Cataclysm War | Chapter 56: Cataclysm Overdrive (First Draft)

Tuesday, August 2, 4 S.E.

Leonidas activated [Cataclysm Overdrive] the moment he felt Braedon’s focus and attention shift solely to the inevitable victory.

The world seemed to dilate the moment he did, the instant of his activation compressing into a single instant of total awareness of self. His [Cataclysm Core] screamed in his dantian, revving like a car engine injected with liquid nitrous oxide. Power thrummed through his veins as if he’d never lived before, and he activated [Unyielding Pride] in the same moment.

Clarity and certainty of power roared through him, and Leonidas reacted faster than his conscious mind could comprehend.

[Psionic Force] exploded into being around Braedon in a field of impossible strength, buoyed by his doubled Willpower, and freezing the Elite rank Bannerlord in place as Leonidas flowed back to his feet, rising from the ground with a flash of his [Manastorm Pinions] and a movement of his legs that surpassed his own awareness of motion. He felt… amazing. It was as if he had found some latent, impossible level of oneness with himself that he could never have articulated.

The subtle awareness that his Core was rotating too fast to be safe flitted through his mind, but the Archon dismissed the concern in the face of the euphoria, focusing on his opponent.

Braedon stood frozen mid-swing as the crowd abruptly fell silent, and Leonidas found himself moving again as instinct replaced decision.

Something in him raged for maximum brutality.

The Black Knight was only too happy to answer its call.

His fist impacted Braedon a second later as he shifted positions, blurring from his starting point to the Prince-Royal’s left flank in a flash-burst of scarlet lightning. The [Psionic Force] holding Braedon in place dissipated in the same instant as Leonidas coalesced a bubble of pure Psi ahead of his fist, smashing it into the Warrior with a single Ideation:

Punish.

The impact detonated with enough force to almost teleport the Prince-Royal, blasting him away to smash limb over limb across the white manastone and tear its surface with the immensity of the impact. Vitality surged within him from his Lifesteal, and Leonidas smiled in satisfaction.

A heartbeat later, his [Manastorm Pinions] flared with a sound like the Storm Phoenix’s cry, and Leonidas felt himself collapse distance with a use of [Chivalric Charge] paired with his elevated Attributes, moving so fast that all he left behind was a flash of scarlet and a blur of obsidian.

He landed on Braedon with his wings flared, boot slamming into the other man’s cuirass hard enough to crack the steel and deform the manastone beneath him, denting the arena floor within ten meters of them in an expanding micro-crater.

Leonidas took a breath and inhaled the scents of the world afterward, marveling at the new smells, textures, and even colors that he could scent, feel, and taste just by merit of his Attribute enhancement. It felt as if his body was aflame, but in the most invigorating way. Power surged through his veins in a tidal wave of Cataclysm Mana, and he could feel his Psi had risen in output to match it. Without even thinking, he unleashed them, creating a localized maelstrom of power that slashed red-and-purple lightning through space with starlit void-scarring.

The rifts closed as fast as they appeared, but Leonidas paid it no mind, staring down at his armored hands and flexing his fingers mildly while Braedon wheezed and coughed beneath him.

“{Wh-what are you?!}” the Prince-Royal demanded.

Leonidas finally looked at him when he spoke, and to his own ears, his voice sounded double-timred; layered with an underscore of warbling force that created a passive reverberation.

“{Awake,}” he replied softly to him, heeding the words quietly supplied by his subconscious and the [Cataclysm Core] wailing inside his dantian. “{After so long in a comatose daze, I feel alive for the first time. At least, for just a little while longer.}”

Leonidas moved before Braedon could do more than wheeze in confusion and shifted, gripping the Prince-Royal in a vise of [Psionic Force] and slashing his arm to the right.

Braedon exploded into motion as he was flung by the intangible grasp, hurtling across the arena as Leonidas smiled under his helmet, sighed with pleasure at the power, and vanished again in a flash-burst of scarlet energy.

He reappeared above the terminally hurtling prince, pinions flared, and gripped him by the cuirass to spin mid-glide, flinging Braedon upward and spinning his own body thereafter. Leonidas impacted the arena wall a second later and indented its structure, his legs bending to absorb impact before he pushed himself up after the Elite rank with a detonation of force.

The sound of his impact against the wall came a second after he’d already left.

Only vaguely aware he’d momentarily broken the sound barrier, Leonidas hit Braedon’s four-tempered body a second later, striking him hard enough that something within the Prince-Royal audibly cracked as Leonidas drove his fist home.

“{Freedom…}” Leonidas said with bliss, ignoring the strangled gasp from his opponent, and spinning to spread his arms in joy as his wings held him aloft, burning through a mana pool that suddenly felt almost infinite.

