Sunscorch (Rise To Omniscience Book 8)

by Aaron Oster

  He didn’t bother trying to catch himself with his Gravity Release, instead allowing the gravitational pull of the planet to pull him back to his fight with Sarah and to cement the end of a goddess.

  ***

  Morgan recovered quickly from her kick, diving back down at her. Once again, Sarah staggered to her feet, all but spent from that last rush. Fear coursed through her, spurring her on. Having little choice, she turned again to flee, hoping to escape his wrath. He was fast, and with her new injury hampering her, he caught up within the span of a single heartbeat.

  She whirled, throwing a hail of bloody needles at him, but his hands flashed out in a blur of motion, the burning silver aura dissipating over half, while a blast of powerful wind blocked the rest. She charged in, throwing a flurry of blows and hoping to knock him back, but it was as though she were punching an elastic wall.

  The silver coating flexed and stretched beneath her blows, but nothing actually penetrated. Had she had more power, she might have been able to do something about this, but drained as she was, Sarah found herself being driven back.

  A series of quick, sharp blows returned, sending her stumbling back as she tried to deflect, rather than block outright. It worked, to a point. While his blows didn’t make direct contact, her hands burned with each block, the skin being seared from her fingers and palms. This, though, she was able to heal, although it cost far more power than any of the normal injuries he’d inflicted thus far.

  Another problem with facing him this close was that he was extraordinarily good at this. Morgan was a martial artist unlike any she’d ever fought. Sarah could feel her terror warring with rage. She was furious that she hadn’t finished him faster, that she was losing this badly, and there was nothing she could do about it. She also berated herself for being so stupid and not bringing backup, despite all of Herald’s warnings to the contrary.

  Herald! she thought, feeling one last spark of hope. If she could get him involved, they might still have a chance! All she had to do was put enough distance between the two of them to contact him.

  A blurring silver fist cracked into the side of her head then, sending her spinning away. Pain, the likes of which she hadn’t felt in ages, coursed through her. It was pure agony on a level that she hadn’t even realized was possible. Another blow caught her, this one in the stomach. It launched her skyward, sending her hurtling into the air with so much force that she broke the sound barrier.

  A loud boom echoed as the silver figure appeared, his back lit by the sun and shining with the authority of God himself.

  Sarah was a god, but in essence, that just meant she was a super powerful being who wouldn’t die of old age and should be invulnerable. But there was a higher power, a being who ruled over them all — the Author. His power was absolute, one that no one could challenge. Sure, there were two sides to the Author, but in essence, He was still a single being.

  In that moment, frozen in time, Sarah truly feared for her life as she never had before, even more than she had with the looming threat of Chaos hanging over her head. This was an immediate end to any chance she had at survival. Sarah did not want to die, not after all she’d been through to stay alive.

  Yet as the brilliant silver figure pulled his arm back to strike, she found herself unable to move.

  This being standing before her radiated the authority of a higher being, one that even she couldn’t hope to match. How could someone as piteous as she dare to stand in his way? The glittering fist descended, and Sarah felt the impact. It drove into her center, to her very soul. There was a ripping and tearing sensation, then the absence of something important. Then, she was falling.

  The ground buckled beneath her a moment later, the explosion of sound blasting out around them. As her vision began to fade, she saw him descending, a golden halo seeming to curl around his shining frame, and despite herself, Sarah felt herself smiling. If she had to go, at least it would be at the hands of this majestic being, instead of on her knees, being slowly smothered by the oncoming power of Chaos.

  The world flickered around her one last time, then everything went black.

  85

  Morgan knew the moment was right when he caught Sarah in the face. As soon as the blow landed, he knew this fight was over. He followed up quickly, pivoting in place, flexing his knees, then driving upward, using the full weight and momentum of his entire body – along with the power lent to him by his Bestial Might – to slam a powerful blow into her abdomen.

  The punch was so powerful that Sarah’s body broke the sound barrier on the way up. He used Rift, appearing before her. Her body was thoroughly thrashed and beaten, blood leaking from dozens of wounds and her eyes unfocused.

  He could see himself reflected in those eyes. A figure clad in silver, outlined by the light of the sun.

  Breathing in deeply and ignoring the tightness in his chest, Morgan drove his fist into her center, right where her core was. Then, he pulled, and with a ripping, tearing sound, a shining, golden sphere separated itself from Sarah’s body.

  The goddess fell, already dying, as Morgan willed the core into a cohesive shape, forcing it into containment and stabilizing the power using his Devourer trait. Every part of him wanted to absorb this power, to feel the divine Essence running through his veins. It was hard to resist. Far harder than he’d thought possible.

  With a supreme effort of will, Morgan shoved the glowing golden core into a small Rift, storing it where no one but he would be able to retrieve it.

  As he floated downward, the Godsteel began to flow from his skin; its power spent for the time being. It could draw nothing more from him right now, and as the spear reformed in his hands, Morgan felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him.

  His Soulstream was still active, even if only for a few more seconds, and while he was technically whole and uninjured, he was so tired. When his feet touched down on the ground, next to the already-dead goddess, he sagged, dropping to his hands and knees and panting hard.

