Jupiter

‘How is he so fast!?’ Synthara said, shocked. This man’s speed was almost as fast as she and the other three Demon Kings when they were at full strength. She could not sense the Throne’s influence on him. ‘He has not even unleashed his Soul Armament yet and he’s this strong!?’ Against such an opponent she could not afford to show weakness. Synthara decided she ought to keep him talking as long as she can to set a trap and assess his strength. He’s clearly a warrior type, best to keep her squishy mage body away from him.

Julius spoke first, though his voice was weak. “Jupiter…you’re here…please save me…”

“Hmph, all of those years spent, and for what? To be left begging for your life? Going so far as to squeal your plan to the enemy? I would kill you for disgusting me, but it seems that you’re already halfway there.” Jupiter looked at the burning tree behind Synthara, its trunk now half the size it used to be. “The Ultimatum has deemed you a failure Julius, you are free to die.”

“N-no…I-I can sti-...”

Jupiter ignored him. “The Ultimatum has given me orders to bring whoever defeated Julius before him. His attitude is annoying but there are few who can defeat him in a fight. The Ultimatum has never ordered an immediate reprisal for the last few guard we lost over the centuries, you must be special to be able to work up his holiness.”

Synthara spoke innocently. “Oh my, the Ultimatum himself is worked up over me? I'm flattered that a god is interested enough in a humble mage such as myself to send an escort for me.”

Jupiter’s smile was grim. “You misunderstand me mage, I wasn't sent here to escort you.” Jupiter pointed his lightning bolt at Synthara. “I am here to kill you.”

“Straight to business? I prefer to take things slow. But if that's the case then you missed your opportunity to do so by talking to me.”

“Assassinations are Juno’s purview, and she’s preoccupied. I got a glimpse from your fight with Julius but I want to see for myself what makes you so special in the eyes of the Ultimatum. Now, before we start the killing, I will tell you the name of the elf who’s going to kill you. I am Jupiter, the oldest and strongest elf alive. Julius does not hold a candle to me, brace yourself.”

Jupiter shot a lightning bolt towards Synthara, who countered by shielding herself with her black wings and having the wings open up and releasing a wave of black flame. Only to find Jupiter behind her again, however, she set a trap with her strings.

Jupiter was cut as he tried to stab Synthara with his lightning bolt and found himself restricted in a web of strings. Synthara used that time to put space between them as she predicted that a musclehead like him was not going to be held back like this. She was correct.

Jupiter easily cut his way out of the trap and wasted no time dashing towards Synthara, letting out a sonic boom in his charge. During that time she summoned two orange flame dragon head familiars that originated from her metal neck crest, who managed to barely deflect Jupiter’s charge by extending and biting into him. Afterwards they exploded.

Synthara used the explosion to hide behind the other side of the tree, only to find Jupiter upon her within seconds with his spear inches from her head.

Synthara quickly exploded in a large black explosion, the force of which turning what would have been a killing blow into grazing her head and moving her away from Jupiter by destroying the distance between her and the spot she wanted to be at. It only grazed her but being hit by the lightning bolt sent electric shocks throughout her body, hindering her movement as she spasmed in the air. As the flames cleared, she saw Jupiter before her, his hand with a few embers of black on him.

‘Yes! He should be keeling over in pain any moment now!’ Synthara’s neck crest was broken and she was bleeding from the left side of her head, but this fight should be over now that Jupiter has been hit with her black flame.

Jupiter stared at her stoically. “In the millennium I've spent fighting, I have seen many fire and teleportation spells, but I have not seen a spell that allowed you to do both. Nor one that could be cast within the milliseconds wide gap between my bolt and its target.” Jupiter then waved his arm hard enough to cause a wind blast behind him, which blew away the black fire.

“Impossible.” Synthara stared back in disbelief. The black flame should have continued to burn indefinitely until the target is consumed.

“Yours is definitely the most deadly fire I've seen, even now I still feel it burn. No actually, it is not fire, but something that resembles fire. Whatever it is, it can be blown away with enough force. I hope that's not the only trick up your sleeve, because I'm just getting started!” Jupiter shouted as he charged again in the air.

Synthara and Jupiter engaged in a game of cat and mouse with Synthara doing all she can to keep her distance, difficult given his speed. Using her ability to destroy anything as long as she can imagine it being burned, all she had to do was imagine the space between her and her target set on fire and she’s there in an instant. The only restriction being that she had to see the target. Without it she would have been fried by lightning multiple times.