Braedon smashed against the shield protecting the arena a second later and bounced off, flailing by instinct as he hurtled toward the manastone floor below.

Leonidas lowered his arms when Braedon impacted with a boom, and glanced toward the Royal Box.

A second later, he collapsed distance, appearing in front of it with a discharge of scarlet and violet lightning to peer at the occupants—namely, at Aylar, his hand reaching up to casually remove his helmet.

In the arena behind him, Braedon was stirring; he was as aware of that as he was of the immense strength filling his limbs. He felt like he could snap tungsten between his fingers at that point.

“...Leonidas?” Aylar asked quietly, looking up at him with a mix of hope and worry.

“Hello, dearest,” he replied warmly, the double-timbre of his voice strange to his own ears, outside the echoing confines of his helmet as his wings beat steadily to maintain his hover before the Royal Box. “Have you ever noticed how beautiful the world is? So many colors, and scents, and textures, and tastes, and—”

“Achilles!” Ceruviel cut in, her voice sharp. “You’ve already burned a minute on this ridiculousness. You have a fight to win!”

Leonidas sighed when his Mentor interrupted his expression of joy and gave her an unimpressed glance, before turning back to Aylar, who was staring at him with searching azure eyes.

“When I’m done,” he said to her simply, “let’s set a date for the wedding.”

Aylar’s eyes widened faintly, and he saw Synthra and Kairi shake their heads in unison, pause, and then stare at each other before nodding once in grudging respect.

“I—Alright, Leonidas,” Aylar said with a faint smile. “We’ll do that.”

Leonidas smiled at her, opened his mouth to say more, and then shifted.

Braedon’s greatsword speared the air he’d been hovering in a half-second later, and he caught the weapon by the hilt just before it passed by, peering at it with faint curiosity and then turning back toward where the Bannerlord was standing, panting, in the crater of his fall—right arm lowered after it had been used to hurl the weapon.

“{That was most discourteous, Your Highness,}” Leonidas called as irrational fury built in him, though he kept his voice mild. His eyes glanced over the greatsword, peering at the words ‘For the Glory of Eldormer’ etched in Haelfennyr along the blade’s center, and then he nodded to himself faintly.

“{This belongs with its owner.}”

A second later, he shifted again, blitzing from his hovering position to surge toward Braedon with a simultaneous double-activation of [Chivalric Charge]. His speed increased to the point that it felt like he almost teleported, and Leonidas landed in front of Braedon to the eye-widened shock of the Prince-Royal. Before the Haelfar could do more than bare his teeth, Leonidas shifted again, using pure speed to flash to Braedon’s side and slam a spinning roundhouse into the Prince-Royal’s ribs.

Braedon barely managed to lift an arm before he was blasted off his feet, careening end-over-end to smash into the arena wall.

Leonidas was there barely a second later with another cast of [Chivalric Charge], the Prince-Royal’s greatsword in hand.

Braedon’s eyes widened.

Leonidas smiled faintly.

“{You dropped this,}” he said conversationally, and then slammed the blade home through Braedon’s chest in a scream of steel. The surge of vitality that flooded into the Archon afterward was almost addictive as his [Epic Slayer] Lifesteal triggered, and Leonidas sighed in relief as he felt the wound in his chest heal almost entirely.

The Haelfar spasmed at the intrusion, angled carefully to avoid killing him outright, and Leonidas eyed the impalement with a faint tilt of his head.

“{Oh. I missed,}” he said conversationally, and promptly tore the sword out with another lightning-fast movement, spinning it in his grip and offering the hilt to Braedon. “{Your sword, Your Highness.}”

The Bannerlord stared at him with wide eyes, and Leonidas sighed theatrically.

“{No? Oh, very well then,}” he said with mock disappointment, and catalyzed his [Psikinetic Shield] behind the Prince-Royal, blasting him out of the wall and into the arena again with a flash-surge of pressure that sent him slamming down against the manastone—gifting the Archon with even more vitality. Leonidas eyed the greatsword a moment later, hummed in thought, and then shifted once more.

This time, he appeared in a blister of lightning next to Braedon in a crouch, holding the sword thoughtfully as the Haelfar looked at him with unfocused eyes.

“{This is really well-balanced,}” Leonidas said conversationally. “{Where did you acquire it?}”

Braedon goggled at him in disbelief and coughed up blood as his answer.

“{Ah, yes, I forgot,}” Leonidas said with a sigh. “{My sincere apologies.}”

A second later, Leonidas gripped Braedon’s arm, hauling the man to his feet and patting his wounded chest gently. The Bannerlord stared at him with a lack of comprehension, and Leonidas firmly set the greatsword into his hands, idly straightening the Prince-Royal’s stance while stepping backward to admire his work with a nod.

