The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 542: The Final Charge

Several hours later, even the illusory world of clouds dimmed to the passing of time. As they fought on and on, Oscar understood more of their strength and abilities. Krowe, the shielder, focused on great defense, was able to endure Oscar's heavy blows for a good duration. The Meld power laid in the beast anima inside the shield, constantly swallowing air until it reached a critical point and unleashed it all in a destructive blow. The swordsman Alphos was the main offense, his swordsmanship on par with Phillip's. His Meld power allowed his sword to dissipate into thin air and re-emerge, striking behind any layer of defense. It seemed to have a duration before it could be used again, evident in how Erden blocked and repelled the strikes.

As for Loges, the illusionist, Oscar had no clue. During the entire battle, he failed to find even a trace of Loges, his Eliren Breaker only able to peel away enough for him to counter and fight against Alphos and Krowe, who annoyingly shifted back and forth under the cover of the illusions. If only he knew how to find Loges in this mess. Frustrated, Oscar gathered his Eirin and roared, shaking the illusory world with his Ripple Shroud. Krowe covered his body behind his shield, and Alphos sliced through the quaking shockwave.

Placing his hand over his fresh cuts, Oscar scorched them with fire, sweating from his brow and clenching his teeth to mask the pain. His enemies fared no better, clearly weary from the struggle as chests heaved desperately for air. Their pained faces and ragged, bloody clothes weren't enough for Oscar. He wanted to keep going but stopped, his and Erden's Ein nearly spent despite using his Ein Awaken as much as possible.

One by one, the clouds vanished, and the world distorted and twisted. Suddenly, he was back in the real world, his worry lessening at seeing his friends healthy, wounded, but alright. Oscar glared at the other side, spotted the pesky Loges, and quickly used the little bits of Ein to fire a flaming Golden Breaker. To his disappointment, the enemy was ready for a surprise attack, and Krowe blocked his blow immediately. After a short exchange of hostile stares, Oscar lifted his fist and ordered the retreat, needing time to rest and heal.

Tired from an entire day of fighting, Oscar plopped down and rested on the soft grass, tickling the sides of his cheeks after drinking an elixir, bandaging himself up, closing his eyes, and meditating. His core hungrily devoured as much as possible, and he nearly fell asleep if not for the messenger calling for him again. Cursing under his breath, he brushed off the blades of grass and joined Phillip and Gavir at the usual meeting spot, his mood turning sour at the lack of food.

"Phillip, are you alright?" Out of the two, Phillip suffered the most grievous wounds that showed underneath the heavy bandages. Oscar worried his newly reunited friend might be on the verge of death and tossed him several healing elixirs.

"These wounds are quite deep and teeming with the enemy's Ein. It will take me a few days to recover fully." Phillip coughed out blood, paling more and more. His once strong grip shivered on the sword's handle, and his other hand graciously accepted the elixirs. He seemed lively and grinned despite the horrific injuries. "I may be wounded, but at least I killed Hajen. One day was enough for me to see through his sword. Lord Rudinberg arrived in time to save me."

To the side, Gavir rubbed the scar along his nose and frowned. He wasn't wearing his usual armor but a robe, and Oscar spotted a wound on his shoulder. He tossed some healing elixirs to Gavir, who rejected them and drank his own. "It would have all fallen apart without Margrave Terr fending off the enemy. The Pavilion Master made the best choice to send you here. If not, I fear the consequences of what could have been."

"If only we had a few more Grade Eights on our side. Instead, we have two ungrateful fools on our side." Phillip's pale face went red, clearly angered to the extreme, something Oscar never witnessed. The two ungrateful ones were undoubtedly Isabella and Aurora, who tagged along with Gilbert to train in the Bloodlands, the main faction of the Primaere in control.

"It's a miracle we're holding on this far. We also owe it to whoever devised the plans to enhance our airships and weaponry. Despite being outnumbered, our fleet is about equal to the enemy's. Our highest prodigies may have left, but we gained a genius inventor and the powerful Margrave." Gavir cheered, his smile instantly turning into a grimace as he held his wounded shoulder.

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"Enough praise. Let's discuss tomorrow." No one knew that the genius inventor who gave the Pavilion the blueprints for many powerful weaponry was himself, other than a few. He intended to keep it that way and brushed the topic aside.