  He’d done it. He’d managed to complete the seemingly impossible task of killing a god when she was at her full power, and he’d done it without any help from anyone else. He very much doubted that the same outcome would have been possible if he had been forced to face two instead of one or if he’d tried this before advancing.

  That fight with the copy of Gwen had been the toughest he’d ever fought, and had she not run off after his injuring her, he doubted he would have won. Not after the fight he’d just had.

  He looked over at the dead goddess, her body remaining where it was, eyes open wide and jaw slack, staring up into space. This fight could easily have gone another way, and despite all his hard work, he still could have ended up here instead of her.

  “But you didn’t,” Sarah’s voice said in his mind, as her body, still composed of silver mist, flowed out of the spear. “You won. You got what you needed. But your fight isn’t over just yet.”

  Morgan groaned, wanting nothing more than to collapse right then and there and go to sleep. But Sarah was right. He could feel it, even from there—the danger closing in on his friends, the warping of the air as World Beasts rose, and the green haze lying over the area where Grace and the others were gathered.

  There was no actual World Beast in that specific spot, but the haze of one’s power was.

  “They need you, Morgan. They won’t last much longer without you there to help. Go to them. I’ve already waited for two years; I can afford to wait a little bit longer.”

  She gave him a smile then, her lips twisting up into a wry grin, which Morgan returned.

  “I’ll bring you back as soon as they’re safe. I promise.”

  Sarah began slowly fading back into the spear as he pushed himself to his feet, fighting back the fatigue that tried to claim him. Yes, he was tired, exhausted beyond words, but as Sarah had said, there was still one last job for him to complete.

  He turned one last time, looking at the body of the goddess. She looked so much like the Sar
ah he loved, and yet, she was so different. He felt a momentary pang of regret for what he’d done before banishing it, along with any guilt he might have felt over killing her.

  The price of a life was high, but with her death, his Sarah would be reborn.

  Morgan turned his back on her then and took off into the sky. He vanished just a second later, disappearing into a warping tunnel of light and leaving the corpse of a goddess lying in the wreckage that their battle had caused.

  ***

  Grace stood atop the wall, heart in her throat as the enemy soldiers thew themselves at it – they’d been doing so for the last five minutes, to no avail. Down below, and guarded by some twenty elves, lay the unconscious forms of Elyssa, Katherine, Gilderon, and Malachi.

  Ragnar, oddly enough, was still on his feet, while his son and Malachi’s wife were both sitting with their backs to the wall, completely exhausted.

  Lumia rested on her shoulder, back in her smallest form, unable to do much more than keep her eyes open.

  Despite the return of the sun – due to their leaving the radius of the World Beast’s power – the drake’s exhaustion had not faded. She’d used up every bit of her remaining strength getting them back through the portal and now had nothing left in reserve.

  In fact, out of them all, Grace was the most capable, which was quite unfortunate, to say the least. She might be stronger than she had been, but fighting off people who were twice or even three times her own rank was pretty much impossible.

  There was nowhere to run. This small outpost wasn’t much more than a round structure made of stone and wood, meant to keep watch on the portal and prevent any illegal entry. Because of the relative peace between the five races of Faeland, they weren’t exactly tested all too often.

  Grace had to wonder why they’d come out there, instead of near Elyssa’s palace as they’d originally planned, but unfortunately, the soldiers were too occupied and Elyssa too unconscious to give her an answer. Their small guard post was now surrounded, just as they’d been before, with no way of escape. All they could do now was wait for the reinforcements to come.

  It was a race. Would they hold out long enough for help to arrive, or would the enemy swarm over the walls, killing them all, before their reinforcements could make it there?

  There was one way in which Grace could help, despite her relative weakness, and it helped her to feel useful where she’d been so utterly useless up until then.

  A soldier came clambering over the wall, and Grace blasted him with a wave of sound, sending the off-balance gnome sailing into the milling crowds below. The same was happening all along the walls, as soldiers and Cultists alike – realizing they couldn’t break the walls – were now attempting to scale them.

  Well over a thousand had made it through, but despite that, Grace could see no signs of Shedra. She wondered if what the gnome had done had killed him but decided that her luck couldn’t be that good. The gnome would survive, of that, she was sure, and the next time they met, she was quite certain that he would be much more powerful.

  A snarling beastman hauled himself over the wall, and Grace blasted him off, then ran to her left and kicked another who was halfway over. To either side, elves ran back and forth, repelling the swarming attackers, but they were badly outnumbered, and some had already managed to get a foothold.

  “You need to retreat,” Lumia said. “Get off the walls. It’s not safe up here.”

  “No,” Grace said, kicking an elf with a twining serpent tattoo from the wall. “I refuse to leave when I can still help.”

  More of the enemy swarmed over, and screams began sounding from the elves defending their positions. Grace cursed as she sent another soldier hurling from the walls, but four more took his place, climbing up with weapons drawn. Slowly, she began to back away, unleashing blasts of sound and sending several more flying from their perch.

  But these fighters were tough, and the fall didn’t kill them. They were back on their feet just moments after, moving to await their chance to climb again.

