"You know I could've dealt with him in seconds, right?" Cait asked Fate. They were walking through a dark corridor made of the same black stone as the rest of the palace. It was wide enough for four men to walk side by side, and every twenty feet had a torch lit with purple flame.
"Yes, but I can't let you do all the work. I got to have an excuse to take a cut of whatever these guys will pay us, don't I? Besides, it's not very gentlemanly to let a lady do all the work."
"Uh-huh, sure. For sure didn't have anything to do with your pride"
They went quiet when they saw light up ahead, bracing themselves for a fight.
"Your friends are impressive, Samnul," Ythmun said to the empty throne room, watching the hologram in his hands. "But Garrett has dealt with impressive before." He leaned on the throne, making himself comfortable. Garrett's powers were always entertaining to see in action.
They entered a wide, squat room with a low ceiling, leaving only a few inches between the top of it and Fate's head. It was at least two hundred feet wide and half as long, with no decorations of any kind, save the sputtering torches on the walls, providing dim light to the room.
Directly across from where Fate and Cait entered was a wooden door reinforced with steel edges, held shut by five thick locks. Standing in the middle of this room to greet the duo was a short man that looked to be in his seventies.
He was five feet tall at most, allowing him to comfortably stand at his full height. The fuzzy silver hair covering his scalp was a little thin, although the whiskers around his mouth were more persistent. He could almost pass for a harmless old grandpa if it weren't for the obvious danger the man presented.
The way his baggy gray clothes caught on certain sections of his body suggested a powerful physique, and his pale silver eyes followed the duo's every movement, not a single emotion passing within them. Despite his age, he stood as straight as a soldier, not even the slightest stoop visible in his posture.
He gave off the definitive strength of a Personification, but not one in the middle of the Level like Tregnama. He was near the threshold of becoming an Incarnation, broadcasting his knowledge of over eight percent of what his Manifestation held.
While that sounded like a small amount, even easy to accomplish considering the multitude of Incarnations Fate had already fought, it was anything but. Firstly, each of those Incarnations Fate went against was thousands of years old at the youngest, some approaching seven digits in age.
To give some perspective on a previously ignored topic, understanding even a single percent of what one's Manifestation is capable of could take hundreds of years to comprehend for even the 'simplest' of Manifestations, the Elements. Even something that seems as basic as Air has seemingly infinite applications and interactions with the world. What was in the air besides oxygen? Nitrogen? How much? What about argon? Helium?
What happened when Air with this much nitrogen was exposed to that gas? What about alien species that considered 'Air' to have entirely different compositions? What would happen if Air composed mostly of carbon was exposed to high temperatures? What about low temperatures?
Becoming a Personification meant knowing a minimum of 0.5% of what one's Manifestation could do while becoming an Incarnation meant fully understanding and comprehending ten percent. And as for the lofty Manifested, they knew the answers to every single one of those questions, along with the answers to each of the infinite questions one could produce about their Manifestation.
So, for this man to be anywhere near the realm of Incarnations was an astounding feat. And his appearance of an old man, along with the almost nonexistent aging of a Personification, meant he was thousands of years old at the least, possibly hundreds of times that.
It had to be remembered that Fate had fought three Incarnations before. One, Freyda, went so easy on him that she effectively fought as an Exemplar. Another, Hedra, had just Leveled into her new power, and thus was unused to the higher-quality Divine Energy she now controlled.
While Fate nearly died to her attacks, it had to be remembered that she was, at her core, an Emotional Embodiment and thus not as adept at attacking as others, even if her Manifest Power was tailored for it. She also advanced to her new Level with a breakthrough based on her own overwhelming sadness, likely knowing very little about using her Manifestation for offense.
And Lord Bosina, the only Incarnation Fate had fought earnestly, was more than capable of quashing Fate like an ant with less effort than it took to bend his pinky finger.
All this went to say, Fate was determined to kill this man before he pulled some mumbo jumbo bullshit and broke through to the next Level, something that was frustratingly common when Fate fought Embodiments.
Realistically, though, the chances of this elderly man learning a whole two percent of his Manifestation within the next few minutes was laughably low, and it was purely Fate's paranoia acting up.
"So, you got past that hack, Tregnama? He always was the young, dumb type. Heh. Name's Garrett. I'll be doing what that moron couldn't: kill you."
The old man tore his shirt off, revealing a muscular torso reminiscent of statues of Heracles, cords of sinew outlining his physique, and abundant silver hair covering his chest. "Enjoy your last few hours in this world, because it will all end soon."
Fate readied his Miao Dao, crouching into a defensive stance. Next to him, Cait breathed in deeply, Divine Energy surging around her. Fate could feel her aura lock onto him and Garrett, to better observe the fight. She gave him a wink, motioning toward Garrett. "Go on, earn your keep," she said with a cheeky grin.
Garrett took a step forward, and the whole room quaked.