Chapter 296: Finis

Ares had arrived after the horn blared so it was strange to see both sides kick off the fight without any sort of indicator. Ares was almost entirely unprepared for the speed they moved at... Because his cultivation base was poor! Keeping track of this was extremely difficult as is so he used his divine sense to get a better view. Now he really had to hope the match didn't last forever otherwise he would tire himself out long before he could spectate the whole thing from start to finish. Fortunately only Edgerton was sitting around and actively doing nothing. Well he wasn't staring at the sky or anything, and was actively polishing his guitar, but in terms of contributing to the fight? He seemed to believe he wasn't needed so long as Eagerton was doing his thing with his Plunder flintlock treasure and notebook. Edgerton's trust was evidently not misplaced as Eagerton was single handedly taking on three opponents on at once while the rest of his team were safeguarding the talisman from the remaining two. Eagerton looked to be surrounded and heavily outnumbered but he seemed more pre-occupied with whatever he weas staring at in his book. He tapped the butt of the pen he was holding against his chin and glared intently at a specific line in his notes that he couldn't quite get over. Something about it felt off and he needed to readjust it to fit the general flow of everything around it... But surely this shouldn't have been important right now?! All three of his assailants had launched attacks straight at him while he was busy digging his nose into his own poetic creations! There was a Shove Earth, spear attack, and Mistral Shrapnel all closing in on Eagerton from three different directions and each attack was looking brutal.

The cultivators here were all, at minimum, at 9th stage of aspect assimilation and most were in the transition realm. Eagerton himself was towards the lower end of the spectrum, due to his obsession with writing detracting from his overall time spent cultivating, at the 10th stage of aspect assimilation. Funnily enough, his brother was in the exact same boat, their cultivation bases were exactly the same, and the distance between them and the transition realm was also roughly equal. They could both very well ascend to the next realm after this fight depending on how much they invested into it... So Edgerton was basically guaranteed not advancing due to his inactivity... But that was beside the point, the issue here was that Eagerton wasn't giving the oncoming attacks due respect as they were all coming right from the bodies of transition realm cultivators. Normally this should have been a pretty significant complication, and a normal cultivator would struggle all the way up to their inevitable death, but who was Eagerton, exactly? Some pushover that couldn't even beat a few shmucks a couple stages above him? It wasn't to the same extent as someone like Ares, Enyo, or Aejaz, but he was a prodigy who could defy cultivation limits here and there too!... Although right now he really was more concerned with his syllabic woes and trying to fit in the appropriate replacement word that was both meaningful and rhythmic in the appropriate sentence... So how was he supposed to solve both sets of issues plaguing him at once? Well he had to work hard to figure out this creative conundrum in the book without any shortcuts, that was unavoidable, but when he did he could celebrate his victory over writer's block with an art.

"Breakthrough, Huzzah!"

Oddly specific though the requirement to even use this art was, solving writer's block somewhere in his book and coming up with an answer to a narrative or linguistic complication, that just made it all the more powerful in return. It wasn't an art he could just use whenever he wanted and, more often than not, he failed to find the inspiration necessary to activate this art in the first place. Again, though, arts were pretty linear in that the more of hassle they were to chant / channel, the better they tended to be. As such, given the esoteric and unreliable nature of this art, combined with the decently lengthy chant, it was only natural that this art was going to do wonders. An effervescent lightbulb appeared directly above Eagerton, flickered on and shone bright, and then instantly shattered, letting out a shockwave that sent ripples through the universe. Eagerton stood in the eye of the storm as the blast raced through the arena and pummelled every single foe without missing a beat.

Of Eagerton's attackers, the man who had unfortunately tried his luck in close range with the spear had been severed directly in half by the wave due to his close proximity to the origin of he art. The woman who threw the Shove Earth art was the next closest and every single bone below her neck and above her knees was broken simultaneously by the wave, turning her mid section into a jelly-adjacent texture as she crumpled to the floor. The chucker of the Mistral Shrapnel got away with the least injuries of the trio but had still been kicked around by the wave and was suffering internal injuries that would eventually lead to his death. The bleeding was profuse, and he'd lost the ability to make any non-trivial movements, but he was alive and going to live the longest of the three attackers so that was good for him at least. It meant he could maybe try to regroup by waddling over to the other teammates so that he could cast some arts in the background. As for the woman with the blendered mid section, she had at most ten seconds before her heart gave way due to the countless bone shards piercing it and was basically already dead.