  “Damn it all,” Grace muttered, extending her arms and unleashing her Siren Scream.

  The gnome who’d been rushing her staggered but didn’t fall. She took a step back, stumbling over the body of a fallen elf, and the gnome lunged at her, sickly green light burning around his extended hand.

  Grace saw the looming grip of death closing in around her. This was it. This was…

  The gnome’s body exploded in a shower of gore as a black streak slammed into him, shattering a two-foot section of the wall and sending several more of the enemy stumbling from their perches.

  “I’d give up if I were you. You’re all still going to die, but if you lay down your weapons, I’ll make it quick!”

  The voice that boomed out over the battlefield was near-deafening and caused everyone to freeze where they stood. Both friend and foe alike looked up to see the figure standing in the air above.

  Grace felt a mix of excitement, hope, and joy flood her all at once as she saw Morgan standing there, back from the dead and seeming stronger than ever! She’d felt his strength at a distance before, but as one of the enemy moved to attack, despite his warning, a dark aura flared up around him, driving the gnome to the ground.

  The power Grace felt radiating from him was almost unfathomable. How someone could have that much strength, she didn’t know. It felt as though Morgan had harnessed the power of the gods and taken it for himself!

  “Holy shit,” she whispered, as Morgan appeared before the enemy soldier, seizing him around the throat and squeezing until his head popped off.

  “He’s only one man!” one of them shouted, and as though that had broken the spell, the enemy forces all turned their attentions on him.

  Grace felt her heart skip a beat when she saw that, but when Morgan started moving, she quickly realized that it wasn’t him she should be worried about.

  “It seems he’s changed quite a bit in the short time we’ve been apart,” Lumia said, watching Morgan with shining eyes.

  “Has he…?” Grace asked.

  “Just watch, child,” Lumia said, all signs of her earlier fatigue now gone. “Watch what a supermage can truly do when they unleash their full might!”

  86

  At first glance, one might assume that Morgan was crazy, taking on a force of over a thousand fighters ranked in the 40s, 50s, and 60s. However, Grace had seen enough of her teacher to know that he wouldn’t go into a fight he didn’t think he could win, not if he had a choice.

  From the moment she’d sensed that flare of power from him, she’d known Morgan had changed, and as she watched him engage the enemy, it quickly became apparent just how much.

  Morgan dove, slamming into the ground and buckling it beneath his feet, causing the nearby enemy forces to stagger. He then planted the silver spear in the ground and reached out, snagging a dwarf and ripping him in half. He then used both bloody halves of the Cultist to bludgeon another four fighters to death, then hurled the remains into the crowd with enough force to kill several more.

  They charged him, green energy blazing around them, not at all discouraged by the deaths of their allies, and Morgan was more than happy to meet them head-on. No skills, no abilities, just the sheer power of his unenhanced punches and kicks.

  Bones shattered beneath his blows, and the enemy scattered and fell. They came at him again and again, but Morgan moved so quickly that they couldn’t even hope to keep pace. He dashed among them, ripping arms from their sockets, heads from shoulders, and separating bodies piece by piece.

  He was moving so fast that Grace could only see where he’d been, by the falling bodies spraying blood and gore and the screams of agony from the enemy. Several times, they tried to mount the walls again, but anyone who tried that soon found themselves among the dead.

  None stood in his way, and Grace had a hard time believing that these enemies were really as dangerous or powerful as they’d seemed just moments ago, and yet, they were. Several rank 6
0 fighters all grouped up and came at him at once, intent on ending the man who was ruining their plans. Morgan didn’t even slow down, plowing straight through them with brutal efficiency.

  Ribs shattered, blood sprayed, and the enemy began to break and run, fleeing for the portal. Instead of allowing them to escape, Morgan went after them.

  Grace felt a chill run down her spine as she saw several fighters try to surrender, only to have Morgan rip them limb from limb.

  “I have to stop him,” she whispered, already beginning to move, only to feel a hand on her shoulder.

  She started spinning, already preparing an attack, when she saw Katherine standing beside her, a grim expression on her face.

  “Don’t,” Katherine said, and Grace knew what she meant.

  “But they’re trying to surrender,” Grace protested. “They’re running!”

  “They wouldn’t have shown us the same mercy had we done the same,” Katherine said coldly, watching the slaughter below. “And if he falls, they’ll come right after us once more. What he’s doing might seem cruel or even barbaric, but it’s necessary. We’re at war, and in war, one must do things they find distasteful.”

  “But…” Grace began, only to be cut off by another voice.

  “Leave him be,” Elyssa said, limping up onto the wall, supported by Ragnar and Gilderon. “Shedra had us trapped for nearly two weeks. Killed good men and my friend, Hilda. They’ve killed over a dozen high-ranking officials and betrayed their own countrymen. These creatures consigned themselves to serving a beast, the very same who killed my father. They do not deserve mercy, do not deserve to live.”

  Grace turned back, watching the slaughter once more. The initial awe of Morgan’s immense power had distracted her at first, but now, she felt only horror at what she saw. Yes, these were the very same soldiers who’d been trying to kill them just moments ago, but they’d tried to surrender or escape.