World Filter

Mark’s Prana barely dropped as the hundreds of metal shards sprayed his construct. The core of the shot was tungsten, as it was still intact even when Wesley had stopped all its forward momentum.

The slug of metal dropped to the floor as Wesley relaxed his shoulders and moved to the side.

A collection of hoots and whistles rose, as NAS’s people cheered him on from the sidelines.

Lisa looked happily at the colonel as she moved to congratulate Wesley.

Unenhanced or not, taking a tank round directly with one’s body was impressive in Mark's book. A feat that would have turned anyone, or anything, into a fine bloody mist before the fall.

While all this was still going on, Captain Price made his way into the middle of the road and took out his weapon.

The object he took out stole people's attention. The thing reminded Mark of a great sword, but even then it was on the large side. It had a handle, but there was also another spot to grip it on the spine of the blade.

Its silvery gray material shone in the light as it stood almost as tall as Captain Price himself, making it look slightly comical.

Though no one was laughing.

If he truly could use a weapon like that, he’d be devastating on the battlefield.

The sounds of another round loading into the chamber rang out from one end of the street, and then the shell detonated at it shot forward.

Mark watched as Captain Price waited for the last second, to lift his blade. When he did, it swung overhead and came down with the speed of a freight train, and the strength to match it. As the round cracked straight into the flat side of the blade. The force of his downward swing was so great that it ignored that of the round’s, and crashed into the tarmac. Because Mark had covered even the road in his construct, the full force of both the swing and the projectile crashed into the screen at once.

Mark's jaw clenched as he felt the heavy feedback. It was nowhere near shattering his spell, but Mark was glad he weaved in an absorb modifier. The force rippled along the invisible screen temporarily causing one massive ring of power to show the boundaries of his construct. The hit was comparable to one from Jonathan.

This time the soldiers began clapping and whistling their own cheers.

The core of tungsten lay warped on the ground where he’d crushed it. Putting the blade over his shoulder Captain Price walked back to the sidelines while grinning.

Jonathan frowned and walked up to stand in the middle of the road, drawing just a single blade and setting his stance.

They had to wait quite a while for the loyalists to calm down, but eventually, Major Liam stepped in and quieted them down.

The clanking of metal on metal sounded out and the third shot tore towards Jonathan.

However, unlike the other two, he was not content to just wait for the shot to come to him.

Jonathan exploded forward with speed almost matching the round, and as the two met in the middle, there was no sound of metal against metal.

Instead, Jonathan reached forward with his empty hand and caught the projectile in his palm. The shockwave of the slug was enough to launch Jonathan backwards but his forward momentum cushioned the blow almost entirely. Sending him back a couple of meters before he got his feet under himself.

Everyone stared, as Jonathan came to a standstill and rightened the round in his hand. His fingers had pushed into the softer metals of the round, only halted by the core of tungsten.

Mark wasn’t stupid, he knew that would have hurt like a bitch, and yet, Jonathan calmly and slowly put the round on the sidewalk and patted it softly for good measure.

Their own people went mad, happily cheering on Jonathan.

“Bloody show-off” Sam whispered beside Mark.

“At this point, isn't that what we want?”

Sam shot Mark a glare that said, ‘Not you too’, but Colonel Rachel's voice boomed over the cheers.

“A wonderful display from everyone. These last three shots are our enhanced versions. Please be careful, even if there are healers on hand. If you feel like the last shot was your limit, I encourage you to back out now.”

Wesley moved back to the middle of the road. Jonathan had been speaking to him but he shook his head at whatever the guy was saying.

Mark glanced over to the tanks again as their formation began to change.

The row at the very back of the formation rotated to the front and Mark could see these had undergone the most modifications. The barrels themselves looked to be made from hardened material, matching the outer plates.

If Mark had to get these one would not only be using more powerful rounds but would be firing their payloads at much higher speeds.

There were those same internal clinks of metal, and they too fired. But this time, the round that exploded from the barrel released a scream so ear-splitting, that if the construct was not there, it would have blown nearby glass from window frames.

In response, Wesley put everything he had into his defense. Dropping his stand and bracing on one knee, Mark felt his Aura wrap around him like that of a fortress.

Skills flashed over both his shield and body.

When the shot arrived it crashed into the wall of metal as Wesley threw his shoulder into it. The force of the shot was so great, that even with all this preparation, he could not arrest its momentum. Getting launched back as the round continued to burrow through his shield. Just when it looked like it would pierce and kill the man, he angled his shield enough to deflect it. The shot changed course by a few degrees and went ricocheting off the top of the shield, smacking into the back wall of Mark’s construct.

Mark strengthened that area as he felt it attempting to tear through his construct. The force was so high, and focused on a single point, that Mark had to release his mental limits to have enough time to funnel more energy to the area.

The amount of force spinning off the round dispersed into Mark’s construct, as it sapped its forward momentum and joined his own power.

From an observer's point of view, it just looked like the round smashed into the pane of force and spun out like a bullet on ice.

When it ran out of power, the shot crashed to the ground undamaged, but Mark still let out a small exhale of air through his nose.

Sam’s eyes flickered over to him, a question burning there.