This would be a fantastic opportunity to push the advantage and end the fight as a team but Eagerton had turned around and was strolling leisurely over to his brother with a broad, incredibly disingenuous, smile and a polite wave. Edgerton knew what this meant, he knew exactly what this meant as he'd seen it a few times before back when he actually lived under the same roof as this insufferable daydreamer. Though Eagerton so surreptitiously hurled verbal digs at Edgerton by referring to his work as, quote, 'very very... Varied', the bastard would occasionally come searching for Edgerton to use him as a mood setter. Edgerton's musical prowess would enable Eagerton to set the scene in his head by treating Edgerton's work as a leitmotif for his ideas. The arts, literature, music, etc... overlapped often and Eagerton made use of his brother's talents frequently... Although it really didn't happen much the other way around.

It's not that Eagerton was too high brow to contribute to his brother's songs or anything, he even gladly offered to many a time, it's just that Edgerton wanted to do it all himself. It was a kind of pride in his work that led him to this decision but not one to be confused with arrogance or derision, he just wanted everything he produced to be all his. He didn't want a ghost-writer and it was to the point that even harmless suggestions from his brother were ignored flat out. Part of this stemmed from one incident in which Eagerton actually had a brilliant idea that Edgerton wanted nothing more than to use in his lyrics but, regrettably, it never felt right. He hadn't earned it so it left a bitter taste in his mouth every time he sung it which only made him more and more annoyed that he hadn't dedicated enough time to his lyricism such that he could come up with it himself. Had he spent another few days, weeks, or even months slaving away over the song maybe he would have found that special little sentence, perfectly crafted, all by himself. That was real pride, not just singing someone else's hard work. In that sense, to be fair to Eagerton, it was a bit different on his end. His books never came with audio on the side or anything so Edgerton's assistance never really manifested in Eagerton's work. At least not overtly anyway as Eagerton insisted it did because every creation that came flowing through him as a result of the music was something he attributed to Edgerton more than himself. They'd debate such topics occasionally, mostly centred around artistic philosophies that were ultimately redundant, but it was definitely the highlight of their relationship as a whole and general interactions outside this were mundane or one note.

That aside, that puppy dog appearance of Eagerton's meant he wanted to collab in some way. And not in the sense that he wanted to form a band as he'd once joked about back during April fool's day a few years back. The moron suggested they start a band called 'AG/DG', which were the two letters in their name that differed after the initial 'E', forming a reference to another relatively well known band. Whilst Edgerton did find the image he mustered in his brain of his brother singing absolutely hilarious, the whole suggestion was definitely a joke and not something to be taken seriously as the creative clashes that would arise from such a stunt would lead to fall out that was borderline nuclear between them. If there was one thing that was true of both brothers, it's that they were obstinate as they were passionate. They would not last more than five minutes in a room together if they were actively trying to work on the same piece as one another as they would butt heads and never back down. Sure they made suggestions for one another, or were willing to in Eagerton's case, but if it came to putting their foot down and insisting then the entire manor they lived in would suffer day and night at the hands of their incessant squabbling. So no, that wasn't what Eagerton was after, thankfully, and all he wanted was to perform a combination art.

Which one?

Hell if Edgerton knew! There was no such thing as any 'pre-determined' combination arts that these two knew. They'd never even used the same one more than once as it just wasn't their style. They had more of a jazz session approach to their combination arts and just went with the flow of whatever the other person was doing without interrupting it... Because if they were allowed to take charge then they would just start disagreeing with one another endlessly mid combat. Instead, they just overlapped their ideas on top of each other in a bid for supremacy and the resulting discordance was usually more than enough to accidentally kill the foes somewhere in the middle of it all. There was a particularly infinitesimal chance that, maybe, just maybe, they would get along during one such combination art and, when they did, it was truly a moving sight. The power of the combination art skyrocketed and was less like multiplying their individual powers by 1.5 and was more akin to multiplying it by upwards of 5 times in total. Teamwork made the dreamwork and when they weren't impeding one another they were a rather strong duo... But that almost never happened. They'd done this a few times already and only achieve such a state twice. It was neat when things went well but they never expected it to and went in with the belief they were going to have to fend off each other's advances to take control of the artistic direction.

