With Chaos now rampant throughout the land, Cypher took full advantage of the situation to advance. The moons glow shines down while he carved a path through his enemies, not letting anyone who stepped Infront of him have the time to regret their mistake.
By now, the battle had been raging for some time, allowing both armies to mix in a discordent mess of voilence and cries.
As if to respond to the misfortune, a wind blades diverged from the fight below and inadvertently struck the ground, killing countless men of both sides without mercy.
One of the Dreamweavers defending Cypher had his own arm severed from the brief contact he made with the caliber 4 attack, causing his opponent, a tall bald man with barely any armour, to take advantage of his misfortune and slice off his head with his axe. The leather vest holding back his ogre like muscle splattered with blood.
He seemed to gain confidence, smiling a toothy wild grin at the kill before finding the seemingly small Cypher in the midst of indiscriminately murdering soldiers some distance away. Confidence surged inside his heart while he pushed his own allies away and slowly building momentum akin to a train.
"Boy!" He roared while his shoulder collided with random men, sending them flying ,"Tell your god Ragnor sent you haha!"
Joyfully running towards an easy kill, Ragnor soon saw Cypher tilting his head as if confused. The yellow glowing eyes beneath seemed to say...Is your brain working?
Cypher didn't even get his blade ready, but stood there unmoving.
This brat is mocking me!? Ragnar?
Increasing his speed until a mere touch could kill a regular man, Ragnor ran with blazing red eyes. He was around a meter away, about to make contact.
Strangely, as he made contact, the boy disappeared. Gone from his vision, Ragnar couldn't comprehend what had happened.
Only when he felt his momentum stop in it's track and a steering pain in his stomach that soon oozed red fluid did he realise.
Cypher, who had held back his strength to appear as a rank one, simply used his superior speed to move out of Ragnar's way.
"Muscle without a mind? What a waste of your gifts." Cypher made his way past the impaled Ragnor towards other people blocking his path, leaving Ragnar to die slowly.
He had formed a spike that jutted out from the ground behind him and used his body to block it from the hunk of muscle running towards him. All he needed to do was move and let Ragnar's momentum do the rest. The idiot ran into the spike due to his own folly.
With the nuisance gone, Cypher was now half way through the field. Around him, other soldiers fought, allowing him not to stand out too much.
Currently, above him, Rain looked down on the battlefield with a birds eye view. This was, ofcourse, a major risk. Countless windblades and golden swords had to be dodged in order to remain airborne.
With the view from above, Cypher had found a route with no caliber two Weavers in his way. With this information, he simply gathered power in his legs.
What followed was a streak ducking and weaving around swords, some spears and crossbow bolts. Those that couldn't perceive him only saw a flash, However, those of caliber two had locked onto him like sharks.
Why? He was running directly towards the castle!
Worse yet, they couldn't stop him by blocking his way as they were simply too far. The rank onee weavers of the cult could barely see him, let alone stop him.
This left only one option...
"CHASE HIM!" One deep voice came from his left.
"Don't let him get through!" Another from his right.
Soon, there was a group of caliber two Weavers sprinting his direction with murderouse eyes. One white flash passed by the eyes of those present followed by four other black flashes.
The wind force knocked fully armoured veterans off their feet with their passing. If someone was unlucky enough to be caught in their path they would be reduced into a bloody mist.
The Dreamweavers that originaly protected Cypher were now left behind or killed by the rank two's that passed by them. The voilent cat and mouse chase continued to rage on as Cypher neared the edge of the battle line, moments away from breaking free of the mass of fighting soldiers.
And break free he did.
Like lightning he escaped the mass of soldiers, escaping onto the open field without looking back and continuing his full speed sprint towards the castle that now lay Infront of him with no obstacles to block his path.
His pursuers? They furiously attempted to catch up to him, only to find the distance between them growing slightly with each passing moment.
'This small body has its uses." With his childlike physique, Cypher was somewhat faster than the Dreamweavers of the same caliber. The trade off being he was also weaker in terms of raw muscle strength, however, it wasn't a completely bad trade off.
Noticing this streak running towards their walls, some crossbowmen tried to land a lucky shot on their soon to be attacker.
A storm of crossbow bolts followed, raining down on Cypher yet missing him and landing in the ash floor he was running on.
After running far enough, the once distant castle grew bigger and bigger. He arrived at the moat pit that separated the castle from the land sorrounding it. The spikes lying deep in the pit jutted out, warning him of his fate if he fell inside. Unable to jump over die to it's thirty meter width, he instead followed the original plan and abruptly stopped his momentum.
Skidding to a halt just before falling of the edge into certain death, the Castle walls loomed over him and cast his long shadow behind him. He swiftly placed his hands on the ground and gathered all the power he could. This was a test of control even Cypher struggled with.
With a teqnique that allowed him to craft constructs with sand, it relied on three things to build the shape of what he wanted. First was the imagination to actually visualise what he wanted, for example, a spike of sand. He couldn't create it if he didn't perfectly visualise what he wanted it to look like- fortunately an easy task for him.
Secondly, was soul power. This was simple enough as he had to have a rank capable of creating what he wanted.
Thirdly, and most pressing in the current situation, was control. This was mostly just about talent. The ability to finely control each particle of white sand was so difficult that it made other techniques look like a child's puzzle piece in comparison. To others it looked like he was simply creating something out of thin air, however he knew that in reality, he was putting together a complex structure in seconds, a fear few could accomplish.
With a vien bulging on his forehead, Cypher strained his mind and allowed his soul power to sleep into reality. Soon, sand materialised out of nothing and clumped together, forming a straight, strong pathway that would allow him to pass over the moat and reach the castle walls on the other side.
By far, this was his most strenuous creation so far. It was deceptive in that it used a massive amount of grains to construct. Each one requiring a certain degree of attention to complete the bridge he had visualised in his mind.
Even with the pressure of the weavers about to catch up to him, he still managed his task through gritted teeth.