Witnessing barely concealed abject horror warping Spitamaneh's face, the uncanny white-haired youngster shook his head with another sigh, then 'mercifully' deigned to elucidate this seemingly absurd matter.
"While I do love myself a nice mystery every now and then–and although I wouldn't mind deceiving you either–the answer to the question that's no doubt dominating your thoughts right now is a lot more mundane and boring than you'd expect. You see, I've got a little agreement with two adorkable fellows over here..."
Snapping his fingers in a dramatic fashion, two people appeared behind him, to his right and left. Turning to face them, an encouraging grin spread across his lips.
"Kids, you're up!"
As the duo inched forward and shot the Naxsir fleet commander an awkward smile, Spitamaneh felt his mental processes grind to a screeching halt. He knew these two. How could be possibly not? After all, they were the Venerated Ikhshid's treasured descendants!
Not only did he recognize Devashtich and Spandarmad at a glance, but the vast majority of the entire army did as well. In mere moments, the overwhelming, arrogant pressure that they had exuded dwindled, replaced by an air of confusion, doubt and dread.
'What could they possibly be doing here!? Am I hallucinating or being influenced by some sort of illusion? No, it doesn't seem like it...'
As soon as he had recovered from the initial shock, Spitamaneh immediately began to try to wrap his mind around this unforeseen situation. Very quickly, he managed to discard the most obvious potential explanations, as someone as high up in the hierarchy of life as him would not this easily fall under the influence of such means. However, this also indicated that the nature of this whole stand-off could change in far too many ways. It was all dependent on what really was going on here.
'They might be a bit mischievous at times, but they aren't foolish enough to sneak out for no reason. In other words, they were likely sent somewhere on purpose. And the only allied craft that should have come this way is the one which was sent on a secret mission of the highest order! The question is: Were they caught, or did the Venerated Ikhshid intend for them to meet this Heaven's Chosen?'
A somewhat sheepish voice interrupted his plentiful contemplations.
"Sir Spitamaneh, it's been a while! The last time that we saw each other, we had only just advanced to the Celestial Stage... but enough reminiscing for now. I won't hide it from you: We've joined Theodore Winter's side. There is no need for us to fight, though. Magnanimous as he is, he's allowed us the chance to convince you to come around and make the right choice, just like we have!"
Devashtich's somewhat clumsy, yet genuine speech caused Spitamaneh's brows to furrow in unease. Even a complete simpleton could tell that something was absolutely not right here.
Whilst he was patiently awaiting whether or not the twins had anything else to say for themselves, Spandarmad spoke out next.
"This offer also extends to all of you, brave soldiers! We don't want to battle you and witness your lives getting wasted unnecessarily. We can all be on the same team here: Just join our Master!"
Although she had intended to help, her choice of address at the very end shattered whatever vanishingly small possibility of a peaceful resolution there may have originally been. As both the Naxsir army and their commander regarded the duo with melancholic, gloomy looks, Devashtich angrily glared at his sister.
"Well done, Darma! Truly, you've outdone yourself! Didn't we talk about all of this before? You promised that you'd leave it all to me! Now, they're all going to die!"
Snorting in annoyance and rolling her eyes, Spandarmad crossed her arms.
"If they're stupid enough to go against our Master, then that's what they deserve!"
Wanting to rip his hair out in frustration yet suppressing the impulse, her brother's expression darkened markedly.
"Sister dearest... In case you forgot, we also fought him!"
Instead of acknowledging any mistake on her part, Spandarmad merely shook her head and sneered haughtily.
"So? I never claimed that we're particularly smart!"
Popping a vein, Devashtich had to muster all of his strength to hold back the urge to strangle her right then and there. Fury blazing in his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, then grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the battlefield-to-be without mercy, not listening to any of her complaints.
"Hey, let me go! I'm not done yet!!"
Amidst her objections, the two disappeared soon after, leaving the two sides confronting each other to their own devices. To bring things back on the right track, the 'host' of this anticipated event cleared his throat.
"Ahem, apologies about that. They might be a riot, but reading the room is definitely not their strength. Well, I did promise them that I'd allow them to attempt an amicable de-escalation, but they blew it themselves–that's on them. Now then, friends from afar! What say you we get this all properly started?"
Having stayed silent all throughout the preceding clown show, Spitamaneh sized up his soon-to-be opponent once more, then gave a curt nod. His emotions had been festering within him for too long–and it was high time to ruthlessly vent them all.
"Very well. For enslaving our people, I will make you pay! Baray farn!"
"Baray farn!"
Echoing their commander as if they were all one in spirit, the entire army shot forward like a world-encompassing, black tsunami of savage violence. From all sides, they threatened to overwhelm and drown the comparatively small number of defenders.
"If glory is what you seek, then a glorious defeat we shall deliver. And this shall be our stage!"
Not yet the least bit pressured despite his foe already accumulating his power in an effort to strike him down, Theodore activated his Lesser Void Guarding Array and sectioned off the very edges of Pytho that they were all currently located in. He further reinforced this area, to the point where it would be just as difficult to shatter his Compound Array than to damage the 'prison' that he had confined them to.