In time, Synthara managed to escape his notice by choking the area with black flames that fell like rain around the area in whatever time she could spare in between his attacks. In that moment of hesitation, she used strings to turn her wings into black flame blades tied to her fingers like large claws. As she finished, Jupiter found her again, this time she managed to deflect his bolt and push him back.

“You’re versatile, decisive, and quick on your feet, impressive. Not many warriors have all of those traits together.”

“I’m no warrior, I'm a god, remember?”

Jupiter scoffed. “Ive met many who said the same, only to be humbled by my bolt.”

“Quite arrogant for one who’s playing lapdog to another.”

“I have no interest in ruling, it bores me. I only seek those who can challenge me in combat or in war. I have yet to meet my equal in any of those categories.”

“I agree with you on ruling others, it's so tedious. Yet from my experience being under someone else comes with its own headaches.” Synthara thought back to the days she spent as a scientist under government employ. The pay was great but all the rules and politics were stifling and consumed time that could be spent on better things.

“So what is it about your ruler that made someone like you want to serve him?”

“Perfection.”

Synthara frowned.

“Strength is Perfection, those who lack it are inherently imperfect. The weak ignore their imperfections and have the cravenness to use them as a salve for their soul when the strong capitalize on their indolence. The Ultimatum is the only one who seeks the end goal of life. Completion, Dominance, Perfection. I have carved myself from marble, chiseled and defined by war. All so that I can escape the taint of weakness born onto every mortal soul. Knowing this, do you still think you can defeat me?”

Synthara sighed. “I knew it, you're one of those boring one-note stoic types, the worst kind even. What's the point of achieving perfection if you don't enjoy what you’re mastering? Yet you have the gall to point your nose up at anyone who doesn't meet your arbitrary standards.”

“It is strength that rules this world. Those without it die.”

“But what do you do with that excess of strength? Brag about your superiority and pout when the world does not bend to you?"

Jupiter’s spear extended into a lightning bolt that barely missed Synthara, followed by a charge and an exchange of blows which Synthara deflected.

“And you’re different? You who goes around proclaiming that you are a god?”

“Yes, you seek power to not be weak. I seek power because it's fun. When people fawn over me because I'm a god, I'm in ecstasy. When I cast fearsome forbidden magic like my black flames, I am content. When I fight emotionally repressed old elves who have nothing better to do than whine about the world, claim that they have all the answers, and brandish their spear at young women, I feel grateful, knowing that I have not fallen to such depths.”

Jupiter’s stoic expression was besmirched with a snarl as he swung his lightning bolt like a whip at Synthara. “Arrogant god, I will enjoy the weight of your severed head in my hands.”

Jupiter charged again, only this time he stopped his advance before reaching Synthara, who teleported in anticipation of an attack. As soon as he saw where she appeared, he changed the direction of his momentum to her new location. He frequently would change the timing and frequency of his feints to force her to off balance, zig-zagging across the sky.

However, Synthara set up a complex web of sharpened strings during their conversation. While not strong enough to seriously injure Jupiter, they were still an obstacle that forced him to expend effort dealing with them. Combined with her dragon familiars, regular fireballs with string traps inside, and flame blades, her defenses were sufficient enough to make his attacks slower and predictable. Jupiter was trapped.

“You said you carved yourself from marble. To be able to be so intricately carved, you need to be fragile, to be open to chips and breakage.” Synthara said as Jupiter was hit by another fireball string trap. He tore them off with his bare hands, his armor and face rent with numerous scratches and scorch marks.

“I will carve my name upon you so that you will never forget who defeated you this day!”

His face was as twisted and hard as the wooden remains of Julius. “Silence! I will end this now!” Jupiter’s lightning bolt grew as he threw it at Synthara, flying past her as she teleported out of the way. Then he began charging up energy in his hands, he was going to try and end things with one blast.

Synthara met his challenge by charging as well, magic circles appearing behind her and her blades coalescing into a large black flame mortar, preparing to unleash a torrent of black fire.

“Feuer!”

“Solemn Annihilation!”

With a loud clash, the black and white beams collided. The energy collided, going back and forth as the equilibrium could not decide if Synthara or Jupiter was stronger. She could not lose as the city would be destroyed if she let the lighting bolt pass.

Synthara laughed, being in a magic beam clash was one of the classics. She was having the time of her life, even screaming like in those old cartoons with energy beam clashes.

Eventually the white lightning gave way to the black fire and consumed Jupiter as he cried out in pain, ending in an explosion of black fire.

Synthara let out a victorious laugh. “I have shattered your legs Mr. Marble Statue, may you chip and shatter on your way to hell.” She could hear the crowd cheering all the way from the city even as they were near the outskirts. As she prepared to fly over and bask in the applause, she suddenly noticed that Jupiter was still flying and that he was laughing as well.