As for how such a bizarre concept worked, Eagerton was on naming duty while Edgerton figured out the mana channelling. They casted it together in their own way, Eagerton via his book and Edgerton via his guitar, and then all hell broke loose in whatever manner they deemed fit. The main reason this worked was thanks to Eagerton's unique aspect as it wasn't strict at all when it came to on the fly adjustments to arts that were pre-existing. Edgerton was the base of the art, more often than not, and Eagerton the accompaniment that added some extra flare whenever he felt it appropriate. Edgerton merely sighed and agreed wordlessly to the combination art by plucking his guitar and sending a wave of mana towards his brother via a soundwave to kick things off. As the mana merged, and Edgerton went about channelling it through his guitar, Eagerton sunk deep into thought about what to name their improvised masterpiece before settling on a simple pun he rather liked due to the imagery it conjured within his brain. He had a direction with which to toy with and experiment further so he was already content enough with the premise to start and chanted aloud.

"Bloombox!"

Edgerton took in the chant and played along as he devised a serenade on the spot, one that was heavy hitting and thumped in the listener's very soul as seeds rained down onto the arena from above. These seeds sunk underneath the floor before the arena cracked and multiple colourful boomboxes rose up out of the ground. They further amplified Edgerton's vocal and instrumental performances, spreading his talent far and wide throughout the coliseum. With every strum of his guitar and with every sentence that passed by his lips the boomboxes grew a small flower atop their outer frame and soon the flowers merged with the metal. No longer were the sounds of Edgerton's artistic expression being played through mere speakers but, now, Eagerton's floral arrangement had become the medium through which his brother's music bloomed. The flower's hummed Edgerton's harmony and swayed gently in tune to the rhythmic sensation. The sound emanating from these Bloomboxes spread far and wide, serenading every listener aside from those it was targeting as they did not fare quite so well. The song dug deep into the opposing team's ears and planted itself within their body like fresh new seeds, waiting to germinate. These seeds pulsed with every soundwave that watered them, eventually blooming within the body acting as soil for its rapid growth. From the opposing team's mouths, ears, eyes, and sweat pores dotted around their bodies, an array of flowers sprouted with a resounding blossom that chimed along to the current chorus. With every pulse of these new flowers the body they were attached to suffered as they too had become Bloomboxes, spreading the sounds of sweet and honeyed romance via their body's reverberations. The pollen of sound spread further and more flowers gradually appeared over their limbs, progressively turning them into a flower bed of quaint music that resembled a theme akin to that of mother nature discovering love for the first time.

It was a rather captivating sight and Eagerton was almost tempted to let it be. This was one of the rare times him and his brother actually aligned in their creative vision and struck an accord, so to speak. Alas, Eagerton had his own thoughts on the matter and had been planning a grand finale to this tournament from the day he first entered, if not before then too. Though he did somewhat regret stealing the spotlight here, it was deemed necessary! Plus Edgerton wouldn't care much, he'd had his fun already and was only really going along with this to satisfy Margaret up on the top floor of the coliseum anyway. He'd much rather be hanging around his groupies back at Musician's Wanted where he didn't have to cater his musical talents to the masses. He'd been extremely courteous in not turning this serenade into a screaming eulogy of impassioned desire so that was enough for him today and he felt tired from pivoting to suit everyone else's tastes. He couldn't complain though as the end result was satisfactory. Just because he didn't prefer this style of music that didn't mean he would never touch it, just that he'd do so infrequently. As this was more of a casual experiment than anything Edgerton actually valued from an artistic standpoint, he was fine with Eagerton taking over and doing as he pleased. Sure this combination art would fade away and wind up being mostly irrelevant forever more but, in many ways, that suited Edgerton just fine as it had already done its job and left a lasting impression on all those who saw it.