Gavir stiffened and turned stern, frowning. "Hajen is dead, so his army will be under another's charge. The death of a commander has great effects on the greater whole. The impact will incite anger but also worry. However, Phillip's current state stops us from capitalizing on it."

"Meaning?" Oscar asked.

"They won't make a move. We've injured each other. The battles for the next few days will simply be light clashes until they reorganize and we recover." Gavir spoke over Phillip's coughs. "The enemy will be the one to start the spark once they're ready. Keep our senses sharp and observe. The key will lie in how we fight when the day comes."

"Sorry, if I wasn't so injured, we could have attempted something tomorrow." Phillip placed the blame on himself, lowering his head in depression.

"We're all injured. Focus on the final day." Oscar stood up to leave.

"You look as if you have an idea. Mind telling us?" Gavir asked.

"If I can finish it by whenever the day arrives, I'll kill them all and aid the center army like planned." Oscar wandered back to his campsite. Several of the soldiers and his Black Aegis Order members looked at him, their gaze filled with admiration. His draw against insurmountable odds today had a drastic effect on the morale. Unlike yesterday, many gathered around the fires and chatted with great liveliness, patting each other on the back for a job well done. Cutting in between the groups, he sat down near Fred and Emily, the two already sleeping in each other's embrace, blissfully unaware of the jeers around them.

He scoffed and settled himself by the flames, stoking it to let the embers fly out. The increased heat could not replace the warmth he desperately sought. While his skin and hair were dry, it failed to fill in the desire in his heart that cried out in deep yearning, the need to see Avril. The starry night was especially beautiful tonight. He believed Avril was under the same sky, staring up like him. That put his mind at peace for now.

The next morning, the army gathered again under Oscar's command and set out for the third day, marching with Gavir's forces. As the remnants of Phillip's men and ships hastened their speed, leading from the forefront, he felt what they were doing was wrong and stared intently at Gavir, who merely shrugged as if saying not to blame him. Swallowing his grievances, Oscar held back from moving forward and respected Phillip's wishes to use his remaining forces to buy time for the next few days.

At the moment, Phillip was resting behind, recovering from his injuries. Replacing him was Eleanor, and she seemed quite vicious, strangling several foes in her way akin to Avril's style of fighting. Compared to the previous two days, today was relatively quiet, lacking the initiative and drastic actions to control the flow of war. The enemy also sent forth the remnants of Hajen's army, seemingly uncommitted to today. Still, even if it was lackluster, people lost their lives. The unassuming battle continued for several hours as Oscar bitterly watched the dead pile onto the blood swamps below.

'Hold it in. Hold it in. Hold it in.' Oscar almost lost it and nearly stepped forward before Erden gave him a slight nudge. After a grueling day of watching from the sidelines, the two armies retreated, ending the third day of strife. Eleanor rushed from her army to her and Phillip's temporary residence, not bothering to fix her appearance.

The stalemate continued for the fourth day, the fifth day, and the sixth day. There were nothing but skirmishes as neither force attempted to fight deeper. On the seventh day, Oscar stood on one of the grounded airships, fixated on the enemies resting on the other side. The breeze was unchanged, lazy as ever, but something felt different. He hadn't fought on the harshest battles to be ignorant of what it meant. Tomorrow was the day.

"Alec, can you distribute double the food?" Oscar ordered.

"Double?" Alec, cooking a large pot of soup, asked in confusion. However, he soon narrowed his eyes and nodded. "Understood."

Oscar went around with Alec this time, pouring the soup into their bowls himself. He told every single one of the soldiers under his command that they were doing a great job and to fight well tomorrow. Many seemed to realize his meaning and bowed deeply, declaring they would fight to the bitter end. After their meals, everyone readied themselves, sharpening their blades and meditating to hone their Ein. It was all he could do for them as their leader.

The night went by, and the two suns started their ascent.

Finally, it was the seventh day, and already the land was full of the scent of blood. This time, he and Gavir set out with all of their armies and ships, no longer holding back, and prepared for the last confrontation. Oscar rode out to the front to the gazes of the others, and Erden roared, gathering all attention onto him. Facing his soldiers, he raised his shield, beat his chest, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "On me!"