Mark shook his head. Overall the power of the shot was devastating enough to warp Wesley's shield which was no doubt system-made. That meant that whatever hardening technique they had discovered was on par with the conduit they’d made. It had to be, or it never would have been able to do damage.

Luckily because of the raw force behind it, Mark could use a lot of its strength against it.

He might have failed to block this kind of shot if he was unprepared. But ever since that sniper bullet had almost taken his life, Mark had resolved to make his construct even more powerful.

Good enough, was no longer acceptable.

Wesley was panting as he slowly climbed to his feet. Mark checked and found a few minor breaks and tears in his arms, which he began healing. NAS was clapping happily, though Wesley looked annoyed, while Lisa had a grim look on her face.

When Captain Price sauntered back up to the plate, he looked at Wesley with a vicious glint in his eye.

Mark frowned when the next tank aimed its barrel at Captain Price.

It was strange because the first three rounds had all been fired from the same tank. The fact that they needed a new tank for each subsequent shot indicated a limit on how quickly they could fire these new rounds.

Either way, the next shot was just like the last, shaking the very foundations around them. This time though both Mark and Sam were shocked when they felt a simply massive amount of Mana come pouring out of Captain Price.

His spellwork was simple but brutally effective, causing liquid amber to materialize in mid-air. IT filled the area at shocking rates and launched itself at the oncoming projectile, hardening as a result. Such was the volume of resin, that shards of amber congealed and shattered all at once, and yet, every meter it moved through this viscous manifestation, sapped its momentum. Until all that remained was a massive collum of amber glittering in the morning sun. The projectile remained trapped in an eternal flight.

Sam’s eyes narrowed at the magic as she studied Captain Price pulling the amber back and turning it back into a liquid.

He dissipated all of the resin save for the round, which he left coated in a glimmering sphere of hardened amber and floated it toward Sam.

Winking at her and he did so.

Sam rolled her eyes at the man but still caught the gift on a cushion of air, setting it down in front of herself.

Mark glanced down at the massive paperweight and could still make out the trails through the solidified amber behind the shell.

Mark had to wonder what the captain's attributes were. For he’d need at the very least five hundred in both Mana and Aura to pull off either of those feats. From the looks of things, he was a spell sword, but he had to be the most powerful one they’d encountered thus far.

Where had this guy been hiding, and what did the army put him through to get to this level of raw power?

Glancing up, Mark noticed Jonathan frowning at them both, but before Mark could send him a questioning glance, the sounds of the third and final turret began to move.

As the tank aimed, Jonathan’s Aura began to soar into the area.

Interestingly, it no longer felt like a death threat to Mark, its cold edge never pressing itself to his neck.

However, that was not the same for the other observers. All around people began to look uncomfortable, and while none collapsed from the pressure, many began to breathe heavily under the strain. When it reached the top of Mark’s construct he felt the Aura condensing down into a crescendo around Jonathan. Drawing both his blades, caused the Aura to settle on them almost of its own accord.

By that point, a loud clang from the tank rang out as the plunger cracked down on the shell, resulting in that same cacophonous detonation.

The shot had barely left the tank’s barrel as Jonathan swung his blades. The attack was far too early, but that didn’t matter to him as two vertical slashes tore out of the edges of his blade, similar to his old crescent blade.

But Jonathan was not done there, in less time than it took to breathe, he swung again. These projections were horizontal but equally vicious. Jonathan had just released a third set when the round came into contact with his first attack.

There was a powerful shockwave through the air as each swing passed through the hurtling projectile robbing it of some of its momentum. By the time it reached Jonathan he was on his sixth set of strikes.

If Mark had to guess, he imagined each of those hits was compounded by his weapon’s natural ability, Making them look far simpler than they were.

On his last attack, Jonathan changed his stance and swung his blades, making contact directly for the first time, slashing in opposing directions to riposte the shell.

Mark's eyes narrowed and he got ready to send Prana in that direction but it turned out to be unnecessary, as the projectile burst apart into dozens of pieces.

Turning the massive chunk of metal into many perfectly straight rods that scattered at the point of impact. Surrounding Jonathan, but completely missing the space he was standing. Stabbing into the floor in front of him and shooting overhead.

The sound of these rods impacting the construct, sounded like a hail of arrows as they went scattering and spinning into the surrounding area.

Jonathan had cut clean through the round, as well as the tungsten core. Turning the ammunition into useless scrap metal.

Mark frowned, how Jonathan had cut through the projectile with just his Aura alone was beyond him. Especially when it was made of enhanced material, Mark thought at least his swords would have been damaged and yet they looked fine.

Their people went mad cheering for him as he leaned down a picked up a couple of the rods. Slowly making his way back toward their faction, Jonathan grabbed bits of the metal rod and bent it near the ends. Pinching the metal into shape with his thumb and index, leaving the tungsten as the stem. On arrival he offered Sam and Ethel a flower resembling an Iris each.

Ethel happily accepted hers, but Sam shot Jonathan a dry look. Still, she took the offered gift from the smug bastard.

Neither Colonel Rachel nor Captain Price looked impressed, but they both came forward to congratulate Jonathan and Wesley.

Ethel grinned now that they were in her wheelhouse

“Right, should we move somewhere quieter to discuss the details?”