As for Eagerton, he was excited. Everything he'd done in this tournament up until this point was all for this! Every art he'd cast, every creation he'd brought to life, every word of every line of every page would all come together to finalise this written samsara cycle. His first dot of ink on the very first page marked the beginning and the brilliant strokes of cursive penmanship on the final page heralded the end of a handcrafted journey through the mind of a inventive virtuoso. Eagerton walked up to his flowery foes with his book firmly held in one of the two hands clasped behind his back. Eagerton came to a halt and swung his book holding hand around to his front while letting the wind blow the pages from left to right as he stared at his foes from between each and every piece of paper that flickered past him. So many countless ideas darted past his sight, ideas that he'd put blood sweat and tears in formulating and even actualising via his magic. This book was a veritable treasure trove of Eagerton's proudest creations as of late and it served as an anthology detailing his creative processes regarding artistry and / or combat, and yet it served a bigger purpose right now. Though each individual entity that was detailed in that book and brought to life was relevant in its own way, the sum was going to be greater than its parts as the final page was laid to rest on the back cover side of the book. Snap. With a flex of his hand Eagerton shut the book and chanted with a crystal clear voice,

"Akashic Conclusion!"

The raw essence of every word and every world residing within Eagerton's book came to life in a vibrant burst of colour and splendour. Once more, every art and every single piece of magic this book had once summoned was summoned yet again in a twisted, amorphous blob. Even the horde of agitated chickens from way back when contributed to this congregation of magic as several beaks were strewn about through the entangled mess of objects amongst flowers, boomboxes, bottled lightning, and other such mystiques of the penman's mind. Eagerton's book, as a whole, was a culmination of his dedication to the artistry that could be found in all things, combat included. Every solution to every problem, every violent whip of language his tongue and mind had bombarded even the most insignificant of opponent with, and every spark of ingenuity that made it beyond his flesh and onto the limitless boundaries of the pages of reality reflected within Eagerton's vision. All of it flowed through a singular line of mana that wove together these individual events into a continuum to form the perfect story. All morals and hidden meanings, all blunt symbolism and raw emotion. Everything was packed into a single send off for this book's very last full stop before he moved onto a new beginning with another, empty, book. Eagerton's expert narration for this book had come to a close and it was finally time to lay a good work of art down to rest where it would remain in everybody's psyche for all eternity. The twists and turns of his irregular and sporadic arts that were each tailored to his own life formed both a lived in fantasy and a compelling documentary of his existence over the last few months and now, at long last, it was time for the reader to experience it all just as he had. There was undeniably an overabundance of intent packed into this amalgamation of creativity but that was the point, what each individual struck by this mass took away was unique and unto their own. Their deaths would be brought about via their comprehension. The death of the author was a rather metaphorical thing but the death of the reader was going to be all too literal as the exceedingly large bundle of indeterminable objects and magics crashed down onto the humanoid plants below.

BBBBBBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

The magic of a good book, for once, did not leave its readers wishing for more. Those who were crushed by the Akashic Conclusion were sent to the resurrection platform with no room for negotiation as they'd already been debilitated by the Bloombox art from before so blocking this as well was simply an impossibility... Not that they would have been able to regardless as this art packed far too much of a punch to resist in conventional ways. The fight had been one-sided from the get go as, unlike in the outer court tournament, there was no real opponent who could be the 'Mako' to Eagerton's unobstructed rampage. All of the aces from the other four major clans in Vraizon were younger and had taken part in the outer court tournament so he was effectively free to run rampant with no opposition. It's not that the people in this tournament weren't strong in their own right, it's just that Eagerton was in class above them and Edgerton existed too. The brothers were roughly equally as powerful as each other, and would have a win rate of fifty fifty if they were to spar often, so it's not like anyone else even stood a chance if they worked their way through Eagerton. There had been a situation in which Eagerton had gone all out, and wiped what was previously thought to be the strongest team in the tournament off the face of the planet during an earlier round, but even then Edgerton wasn't really needed which just went to show how guaranteed this win was for the sect. He was mostly eye candy for his fans in the audience and his presence was much appreciated by his mother who was painting pictures of her two children as they beat up the competition. If it were up to Edgerton, he would have just sat in a corner the entire time but he'd been pestered into helping out here and there and had bust a few ear drums with gnarly riffs over the course of the tournament to please his mother. Anyway, it was over now and Heaven's Path were going to be declared victors for the second time so that was a positive. Yulo was here watching and would no doubt be very satisfied to receive and another round of rewards for his disciples' excellence.

