Wielder of Names 6-118
Chapter: 6
“The Knights Belligerent have a single rule to their Sword Law and it is this – killing is the first instinct of man, before breathe, or even thought. Therefore everything a man does, every single detail of his day, from sleeping to eating, should be an argument with himself on the restraint of said instinct. Naturally, they don’t tend to get along with each other very well.”
– Ampater, merchant prince
Looks like it’s time for some right and proper NAME WIELDING.
Our Rising King has an audience. Bottom right corner, some of Nadia’s guards are watching. Surely, whatever happens next, her legend will spread.
I don’t know if ‘legend’ is the right word.
“And then she smote Queen Om above the palace!”
“Yeah, right. How did that happen?”
“Uh, well, there was lightning and uh… a tornado. I don’t know.”
“Go home, Jim.”
These are the words of a man who doesn’t understand how stories are told, thankfully Cio knows what she’s doing.
Though, with Cio, you can assume more reported blushing than actually occurred. Also, the chapter where Om, Alice, and White Chains had a threesome just goes too far!
OooohhhhhHHHHHHh OOOOOOHHHHH! She gonna do something BADASS!
Ooooooooohhhh. OOOOOOOOOOHHHH! She’s gonna do something BADASS!
She’s gonna do something BADASS!
She’s gonna do something BADASS!
She’s goin nuclear!
She’s nuclear, she’s wild…
Given more time, “trying” will be a word that falls out of familiarity with young Allison.
Agreed. One little green master once spoke a maxim of royalty, “Do or do not, there is no try.”
Up top my Jedi Brother /)
When the secret name of God is jammed in your forehead, you do or do not, there is no try.
How does “always running away” equal “trying”?
It’s called”tactical retreat”!
It’s called a “tactical retreat”
How does deliberately returning to Throne, challenging a demon to a drinking contest, infiltrating Mottom’s castle, introducing herself, slapping her, and blowing up her immortality tree equal “always running away”?
I’m pretty sure she means “trying to change”–Allison has, within, what, a few days(?) managed to move from “terrified sorority girl” to “devil-binder, challenger of demiurges, the Successor” and actively chosen to pursue Zaid despite the world of dead gods and monsters between them.
Whereas Mottom has had hundreds of years with insane powers and dominion over a seventh of the universe, yet she still lets herself be ruled by public opinion and the needs of her long-dead bastard husband. She’s pillaging the universe so she won’t have to change or grow.
One week-ish, and Allison slept through three of the days.
Trying to escape, instead of simply accepting servitude to an evil tree dick?
Mottom herself could not run away from her gilded cage or from her husband, even after his death. Yet Allison runs away from Mottom, knowing full well the danger that it involves, just how dangerous she is, and that she would be safer if she accepted her.
Tis not running away! Tis but a strategic retreat!
Also, do bear in mind that Allison made the choice to come back from Earth, and then to go confront Mottom directly even when Cio would have preferred she stay and build up her strength more. Then she bitch-slapped said queen of one-seventh of creation, burned down the tree of woe, and upset the cosmic balance. That Pree Allison does not stay and fight like one of them thorny knights or knight belligerent does not change the fact that she is making an effort to try and set things right, and to save her loverly boyfriend. Even if he is a creep.
By contrast, Mottom rules a seventh of the world, yet all she does is party and whine.
She bested an Ebon Devil in a contest of skill. She masked and named the Hungry Black Flame. She slipped into the floating palace by her own wits. She stood up in the face of one of the Seven. She slew the deathless, hungering King. She slapped Mottom across the face.
Whether you’re carving a path to your enemy, or from them, or in another direction entirely, it doesn’t matter. All are ways to Cut, and only by mastering them all do you exemplify Royalty.
Well spoken
To be fair, she destroyed an undead demigod maiden-consuming penis tree and condemned a universal conqueror to a withering death after infiltrating her court.
@Jesse – Not *always* running away, but to be sure, oftimes trying to survive involves much running away. And Allison is trying…Trying to change her situation. Trying to change herself. Trying to conquer her fear.
Mottom doesn’t seem to be trying to do anything but remain at stasis. She hates the mode of her existence but lacks the will to change it. She is trapped in her fear.
How does “teleporting back to Throne instead of staying safe at home, challenging a Demon to a drinking contest, walking into Mottom’s castle with no backup, standing up to her after seeing her turn two men into plants without lifting a finger and then condemning a demiurge to death by killing her deceased husband” equal “always running away”?
In the words of Sage Francis “God’s not a woman. He’s a bitch!”
The queen doth protest such insolence. I fear, such as it is, that here time is nigh.
Time is always nigh. Why would here be any different?
A typo, I know. But I very much like the implications. Perhaps this is the great tragedy of immortality. Of itself, it fosters stasis and stagnation. Only the truly mortal can understand the furious turbulence of unkind Time, and thus strive to overcome. It is the parable of Het and the demon, once again.
Indeed, blood is always ripe for the harvest.
