Tunde found his body responding to his every wish with an ease that made him wonder how he had survived without a core. His Ethra coursed through his veins, not as some powdered filament of weak energy to be gathered but as a dense fluid of power that made every technique he employed devastatingly effective.
The cultivation manual of the Boundless Wrath Sect had Tunde pursing his lips, uncertain of the Highlord’s true intentions. Ifa had scanned the manual, revealing its techniques with a simulated example of a featureless cultivator demonstrating the movements. To be honest, Tunde found it quite jarring.
“Either the Highlord truly thinks we’re barbarians, or he wants me to play to it,” he said aloud to Miria, who seemed to be swinging her whip blade in accordance with the manual she had been given.
The Twilight Sword Technique, which had once belonged to a now-destroyed influential clan, was handed over to Miria, supposedly containing mid to high-grade techniques and cultivation styles. Tunde found it suspicious that Varis suddenly had manuals and techniques suited to both of them and, to some extent, the other adepts as well. It seemed as if everything had been prepared in advance, meaning Varis knew they would come into play.
Miria paused from where she swung her blade, sighing as she encountered trouble with a cultivation method meant for a shadow and blade cultivator rather than a shadow and ink one. “What do you mean?” she asked.
Tunde opened another page of the manual and handed it to her. Miria glanced through it as he spoke. “It’s built towards a style meant for someone with some serious issues,” he replied.
Ifa brought up the first part of the manual on his screen, and he followed along with Miria, who read it aloud
[Boundless Wrath Sect Cultivation Manual: "Wrathful Ascendance"
Sect Name: Boundless Wrath Sect
Manual Grade: Low
Cultivation Method: Wrathful Core Expansion
Description: The "Wrathful Ascendance" manual is the foundational text for disciples of the Boundless Wrath Sect. This manual focuses on developing a robust and expansive Ethra core, allowing for rapid cultivation and versatile combat abilities that integrate both weaponry and hand-to-hand techniques.]
She glanced up at him with a thoughtful look. “You don’t have a specific fighting style, if we’re honest,” she noted. “You started with gauntlets, then an axe, and recently a blade. It fits your fighting style.”
Tunde waved his hand. “Go on,” he said.
[Ethra Cultivation Method: Blazing Wrath’s Breath
Description: The Blazing Wrath’s Breath Core Expansion method emphasizes the growth and refinement of the Ethra core located in the lower abdomen. By focusing on intense emotional states such as wrath and determination, cultivators can accelerate their cultivation speed and increase the size and capacity of their Ethra core.]
“Oh,” Miria said with a realization. “Exactly,” Tunde replied. “It’s like he wants me to become some mindless creature that feeds off anger.”
She frowned. “Easy to see why they died off. How much anger could one cultivate to advance?” she murmured.
[Projection Technique: Blazing Wrath Fist
Description: The cultivator channels their Ethra into their fists, causing them to glow with a fiery aura. Upon striking, the concentrated Ethra is released in a powerful blast, capable of burning through defenses and causing significant damage.]
“The projection technique sounds almost like your Void Touch,” Miria noted as Tunde glanced through it again, realizing the similarity. He began to ponder, an idea beginning to take shape within his mind as they continued.
[Imbuement Technique: Wrathful Blade
Description: This technique allows the cultivator to infuse their weapon with the energy of their wrath, increasing its sharpness, durability, and lethality. The weapon glows with a fierce aura, intimidating opponents.]
Tunde was really getting tired of the term ‘wrath’ being thrown into every technique, which he found typical for a sect that emphasized brute strength over intellect.
[Dominion Technique: Infernal Wrath Domain
Description: The cultivator creates a domain infused with their Ethra, affecting all enemies within it. Opponents caught in the domain experience a decrease in their Ethra control and an increase in fear, making them more vulnerable to attacks.]
“Well,” Miria started, “at least the dominion technique is straightforward and intimidating,” she said as Tunde rolled his eyes, taking the book back from her. He read the last words of ‘wisdom’ left by the writer, undoubtedly the sect leader.
[The "Wrathful Ascendance" manual teaches that true strength comes from the mastery of one's emotions. By channeling wrath and determination, initiates and disciples can achieve rapid growth and become formidable cultivators, blending the fury of their Ethra with deadly combat skills of their choosing.]
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked.
Tunde leafed through the manual again. “Ifa, place my projection technique and that of the sect side by side,” he ordered.
[Void Strike (tier 4): A technique that imbues Ethra and aura within a weapon, releasing a devastating strike on an opponent.
Wrathful Blade: This technique allows the cultivator to infuse their weapon with the energy of their wrath, increasing its sharpness, durability, and lethality. The weapon glows with a fierce aura, intimidating opponents.]
Tunde stared at the two techniques side by side, pondering quietly. “Recreate them,” he ordered Ifa. Two humanoid figures materialized, one black and the other red, both featureless. The black figure had its cosmic Ethra wrapped around the blade in its hand, raising it up as it flared with Ethra within his sight. The red figure, however, seemed to have what looked like steaming vapor-like Ethra on the blade, wisps of smoke coalescing around it, giving it a sort of second ‘skin.’