“{Much better,}” he said with a roil if suppressed rage, and peered at the man. “{So, shall we begin?}”

Braedon hesitated and then looked at him silently, his expression flickering between fury, shame, uncertainty, hatred, and even an echo of fear.

“{Why are you doing this?}” he asked finally, voice strong enough to impress Leonidas despite the Prince-Royal’s thoroughly received beating.

Leonidas considered the question seriously, vaguely aware he’d already passed the halfway mark on [Cataclysm Overdrive], and summoned his sword in a flash-burst of scarlet-and-violet energy.

“{Do you know what incenses me the most about this situation, Braedon? It is not your ambition, nor your demented view of my people, erroneous though it is. What infuriates me, what galls me, is that you are—by your own blind, selfish actions—depriving this nation of what could have been one of its most powerful assets.}”

Leonidas swung his [Archon’s Psiblade] idly as he spoke, still aware of the ticking clock in his HUD.

“{You should have been our most resplendent bastion, Braedon. You should have been the Marshal of our armies. You, Braedon Decimus Lux Meridius Eldormer, should have been our hope.}”

Braedon’s eyes widened faintly, and then flickered with uncertainty as Leonidas set his stance.

“{So consider this my final show of respect, instead of beating you as I would a feral hound. Consider this, Your Highness, my last act of Grace. You will die with your sword in hand, like the Hero you should have been—instead of beaten to death like a} fucking {animal, as my worst instincts might demand.}”

Braedon hesitated at that, glanced down at his sword, and seemed to let go of something in the same instant. It was a small action, easily missed, but Leonidas’ drastically enhanced Intelligence caught it easily as the Prince-Royal lifted his gaze to his once more.

“{Promise me something, Archon,}” he said finally, his voice far calmer, far more at ease than it had ever been. “{Promise me you will not do to my people what I would have done to yours.}”

Leonidas blinked at the statement, pausing for a moment, and then calmly assumed a duelist’s salute, blade before him with both hands on the hilt as he offered Braedon a dip of the head.

“{As the future King,}” he declared with a sincerity that warred with the screams of his Core for brutality, “{I vow it on my [Knight Oath].}”

Braedon, for the first time, smiled.

“{Then let it end, Black Knight.}”

Leonidas nodded, and a second later, his [Manastorm Pinions] flared as he accelerated in a flash of scarlet energy.

The pair impacted with a concussive shock, blades slamming together as Leonidas finally catalyzed his [Psionic Swordforce] and maximized his use of his Attributes. He had been mocking the Bannerlord out of rage, toying with him out of fury, and debasing him out of hatred for the threats he’d made against Aylar—but in that moment, that clash, that final duet of blades, it all melted away.

Leonidas and Braedon exchanged a rapid flurry of blows, dancing around one another as the pair of them wove between Alteran swordforms. In Braedon, for the first time since the fight’s beginning, the Archon was able to finally see the Haelfar’s own promise: he parried, and he deflected, counter-stroking and riposting with an elegance that transcended normal comprehension of combat.

Braedon was raw, he was flawed, he was damaged, and he was too prideful by half.

But within him, Leonidas recognized, lurked the radiant soul of a man who only wanted his people to thrive.

The duel escalated as they pressed their strengths, Leonidas responding to the Haelfar’s movements with rapidly accelerating precision and ease of motion. His enhanced state seemed to bleed into his blademastery, and he danced with Braedon as the world faded away, locked into an exchange of ideals as much as it was a melding of swords. Their wills seemed to coalesce in every strike, and Leonidas saw wild euphoria appear on the Prince-Royal’s features.

A smile, a genuine smile, one born of the pure and undiluted love of combat.

It was something that Leonidas could empathize with entirely.

As the clash hit a crescendo, following a blistering exchange of elegant slashes and metal-singing blows that ended with Leonidas pivoting to use [Coup de Force: Premier] to smash Braedon’s greatsword wide and high, he met the Prince-Royal’s gaze at the last second, finding fear there, yes, but acceptance as well.

“{Goodbye, Braedon,}” he said sincerely, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

“{Goodbye… Leonidas,}” the Bannerlord replied with surety. “{It was a glorious—}”

Leonidas’ weapon pierced Braedon’s heart with the sound of sundered steel, and the Prince-Royal spasmed on the length of his Psiblade.

“{Rest, Braedon,}” the Terran said quietly, catching the Prince-Royal’s body as the Arena exploded into a roaring chorus of earth-shaking approval. “{I will see to the rest… sword-brother.}”