening clang. 

Only for the thin edge of unstable arcane along the edge of his blade to detonate outwards from the point of impact. Caustic energy blasted outwards, drowning Riekers arm in volatile blue. 

Even familiar with the skill, the guildmaster still grunted as his arm was forced back. 

Kaius moved, diving through slip space as his blade grew bright with the vigour of his Bladerite. His hand flashed up from his hilt for the barest of moments, harrying Rieker’s guard with a Hateful Nail. 

Rieker blurred, batting the projectile away—only for screaming lightning to follow close behind, a Stormlash binding his arm tight. 

The first blow. It barely made the man grunt—his rhythm thrown off for only a fraction of a moment. 

It was all Kaius needed. 

Pulling his blade in tight to the pit of his arm, coiled strength exploded out into a devastating stab. 

The razor sharp crystal point of his blade met the overlapping runed plates that covered Rieker’s chest and stopped fast—skittering across its surface with nary a scratch left behind.

Kaius scowled. He’d aimed for a seam, but the bastard had dropped his shoulder at the last moment, throwing off his aim.

The Wardog’s retaliation followed quickly. 

Leaping back, Kaius’s heart thumped as he saw the descending promise of his opponent's hammer. 

“Good—but you can do better!” Rieker called, racing after him. 

Kaius swept his blade up in an attempt to turn the blow—only for Rieker to sweep wide, defying the natural momentum of his swing. 

Bone splintered as the hammer smashed into the scales guarding his hip—blunt force transmitted smoothly into the flesh beneath.

Hip shattering it might have been, Kaius still knew that Rieker had held back. He’d seen it once—the Wardog putting his full might into a blow. It was a simple exhibition, an example of how far they had to go.

That blow had atomised the training dummy—a glowing hammer strike of fire and fury.

A familiar itching heat bloomed, his mashed hip reknitting almost as quick as the wound was delivered. Ignoring the dull ache left in the hammer's wake, Kaius whirled his blade overhead—another thread of explosive wire coating its edge. 

Rieker twisted through his hips, switching to a two handed grip as he drew his weapon back to defend against the cleaving blow. A committed defence—an exploitable weakness that left Explorer’s Toolkit crooning in delight, even muted as it was in the confines of the city.

Kaius grinned—it was the moment he’d been waiting for. 

After all his practice imbuing his spells with intent, he’d noticed something interesting. Centred on his glyphs, persistent spells like Slip Step were far easier to manipulate. He could push his intent into the glyph for longer—more easily force a result the longer he worked. 

As he strained, bringing his sword down with all of the might in his back and arms, Kaius unleashed his accumulated will. 

It was still a gamble—maybe one chance in five at best—but it was all he had.

If he failed, he’d be open and unguarded—at best Rieker would kick him back and break a few of his ribs. 

But he wanted to see the man bleed. Just once. 

Right as the haft of Rieker’s hammer rose to meet his swing, Kaius flickered. A barest moment of intangibility, usually so unreliable, happening with impeccable timing. 

His blade phased right through the Wardogs hammer, a ghostly apparition that brooked no barriers. The guildmaster’s counter-swing continued unhindered, sailing over his head.

Then the blurring fuzz of slip space left Kaius’s senses, and the edge of his sword slammed into Rieker’s pauldron. The wire of arcane coating his blade snapped, whining ominously as it condensed at the point of impact. 

*Ding! Latent Glyph of Aelina has reached level 100!*

*Ding! Spell available for selection!*

Blue white fire burst outwards in a tight cone, a deafening crack stabbing into Kaius’s ears as the shockwave blew over him. Rieker grunted, stepping back under the unexpected result. He paused, staring at Kaius before turning his helmeted head to stare at his scorched armour. 

A thin drip of blood seeped out from a seam between the plates, right where Kaius had struck. 

Standing in a mid-guard, it took all of Kaius’s willpower not to throw arms in the air and howl his victory. Thankfully, his own visored helmet concealed his wild grin. 

Then Rieker looked back at him, and his heart nearly froze as he remembered who he was facing. 