As always, there’s nothing to make your your enemy gets back up again like “you can barely stand”.
“It’s conceivable, you ugly vomitous mass, that I’m only lying here because I lack the strength to stand. Then again. Perhaps I have the strength after all.”
*Rises slowly from the bed, sword in hand, and points it towards foe. Face a mask of barely contained fury.*
“Drop. Your. Sword.”
It looks like Mottom is aging rapidly.
Yeah, based on earlier times, I had guessed that she aged about a decade every hour, but now it’s clear that the rate is accelerating. If the number of fruit she gorged on is anything to go by she may be several millenia old, and all those years are starting to catch up.
“The Years are like water”, indeed.
At this rate, she’ll be halfway to being a corpse by the time Allison does whatever she’s about to do.
Wow I am amazed she can even move. But that is the defiant spirit I want to see :).
Beautiful art as always!
Allison actually snapped free of Mottom’s vines by her own strength, and climbed backwards up part of the stairs while covered in piercing wounds all up and down her arms and legs.
She’s more resilient than I think anyone has given her credit for, herself included.
Yeah, wounds like that could bring many strong men to their knees, but here she is spitting vim.
…Wasn’t Om on the floor after being only being slapped?
This is true, but when it comes to Nadia Om I imagine she hasn’t had anyone truly come close to touching her, let alone striking her, in several human lifetimes. Demiurge or not, you go awhile expecting to be untouchable and the first blow is a rude awakening.
If I recall correctly our AL-YIS-UN is also much stronger than she looks, thanks to obsessive visits to the gym which she used to supplement her hair dye in an effort to remake herself.
Truly, Mottom is the queen of glass cannons.
That was Om shorn of GLORY. She was pleading, weak, peasant-like. She had chosen not to be royalty, and thus was able to be defeated by Allison.
to be fair it was quite the magnificent bitch slap
I think she had made herself weak on purpose, then, to appeal to Alison’s emotions. The strike took her by surprise.
As with all candidates of Royalty and wielders of the art, Mottom’s strength depends as much on her will as her physical form. Also, Allison cracked the shower tiles accidentally when she got home. So that slap had some kick to it.
I think she had made herself weak on purpose, to manipulate Alison and appeal to her compassion. She wasn’t expecting to be struck, and could not regather her power in time.
On one hand I admire the gall to trade insults with a false god…
On the other hand there is currently not much between you and the ground.
Nonsense.
There is about several hundred meters of open air. That’s technically something.
I think that’s the point — she doesn’t have to worry about being on a falling palace anymore….
She’s in the arms of an angel. What’s to worry?
I see you have not embraced by angels often.
Yes, Allison. Do the thing.
DO THE THING DO THE THING
Bravery comes in many forms. Perhaps the girl sees what she herself may become, in time.
Storms roll in quicker than sailors can see
but those with a nose, know how soon to flee
I won’t go out if the water smells fishy to me.
Beware the light of royal flames
And fear the one who wields all names
“And so did AL-YIS-UN, Heir to the Throne of God, deliver such a sick burn unto Mother Om that the stars in the heavens were burned by flames hotter than their own coronas, and the people across the land were forced to don stylish protective eyewear as they clapped in awe.”
– The Highly Embellished And Factually Dubious Unauthorised Chronicle Of AL-YIS-UN, ch 12
Glory be to the Rising King, Al-utma et behkal niam qorei.
It has begun! (c)
Mottom is sage, and thus does not know that fear is far less germane to Allison’s condition than her many painful wounds.
Allison is foolish, and thus knows that she is resolved anyway.
That expression reminds me of a story.
Once, while I walked the roads of an unimportant conquered world, I was stopped by a serf. He was a hard-faced, weather-beaten man, of humble disposition and given hard labour as his eternal fate.
“Angel,” said he, “beautiful angel, wise angel. What must I do to be happy with my life?”
I was in a good mood, so I did not kill him for calling me “wise”, and so I put my hand on his shoulder and told him: “Forsake your inhibitions. Cast them off along with your clothes, and render yourself a beast. Shit, piss and breed where you may and as it pleases you, and foremost, if you are wronged, give in to that beasthood and make glorious bloodshed. Suffer no injustice nor wounds from your hated enemy! If he takes your finger, take his arm. If he takes your toe, take his leg. If he takes your nose, take his head. Cast your forgiveness into the mud and find a life of beauteous violence awaiting you. Live as so and you will forget the pain of being a man! PRESH.”
The serf scratched the back of his head, scrunched up his tanned face, and said: “I don’t think you’ve understood the question.” Thus, of course, I bade him leave, but kept his head.
Anyway. Though her murder eyes are not as impressive as Matanghi’s, let’s see how our Imperatrix finds the Blade of Want.
…are we out of popped corn? Truly we are abandoned by our father-mother.
Do, or do not.
There is no try.
Let us sing the Song Invisible.
You tell me that I make no difference
it’s in my eyes, it’s in my eyes.
Do I follow your line of thought?