Ares' divine sense had lasted long enough to watch the fight in its entirety but he was whisked away shortly after by Calla who'd buried him deep in the blankets of his bed again before he could even parse the fact he wasn't at the coliseum anymore. He would have been somewhat interested in watching the speech segment at the end but oh well, it likely wasn't anything important. He might have been thanked by Eagerton, for being his muse one-sided though that affair was, but other than that it would probably just be standard and nothing out of the ordinary.

The next major thing on Ares' to do list was the meeting coming up and, luckily, it looked as though he might be feeling better by then. His rising cultivation meant his susceptibility to the illness that had been plaguing him was lowering by the minute. Throw in the many hot chocolates and he would good as new for the meeting... Not that it would stop Calla from attending anyway. Even putting aside the fact she wanted to take care of him, she was probably going to be snapping pictures of her cub in a leadership position, refuting baseless claims and making a stand like a mini adult. That being said, she technically wasn't supposed to be there and her presence could be construed as a threat so, as much as she wanted to stand around and mind her own business, it was likely she'd have to sneak around and keep hidden. Given her cultivation that would be simple enough but it also meant she'd have to resist the urge to smack the disobedient elders, who weren't happy with Ares, with her poison laden tail.

Ares spent some time sipping on some more hot chocolate and occasionally pressurising the Backfire Bindings until he got bored. There wasn't much for him to vary his current lifestyle with with so he figured he might as well just get some sleep until it was time to maybe cook some food for everyone later. Just as Ares was about to take a nap, there really wasn't much else to do while he was confined to the bed like this thanks to Calla's insistence, Enyo returned from the coliseum, walked into the room, and headed over to Ares. She handed him a letter of some sort, that she presumably received on the way back from the tournament match, which he diligently opened up and read. He scanned the contents and raised his eyebrow before putting it on the bedside cabinet.

"I'm surprised they're going with something on the down low like this. Being the kin of their respective patriarchs means they could have a much bigger celebration if they really wanted to." Ares was referring to the fact that Li Li and Dirk were getting married in the sect and having a small get together, inviting the neighbours and a few clansmen.

Enyo shrugged in response. "It's significant from a clan-merging perspective but it's unlikely the two want to be treated like some kind of spectacle by the rest of their clan. It would seem more like a political thing if they invited literally everybody and then they would need a massive venue on top of that. Having a smaller party amongst the company of friendly individuals is the decision they came to when factoring this in so it's fine, no?"

"Of course, not saying it isn't, I'm just surprised they're doing it so soon. They must have been planning the finer details for a while now then if they'll already be prepared for the ceremony in a few days time." It seemed like Ares was going to be getting involved in one more event before he left for the Federation. Sitll, as it was a small scale thing it likely wouldn't last too long and ought not to delay things by much time if at all. The only real annoyance regarding this spontaneous decision was that Ares was almost definitely going to be asked to cook... Ah well, he hadn't done it properly in a good while and so it would be cathartic to do something more than the basics. He broiled chicken last time for crying out loud! It tasted good but it was rather boring... Ares would make up for it during this event for sure! Plus he'd have enough mana by then to freely utilise the Blade how he wanted to so, although he'd require some mana shot pills and might even get a little exhausted, he was going to be cooking for a large group once more!... Not that that was supposed to be the main attraction, this was still a wedding ceremony at the end of the day... Actually, now that Ares thought about it, who was qualified to hold this ceremony anyway?... Never mind, I think I already know the answer to that question... Ares' eye twitched as the man of many 'talents', more like odd jobs really, was almost definitely going to be the preacher for this event... Rud really did get around...