The Wardog. Palpable violence washed outwards, seeping through his scaled armour to chill his blood like a glacial breeze. Metal and leather creaked as Rieker tightened his gauntleted grip on his hammer.

“Ah, crap.” Kaius thought to himself.

“Just kidding.” Rieker said, his body suddenly relaxing. 

Kaius sighed in relief, the breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding racing free.

“Dick.” he called back, rolling his eyes—even with only a thin gap in his visor, he knew that Rieker would see it. 

Rieker chuckled—a sound closer to grinding boulders than human amusement. Pulling off his helmet, the guildmaster pushed the streaks of sweat soaked hair free of his face and gave him a teasing grin.

“That was ballsy—but effective all the same. Never thought a kid who hasn’t even reached his fifth skill would be able to make me bleed.” Rieker shook his head with a rueful smile, before he snapped up with narrowed eyes. “Don’t tell anyone, I'll never hear the end of it.” 

Kaius laughed. As much as Rieker could crush him if he wanted, he’d achieved a far more important victory. A blow to the man’s pride.

“I wouldn’t dare—who would believe little old me managed to hurt the Wardog of Deadacre anyway?” Kaius responded. 

Rieker snorted, before he walked over and clasped Kaius’s shoulder. 

“That was a good fight—you’re getting stronger. All of you.” he said, turning to include Porkchop and Ianmus, who had started to make their way over from the edge of the hall now that their spar had finished.

“A few more months, and I have no doubt you’ll be ready for your next delve—which means you’ll have a straight shot to the end of the first tier. Even if you have to spend a bit of time working on your skills before you make the jump, you’ll have more than enough strength to protect yourself from some of the more common dangers of power.” Rieker continued. 

Kaius nodded—he’d hoped so. As much as he’d enjoyed the last half a year or so, he was getting antsy. The sooner he had the strength and backing to be able to look into the bounty hunter who had tracked down him and Father, the better.

He’d already asked Reiker if he’d found anything about the man with the scar, but the guildmaster had little to tell him. Only apologetically confirming Kaius’s suspicion that he wasn’t a known local agent, and that he was still waiting to hear from contacts in the Greenseed Dukedoms and further afield. 

Rieker turned his attention back to him, a curious expression on his face.

“That last attack of yours, where you phased through, is it consistent?” 

Kaius winced, shaking his head. “As much as I would love it to be, it isn’t.”

Barking a laugh, Rieker shook his head slowly. “Just my luck then. You’ll get there eventually, but until then, best to leave it as a last ditch attack.”

Kaius nodded—he wasn’t foolish enough to risk leaving himself completely open in a true mortal battle. 

“The important thing for now is that it worked. Though I would love to know if it was enough to push you over the edge.” Rieker asked. 

Evidently, his team felt similarly, both Ianmus and Porkchop watching him closely in anticipation of his response.

“It was.” Kaius grinned.

The others smiled widely, stepping in to slap him on the back in congratulations.

“What are you waiting for then? Check your options!” Porkchop said, nudging him in the chest.

Kaius laughed and shoved his brother back, but pulled up his notifications all the same, moving first to the other skills that had increased during his brawl with the guildmaster.

*Ding! Initiate’s Glyphic Bladerite has reached level 73!*




*Ding! Mystic’s Rend has reached level 23!*




*Ding! Tempered by Dissonance has reached level 81!*




*Ding! Explorer’s Toolkit  has reached level 75!*




*Ding! Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo has reached level 98!*




*Ding! Lesser Regeneration has reached level 86!*

Kaius took in his growth—a mere fraction of his total gains over the last few weeks of training, but significant all the same. As much as a deep part of him hungered to throw himself non-stop into confrontations, he knew that the work Rieker had insisted they put in was the reason they were keeping pace with their meteoric rise in levels.

If they managed to keep this up, there was a very real possibility that they wouldn’t have to spend much time at all capped at the end of the tier. 

Smiling in satisfaction, he moved on.

He had spells to pick.