Chapter 17-427: The Yellow of Fear, Part II

Those who fell to the ground so awkwardly in surprise generally didn’t get the chance to get back up. Every step of hers was coming down before the next one was lifted, always in contact with the ground; Sama didn’t slow down, having mastered this particular lightfoot technique long ago. If she was playing fast and loose with inertia in some ways, there was a mix of heavyfoot anchoring her to the stone of the mountains and totally superhuman strength giving her the physical foundation to do so.

They wouldn’t have been as fast and clean of movement as her in the first place. With King Gravity shutting down all the no-weight effects of lightfoot, and Interdiction turning any flicker-step techniques into flicker-uncontrolled cartwheel tumbles of total surprise, these Heavenly Sky Sect members who’d never fought Forsaken or Powered were getting sudden rude surprises with all their tricks not working, and were only able to rely on pure swordplay and physical power to deal with her.

Needless to say, that was not the best way to deal with her.

“The Golden Hag! The Golden Hag!”

The terrified voices, some of which were cut-off in mid-scream, suddenly realized that all those tales they’d heard from other Sects, and even some of their own surviving sect-mates, weren’t painted tales and exaggerations from the weak and timid. The shining gold of her soul, girt about her Sword, so fast, so vicious, so transcendentally pure and powerful! In their eyes, the colors of the flames about her Sword seemed to become seven raging and hungry dragons, coming for their souls!

The nearby yellow phasma roiled eagerly as their fear mounted with the bloodspray and True Death. The panic spread with that undeterred Song, carrying so freely and effortlessly in the middle of her slaughter, as if it was no effort at all to Sing in the middle of a fight. Her swordplay was a mesmerizing dance, ballet and waltz, an energetic jig and prancing steps, breaking and linedancing, whatever was needed to Kill Them All.

Dragons of fire roiled in the Qi, devoured it, and demanded more as she moved from targets to targets with maximum efficiency and no let-up, Singing as she hacked into the densest masses, and turned wild hackfests into explosions of polyfire and Daoists in multiple pieces.

Her Cackle chased them as they and their fears fled into the phasma, which churned happily to accept both. More distant cries rose as fear piled on fear, became an infection, a contagion... and in the phasma, more fear was more and stronger phobos.

Sama took a look behind her where, miles in the distance, the sky was seething with clouds of congealed Qi as the forces of the Heavenly Sect came shooting her way. Across the many miles, she met the dark eyes of the Daoist in the lead, who was throwing off his arrogance like a wave as lightning crackled off his flying Sword, defying all of Heaven with his display.

Still Singing, still slaughtering, she followed the fleeing disciples into the phasma, and as opposed to swirling to welcome her, the fog seemed to part to let her pass. A few minutes later, the expeditionary force of the Heavenly Sky Sect, under the leadership of one of the three Vice Masters of the Sect, drove in after her.

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“It is said only the dead know no fear,

But the poets, you know they lie.

When oblivion comes, the dead do cringe,

And they wait, they wait to die.

Down you came on your lofty swords,

You joined the Yellow King’s Plan.

You thought you were brave and mighty of will,

But we all saw the truth bared than:

Terror and despair, fear breathing fair,

And the Heavens eat your last sigh.

“Tremble, oOoO, Tremble, She comes...”

A shadow blurred through the yellow mists, polyflames ignited, and screams followed a head as it leapt free of its neck.

“She took your head so you’d know you’re dead,

Fed you right and good to the Land.

Rejoice! She’s happy to dance with you,

And give a Daoist a hand.”

Another disciple screamed as his Sword shattered, and a scythe of flame severed his arm from his shoulder. Bright heart’s-blood jetted out, and the flames were into his chest, devouring his Qi and killing him before the bleeding could be stopped.

“Don’t take it to heart, you’ve done your part,” as flames bored completely through a silk-robed chest.

“She’ll leave you a leg to stand!” Another scream as said limb went flying, and flames raged up the owner like he was an oiled torch.

“Laugh and join the wonderful world

Of a farce and play most grand.

Tremble, oOoO, Tremble, She comes...”

There was a clang as one blur met another, and the Golden Hag smiled into the face of the Vice Master who had finally managed to intercept her. She grinned freely right into his fury, pausing for just that second to let him know he couldn’t force her anywhere, nor keep her in binding, and none of his Techniques were going to work on her.

His students came leaping in with Swords out. His eyes fell on the hand that had closed around his wrist, gleaming golden fire sharper than a blade around a soulclaw the same deadly and shining hue as was around her Sword.

The Whirlwind exploded out, and he went whirling with it, dragged along in an explosion of physical strength and ki usage. Two of the incoming Swords cut into his own body before he could twist out of her grip. She let him go, flinging him into two of the attackers and smashing them back and out, creating an opening she flowed after and through as easily as water.