Void Strike struck as the illusionary attack went from the blade a few meters, exploding right in front of its wielder. The Wrathful Blade seemed more of an aura-imbued technique, striking forth not just with the strength of its wielder but with the additional weight of its user. Watching the scene replay over and over, Tunde rose to his feet, opened his void ring, and grabbed a regular sword, one of the many he kept within his ring.
As he went through the motions of both Void Strike and Wrathful Blade, he watched in surprise as the blade shattered from the raw force he exerted, his Ethra impacting the weapon meant for a disciple.
“I wouldn’t want to get hit with that,” Miria observed from where she sat, cultivating Ethra.
Tunde stared at the broken pieces of metal on the ground. The blade hadn’t been forged with Ethereon, which could explain why it shattered, but it left him thinking once again.
[Ifa, can you combine the two imbuement techniques?] Tunde asked.
[Possible,] it replied.
The forms of Void Strike and Wrathful Blade dissipated into smoke before coalescing into a single entity.
[Both techniques deal with explosive strength. Void Strike allows you to touch your opponent a few steps ahead, while Wrathful Blade leverages the pressure and deadliness of the user’s aura to double the attack's impact, albeit without the extended reach,] Ifa explained.
The figure began gathering aura and Ethra around the blade, layering the fine aura smoothly before topping it with the rougher Ethra.
[Both abilities blend together, providing the depth of aura and the range of Ethra.]
When the figure raised the blade, it did not extend like the tendrils of Void Strike. Instead, it held the power firmly atop the blade. The figure swung, watching as it crashed into the blade of another illusionary figure. The Ethra shattered the imbued weapon of its opponent and landed a strike on the body, releasing an explosive detonation that shook the area.
Tunde smiled and drew another blade, repeating the motions. The blade shattered even before he could layer the Ethra on it.
“What was that?” Miria asked in awe.
Tunde glanced at her, a smile playing on his lips. “The beginning of my own technique,” he said with a grin.
*************************
Haruka was an imposing figure, surrounded by coalescing orbs of Ethra that resonated with his every breath. His rugged body glowed with barely constrained Ethra, turning the sands around him into shimmering golden fragments. A few hundred meters away, Yumar, the First Claw, sat in a meditative position, his senses extended far and wide.
The attack from the direction of the stronghold had nearly caught them off guard, with Yumar scrambling to shield himself and a few key members of their army. The main target had been their weakened king, with Haruka barely defending himself using a dome of raw aura that shattered upon impact.
The king’s suspicions were confirmed: there was indeed a master within that stronghold. Kugan had been fortunate to escape with his life. The pulses of power emanating from Haruka were a good sign, and Yumar rose to his feet, glancing behind him to witness the raw might of the king's nearly healed form.
According to Haruka, it hadn't been a typical physical attack. It was an assault only those within the realms of a master and above could wield, capable of shattering the very foundations of a cultivator, rendering both them and their concepts void.
Despite being a Highlord, Yumar still grappled with the teachings of the king on cultivation. His mastery of aura projection was the result of countless cycles of meditation, something he had only achieved once before when he advanced to the realm of Highlord.
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Kugan was an anomaly, advancing through raw combat as if his very nature allowed him to progress effortlessly. Yumar doubted that the Blazewing could advance to the stage of master; if even he struggled to attain the level of understanding that Haruka currently possessed.
The king opened his eyes, his golden irises glowing in the midday sun. Yumar fell to his knees, followed by the shadows of the giant wasteland creatures that had gathered to attend to the king. Many were tier 3, seeking the king’s grace to propel them to tier 4, vying for specks of his essence and aura that filled the air.
They cultivated the minute quantities their bodies could absorb without tearing themselves apart in violent explosions or slowly carving themselves up in agony. Initially, some were greedy, absorbing more than they could handle and suffering the consequences. After witnessing the fate of those who had been too eager, the rest understood the limits their primitive minds could handle.
Yumar felt a sense of pride in what they were building and understood that it would all be for nothing if they allowed the humans to destroy it before their fledgling empire rose.
First, it was the undead humans, as Haruka called them, true abominations of nature who had tricked a faction of their Corespawns into following them. Yumar had been indifferent, as he never approved of humans trying to cultivate through the cores of fellow creatures.
Then, the Heralds, as Haruka referred to them, arrived to investigate, ignoring the king and pushing deep into their territory without regard, slaughtering his kin and other wasteland creatures. That was the breaking point for Haruka. The king broke through to the realm of master just as Yumar pushed them and their forces away from their territories.
He had been a simple Sandshard, fortunate enough to come across the king and be taken in as his companion, advancing as he gained sentience and now at the realm of Highlord, shedding his once monstrous form for that of a human, but retaining all the strength granted to him.
“Yumar,” Haruka’s voice rippled out in a wave of raw aura.
“My king,” he replied, pride evident in his voice.
“Gather the forces and send them to Kugan.”
Yumar raised his head, staring into the luminous eyes of his king, his heart pounding.
“Is it time, my king?” he asked.
“Almost, Yumar,” the king replied. “Almost.”