The change was instant, and took all of the Naxsir by surprise. Even Spitamaneh had been caught unawares, entirely unable to prevent this trap from being sprung. Now, he had become Theodore's sole cellmate, and been deliberately separated from his people. This only served to strengthen his resolve, though.
'No matter what price I'll have to pay, I will defeat him! For the Naxsir. For the great undertaking. And for myself!'
As he allowed his Divine Energy to flow freely, the world changed. Literally. He hadn't yet attacked, but his devastating aura warped the spacetime that they were in. If it hadn't been reinforced to become countless times more resilient, then only a vast expanse of Lesser True Void would have been left behind in the wake of Spitamaneh basically just tensing his muscles.
Devashtich and Spandarmad had made it to the Celestial Stage, yes–but they were stuck at the beginning of its second realm, finding it near impossible to progress any further. And arriving at the pinnacle of that very realm was what would provide a cultivator who made it that far with the most enormous boost in power hitherto.
Spitamaneh–from what Theodore could tell–should have made it to the 4th realm already. The difference between him and them was far more than a mere two realms, or even a whole cultivation stage. It was like night and day! And that was exactly why his host couldn't take it all too easy this time.
He might have broken through thrice since he had fought the twins, but that alone and the now almost 'divine' status of his Energy and physical body would not nearly suffice to bridge the gap. Yet they enabled him to go a little bit crazy.
Strengthening himself via Energy suffusion was nothing new to him, but doing the exact same thing as in all of his previous major battles was vastly different today compared to before. With more powerful Energy and an almost-ascended physique to rely upon, instead of a mere twenty percent increase, he saw an improvement of 150 percent!
But that was far from where he would stop. Forcing himself to endure an enhancement far beyond his physical limits, he doubled it all once more. The price to pay was steep–or it would have been, had his regeneration speed not been too fast to even notice his body constantly being ripped apart all over in trillions of small places at once. Naturally, he felt every single tearing sensation, and all of the pain–yet it didn't bother him much. As long as he didn't accumulate any other injuries, he could keep this state up indefinitely!
'It's not enough. Not even close! As expected, I'll have to rely on my Array to give me a fighting chance.'
Back when he had crushed the twins, he had only been able to get a clear upper hand when he had buffed himself in this manner. This time, it wouldn't be any different. Well, the enhancement would be a little less impressive, as a fair chunk of the Compound Array's output was being used to protect Pytho and his people, as well as to keep the enemy locked in here. But another 'small' ten times increase to all of his Standard Attributes was readily available.
'I better end this quickly–before he gets any more powerful!'
Sensing his foe's circumstances very clearly, Spitamaneh's expression hardened, the resolve to do whatever it takes to come out ahead rooting itself even more firmly in his heart. Exerting his Numen and Divine Energy, he rushed forward, his passage leaving a gaping wound in space. Simultaneously, he conjured countless dimensional rifts and twisted them into the shape of blades, before bombarding Theodore's location with them.
Immediately after, though, he furrowed his brows and turned to the east, where his enemy's figure had appeared out of nowhere. Not wanting to give him even a moment to breathe, he resolutely continued his barrage of spatiotemporal blows, but was met with the same result over and over again.
Theodore was like a ghost. He couldn't even touch his clothes! No matter how rapid his reactions were, he could never really pin him down. It was as if he was teleporting–because that was exactly what he was doing.
From the very beginning, he had intended to fight the Naxsir fleet's commander within the bounds of a world, so that his Intraworld Teleportation Talent could come in handy. Without it... he would genuinely have a hard time. He might even have to flee and fight another day!
As the chase continued on, Spitamaneh soon realized that targeting his attacks was of little use. From a few quick tests, he also came to understand that predicting the spot in which his opponent would next appear didn't go well either. Therefore, he was left with only one option: Indiscriminate bombardment!
'It'll eat into my Divine Energy reserves a bit more, but it won't be an issue in the short term. And best of all, I'm guaranteed to hit him!'
Not one to hesitate in combat, he switched up his strategy immediately, drowning the two's entire 'cell' in dimensional rifts-turned-blades. Within an instant, he saw them cut into multiple layers of ice shields, but feeling their trajectory shift ever so slightly, he frowned.
'Something is interfering with my aim, even if only nigh imperceptibly. And...'
Glancing at a slight cut on his forearm, he grew far more grim than before.
'... there's some sort of recoil involved. Significantly harming him will be a pain.'
Of course, a minor setback like this wouldn't trouble him much. It felt akin to barely more than a mosquito bite, and he recovered from it practically immediately. It was utterly negligible.
Right as he refocused on his endless stream of attacks, he noticed almost impossibly small flakes of snow falling from the skies and enveloping the whole area. From one moment to the next, a merciless blizzard was raging through their entire arena.
When there was only a small number of flakes, he could still completely disregard them, but as more and more of them piled up, he became increasingly alarmed.
'It's not just regular ice! It's faint, but I'm already detecting temporal distortions. I've got to be very careful...'
Shrouding himself in a 'bubble' of innumerable rotating, destructive dimensional rifts, Spitamaneh bought himself some time. As he glanced at Theodore, whose Eternal Ice shields were still being peppered with his own share of attacks, he shrugged off the reflected damage. Plotting new strategies, his countenance turned a shade more murderous.