Metal screamed and exploded behind her as Swords shattered on adamantine, and wounds exploded over the Daoists on the carry-through, the air full of burning multi-hued dragons.

The Vice Master saw her coming and rolled away urgently, bringing his Sword up to block. Steel shrieked, but his Sword held as he used the force to slide further away from the incoming blur of flames.

They were suddenly gone as fast as they’d come, filling the air with the cloying smell of the mana and chi of the impure world.

The yellow phasma swirled thickly in her wake, almost tangible currents of fear running through it now, like yellow veins of terror for them to contemplate.

On the ground, the two senior disciples she had tossed him into lay still, tongues of hungry flame burning deep into their foreheads, leisurely killed in passing.

She was gone once again, his Divine Sense unable to lock on her, even as her Song continued without letup, reverberating everywhere. The phasma itself was thrumming eagerly to hear it, and sensing that, the fear of the Daoists grew, and the phobos came...

There was combat all around as the Heavenly Sky members cut through the incoming phobos regardless. They all had experience against the creatures, and if the Golden Hag was pulling them in deeper into the phasma with her hit-and-run techniques, they were still dealing with the creatures easily.

It was daytime, after all, and everyone knew that the phobos gathered most strongly at night...

------

She killed them, and they followed. Their teamwork improved, they started covering for one another more effectively, and if she still managed to take out on or two at a time, there were reinforcements coming from behind who hadn’t seen what she could do, lacked the fear, and were ready to fight.

Ignorance was bliss sometimes.

And then... the phasma opened up in front of them as the lead elements chased after her, and suddenly, somehow, they were out of the yellow fog.

The sight was astonishing enough to slow the Sect members down to almost a halt as the lead scouts looked around, discovering that they were able to see ahead of them for miles across the scrubby grass of the Plateau, and they could perceive the rolling walls of phasma extending far, far into the distance.

The air was thick with the impure foulness of mana and chi, and... there were dead phobos burning unwhite around.

A lot of dead phobos burning unwhite around...

Dozens, scores, and then hundreds more Heavenly Sky disciples came racing out of the phasma, and slowed to a halt, looking around in astonishment.

They’d seen the vivic fire chase away the phasma, and smelled the unclean reek of its passage and as it devoured their fellow Daoists. But this...

The phasma had been cleared for miles and miles. There was a trail burned through it clear to the horizon! There weren’t corpses burning all the way there... but there were for a big chunk of it.

It was like... something had fought the phobos all the way here...

The Vice Master had a sudden and terrible foreboding, and the phasma thickened perceptibly near him as dread stole across him. His Divine Sense went out... and found nothing.

Nothing, even as they got up off the ground only a couple hundred yards in front of the Heavenly Sky disciples.

Arcing around them, men and women they couldn’t Sense, only see, rose from simple cover and shallow pits, and as they did, their Weapons burned to life.

Banefire the color of Daoist blood. Unwhite fire. The devouring flames of what they called Holiness.

Heads turned as the line of Forsaken extended around them, back into the phasma to either side, as the yellow fog burned and ignited and seemed to evaporate under cold, hard eyes, and the vivic flame that seemed to flash-flame it away in a broad swathe.

The un-Powered with their magical Weapons, grim eyes, and many, many scars moved in smoothly behind them, closing the circle several warriors deep, led by a dozen males, not all of them human, with Helices spinning around them.

The Void Brothers, the lethal assassins of the Forsaken.

The Vice Master didn’t even bother trying to escape, holding his Sword steady as he faced these once-commoners down. A few of the more alert disciples tried to fly, and naturally could not. The phasma already shut down dimensional movement, rippling the dimensions here with an alien, otherworldly Presence that accepted no challenges to its power. He even noticed some particularly sharp disciples familiar with the Earth Dao trying to escape by burrowing away, and the ground below simply wouldn’t get out of the way.

That damn Song, which had faded to poignant notes in the background, now seemed to rise, and soft whispers joined it as it rang out.

“Waiting, waiting, so very long,

A hundred miles to join this Song.

Hacked and hewed through Fear we came,

Across the leagues to join this game.

The Yellow King now smiles in glee,

He grins, He waits for you to flee.

Your Dread is real and upon your souls,

And Terror thick in the phasma flows!

“Tremble!”

“TREMBLE!”

“Ohhhh oooo ohhhh TREMBLE!”

“TREMBLE!” A storm of howls a magnitude greater than any the Daoists had ever heard resounded from the yellow fog all about, and huge shadows loomed indistinct and anticipatory in the phasma, waiting for them to run.

“WE COME!”

Firearms snapped to shoulders, and powder roared with many flames.