Boundless Chronicles

Chapter 40: The Spires of Aethelgard, I

Dawn broke over the High Capital in a pale curtain of silver ether light.

The Central Plaza of the Spires of Aethelgard was packed with over three hundred entrants, divided into sixty distinct teams. High above the plaza, five colossal obsidian towers pierced the sky like giant stone lances, connected by narrow suspended bridges that hummed with containment runes.

This was the entrance to the Regional Qualification Trial.

Cadets from the premier academies strutted through the marble square, clad in gilded plate armor, their family heraldry glowing on their cloaks. Surrounding them were private mercenary squads hired by rival merchant houses, their eyes cold and alert.

"Look at the density of their gear," Gideon remarked, his hand resting beneath his dark cloak on the hilt of his silver rapier. "That team on the left is wearing Tier 1 Aethelgard Mithril armor. Their physical defenses are twice ours."

"Mithril armor is heavy," Noël replied, adjusting the collar of his trench coat. "It reduces agility by fifteen percent on narrow footholds."

Lyra held her leather tool pouch tightly against her waist, while Elara stood stoically with her Radiant Lancer spear wrapped in grey cloth.

Beside them stood Julian Falcrest, dressed in shining gold-and-white armor, his broadsword strapped to his waist. He looked around the plaza with a haughty sneer, though his knuckles were white where he gripped his belt.

"Listen to me, vagrants," Julian barked in a low voice. "Once we enter the first tower, you follow my lead. My father may have given you Salvage Rights, but I command the Falcrest banner."

"Julian," Noël said without looking at him.

"What?"

"The team standing by the third archway. The five men in Sterling silver armor."

Julian glanced toward the archway. Five broad-shouldered warriors stood in formation, wearing the silver crest of Marquess Sterling. Their faces were hidden behind closed visor helmets, and their broadswords were bound with dark leather wraps.

"What about them?" Julian muttered. "They're Sterling retainers."

"They aren't retainers," Noël noted flatly. "Look at their foot posture. Their heels are turned inward at thirty degrees. That's the vanguard stance of the Blood-Hound Mercenaries."

Julian froze, his haughty expression faltering slightly.

"You're certain?"

"In the outer Sectors, Blood-Hounds execute their targets within the first five minutes of spatial deployment," Noël said. "When the transfer gate opens, they won't head for the upper objective. They'll come straight for your throat."

Julian swallowed hard, his hand tightening around his sword hilt.

"Then... what's the plan?"

"Stay three paces behind me."

Tiiiing!

A thunderous bell echoed across the plaza from the Central Spires.

[Regional Qualification Trial: 'The Spires of Aethelgard']

Category: Regional Advancement / High Capital

Difficulty: Tier 1: Extreme

Clear Conditions: Ascend the Five Spires, claim the Keystone Seals from the upper altars, and reach the Central Sky-Platform within two hours.

Elimination: Falling from the bridge conduits or reaching zero stamina triggers automatic teleportation out of the Trial ground.

Ti-ri-ring!

[Channel #809-Tally Status: LIVE]

[Current Viewers: 18,200]

Tally hovered close to Noël's trench coat collar, its brass monocle glinting.

"Boss! The broadcast feed is fully synchronized! Observers in the upper domain are placing preliminary ranking bets!"

Noël ignored the notifications.

Ku-ku-ku-dung!

A massive ring of emerald light erupted from the Central Plaza floor, Swallowing all three hundred entrants in a flash of Spatial Transfer.

The transfer was instantaneous.

Thump!

Noël's boots landed on a narrow stone walkway suspended eight hundred feet above the cloud layer. Cold wind howled through the abyss, threatening to throw anyone off balance.

Behind them stood the lower entrance of the First Spire, a vast, hollow obsidian tower filled with crumbling stone staircases and floating platform conduits.

Gideon, Lyra, Elara, and Julian materialized beside him in sequence.

"Kuh... the wind pressure here is intense," Gideon muttered, widening his stance on the narrow walkway.

Before Julian could even draw his broadsword, five Streaks of silver light materialized forty paces ahead of them on the same walkway.

The Sterling retainers.

The disguised Blood-Hound Strike Team.

Their leader didn't offer a challenge or state his name. He drew a notched black-iron greatsword and pointed it directly at Julian's chest.

"Target confirmed," the leader growled, his voice muffled behind his visor. "Eliminate Falcrest's team."

Whooooosh!

All five Blood-Hounds surged forward along the narrow stone bridge. Their heavy boots struck the stone with terrifying force as they accelerated.

"They're coming!" Julian yelled, panic creeping into his voice as he fumbled to draw his broadsword. "Form a shield wall!"

"No shield wall," Noël commanded, stepping past him.

He drew his Aethelgard combat blade with his right hand and opened his left eye fully.

His pupil burned with deep violet Gyre Ether.

Through his vision, the narrow stone bridge was more than a physical walkway. The containment runes beneath its surface formed a distinct grid. According to the First Spire's trial archives from the first timeline, its bridges were built with kinetic weight-triggers designed to filter out heavy armor units.

If more than three hundred pounds of Pressure landed on a single stone slab, the slab would drop three inches, releasing a localized blast of compressed air.

The Blood-Hounds were charging in heavy iron plate.

"Gideon, Elara! Step onto the left rune line!" Noël ordered.

Gideon and Elara reacted instantly, shifting their feet toward the left edge of the bridge.

The five Blood-Hounds crossed the twenty-foot mark, their heavy iron boots landing together on the central stone slab.

Click.

The slab dropped three inches into the bridge frame.

Tiiiing!

[Kinetic Trap Triggered!]

Kaaaa-booom!

A powerful blast of compressed air erupted from the bridge floor beneath the charging mercenaries.

"W-What?!" the lead Blood-Hound roared as the upward blast shattered their momentum.

Two of the mercenaries were hurled into the air. Their iron plate armor caught the howling abyss wind as they tumbled over the railing and disappeared into the fog below.

[Entrant 'Sterling Retainer #4' has been eliminated from the Trial!]

[Entrant 'Sterling Retainer #5' has been eliminated from the Trial!]

The remaining three Blood-Hounds drove their swords into the stone floor, barely managing to anchor themselves against the wind. Their visors turned toward Noël in disbelief.

Julian stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

"How... how did you know that slab was trapped?!"

"I read the floor," Noël lied.

He didn't give the remaining mercenaries a chance to recover.

'Void-Weaver's Tread.'

Pft!

His frame blurred. A rapid Spatial Leap carried him directly behind the lead Blood-Hound's unsteady stance.

Noël drove his Aethelgard combat blade through the exposed joint beneath the man's shoulder plate, channeling violet ether directly into the armor's Core Circuit.

Puuu-shk!

"Gaaah!"

Blue sparks erupted from the mercenary's chest. His stamina bar plunged to zero almost instantly.

[Entrant 'Sterling Retainer #1' has been eliminated!]

Noël pulled his blade free and stepped back as the man's body dissolved into teleportation light.

He turned his violet eye toward the final two Blood-Hounds. They were scrambling backward, their earlier confidence replaced by disbelief.

"Your turn," Noël said.