Jupiter raised his head with a stoic expression yet victory glimmered in his eyes. “They say lightning never strikes twice, I beg to differ.”

Synthara gasped as she realized that Jupiter’s first lightning bolt had not reappeared.

-

King Bertram looked up at the sky in a daze, as if he had awakened from a decades long dream. He used to be a great warrior. Now he finds that his knees quiver when he stands, his belly protrudes in an unseemly manner from his coat, and his teeth rotted away from years of gorging on sweets. He did not know how, yet every time he and Julius were having their personal tea parties, the pastries in particular would calm the despair in his heart. At times he could not remember anything spoken in those tea parties, only the feeling of relief from the pastries in his presence. At first, Bertram was suspicious that Julius had laced his food with a drug, but his apothecary and sorcerer all assured him that they were normal desserts, if excessively covered in sugar. Reassured, he attended the tea parties with such obsession to the point that if he went on without it for too long, he would be prone to anger. Deep down he knew something was wrong but he did not have any reason or will to resist.

Julius was the only friend he had in this world. When he was consumed by grief at losing his wife, he was there to provide company when all he had was a son that he despised and leeches who only sought to exploit him. The Valhalla that his son had grown attached to provided little comfort, to die only to be thrown into yet more war for a goddess that turned a blind eye when her followers were dying in war or were giving their souls to the Ultimatum instead. Why would his son choose this violent war goddess over being reunited with his mother again in the Ultimatum’s embrace? Said goddess’ speech only cemented his fears.

When Julius confessed to all the crimes he committed, Bertram regurgitated the contents of his stomach upon hearing it. He could deny it no longer, he had been lied to and used, and now because of his actions, the kingdom was brought to the brink, the goddess he viewed as evil and worthy of persecution being the one to rescue it. Whatever reservations he had with Synthara, she still has a far better claim to rule the Kingdom than he does, along with his son.

As he lay on the ground, feeling a sense of clarity and lightness he had not felt in almost two decades, he heard the sky explode as two specks of black and white clashed and pursued each other. The grey sky was awash with lightning and fire.

Bertram looked at his son and Morgan who were fighting off the ice assassin. He could not bear to look, his shame for how he treated his son over his life consumed him. He resented his son for the death of his wife, it was not his fault yet the resentment only grew over time due to his son’s unshaking resolve to protect and care for the kingdom revealing his own weakness.

A lightning bolt nearly struck where Bertram stood, sending him flying. He noticed that the fight was spiraling out of control and the city was thrown into chaos. He cannot expect their goddess to do all of the work. The least he could do was give the people leadership and lead them to safety. He wished to assist his son but it was clear that he and his men would be of little help against the assassin.

His bodyguards stood at his side, a testament to their loyalty to the crown. “Men, gather as many of the people as we can into the underground shelters!” The city of Rok held beneath it enough food and shelter to care for the population for an extended siege.

The king and his men shouted their throats out as they brought people into the underground basements of the palace. Some of the halls were destroyed due to the tree roots but he and his bodyguards cleared a path. Bertram felt his old fighting instincts from the years he spent known as ‘ironrod’ reawakened, giving him strength even as his muscles and bones ached.

A stray lightning bolt was heading towards the crowd of civilians, heading straight for him as if it was punishment for his sins. Yet he could give up just yet, not until he had done everything he could. Lightning struck Bertram’s sword as he tried to reflect it, his muscles screamed and his sword melted under the heat yet miraculously he deflected it safely to the ground, as if his body saved this last scrap of strength for this moment.

The battle above raged for several minutes fighting around the burning tree which was now reduced to a stump from their attacks, fortunately their fighting eventually took them to the outskirts of the city. As people filed into the castle, Bertram felt the pressure in the air grow heavier. The goddess and his opponent have stopped fighting and are gathering power for what seemed to be their strongest attacks. Even the fight between Wilhelm and Juno had paused.

The air shook as two beams, one black and the other white, clashed with a loud roar. This clash went on for a long second, the black fire protecting the city from the white lightning’s onslaught. After a long moment, the lightning gave way to the flame and the white figure was consumed in black fire. He cheered along with the people.

Then out of nowhere, another beam of lightning fell from the sky and struck the city. The city was instantly consumed by a beam of white light. Bertram disintegrated in a flash of divine lightning. In that instant, he took solace in that he died not as a puppet, not as a king, not as a father, but as an imperfect man that tried to right himself towards the end.