*******************************
Tunde went through six swords before he was able to perfect his new imbuement technique. Sweat coated his body as he dropped the shattered remnants of the thirteenth blade, a wide smile spreading across his face. Meanwhile, Miria had managed to modify the imbuement technique of the Twilight Sword Art, perspiration evident where she stood with her whip-blade in hand. She glanced over at Tunde, observing the dark grey Ethra enveloping his hand, and a smile appeared on his face.
“Is that it?” she asked.
Tunde clenched his fists together, nodding absentmindedly as he felt his Ethra lines swell with the power within him.
[Unnamed imbuement technique created!] Ifa wrote.
Tunde felt the roiling power and panted softly as a wet sheen of sweat covered his skin, his upper robes discarded in a corner of the room. He let the power dissipate, flicking his wrists as he drank from a leather skin.
“What are you going to call it?” Miria asked curiously.
“It isn’t complete yet,” Tunde said as he glanced at her, watching her settle into the lotus position, preparing to cultivate again. “Yours?” he asked.
Miria stretched one hand out, and pure black Ethra covered her arm, shaping itself into a thin layer that blotted out her hand. Tunde could sense the lethality from where he stood, his Ethra sight revealing it to be a thin layer of Ethra capable of cutting through almost anything.
“Shroud Blade,” she said.
Tunde glanced at the technique and then back at her. “Because it completely hides your hand?” he asked, and she nodded.
He looked back at his hand, gathering Void Touch as the power seemed to swell within his fists before triggering his new technique. He watched as the Ethra pulsed from within. He shot his fist out, the technique exploding right in front of him, throwing him backward with a violent force.
Tunde crashed into the ground, wheezing and blinking, as Miria stood in front of him, holding his head, his ears ringing. It felt as if the explosion had gone off right next to his ears. Sitting up as the ringing subsided, Miria asked, “What was that?” incredulously.
Tunde glanced at his hand. There was no bleeding, only a deep ache emanating from within his bones.
“Void Touch,” he whispered as he blinked rapidly, struggling to get to his feet.
“I’ve seen Void Touch; it doesn’t throw up that much damage, at least until it gets inside the body of your victims,” she noted.
Tunde shook his head. “Yes, inner damage that explodes outwards,” he said as he stared at his hands. “This one, though, would tear through my opponent before it reaches their insides,” he explained.
“Your techniques seem suited for facing rift creatures rather than cultivators, especially this one,” Miria said with a frown.
“What do you mean?” Tunde asked as he got to his feet.
Miria gestured at him. “In my experience, techniques are often created partly for their beauty as well as their deadliness,” she began. “Something to dazzle while showing how lethal they can be. Do you see yourself using this technique for show in the slightest bit?” she asked.
Tunde clenched his fist, the screen still asking him to name the technique. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “I make them to kill, not to impress.”
Steadying his Ethra within his body, he called up Ifa again, placing his two projection techniques next to the Blazing Wrath Fist of the Boundless Wrath Sect.
[Void Sphere: The Void Sphere is a devastating projection technique that channels concentrated cosmic Ethra into a compact, orb-like form. This sphere, infused with void energy, is hurled towards the opponent with incredible force. Upon making contact, the Void Sphere smashes into the target, creating an initial impact before unleashing a violent explosion of void energy.
Void Discs: Void Discs are razor-sharp, circular projections of concentrated cosmic Ethra, imbued with void energy. These discs are designed to slice into the opponent upon contact. Once embedded, the void energy within the discs detonates, resulting in a violent explosion that rends flesh and armor alike.
Blazing Wrath Fist: The cultivator channels their Ethra into their fists, causing them to glow with a fiery aura. Upon striking, the concentrated Ethra is released in a powerful blast, capable of burning through defenses and causing significant damage.]
With three imbuement techniques at his disposal, Tunde stared at all three with a thoughtful expression. He gathered Void Sphere, noting a significant difference as it felt weighted, no doubt a result of his force Ethra. However, it also felt more malleable, as if its very nature was constantly changing. His attention was drawn to Miria, whose eyes were closed, but she had tendrils of pitch-black, liquid limbs undulating around her.
In a flash, one of the limbs shot out, perfectly slicing a jar in two rather than smashing it. Tunde watched the jar crash to the ground in two perfect halves.
“While I can’t wield blade Ethra,” Miria started as she opened her eyes, “I can at least copy it. Turns out I’ve been using my shadow limbs incorrectly,” she said, pausing with wide eyes. “Shadow limbs…hmm…Shadow’s Embrace?” she said hesitantly.
“You’re asking the wrong person for naming advice. I haven’t even given my imbuement technique a name yet,” Tunde chuckled.
The limbs, now eight in number, seemed to move of their own accord, and Miria stared at them with something akin to fondness in her eyes. “They steadily eat into my core. The more I summon, the more stress on my core, with eight being my limit,” she explained. They vanished, pooling back beneath her as she exhaled, cracking her neck and glancing at him.
Tunde had a twinkle in his eyes as he turned back to the Void Sphere, which glowed and rippled like liquid. With a thought, he fed more Ethra into the Void Sphere, watching as the technique stretched to its limit, unable to bear the Ethra’s weight he force-fed it.
The next step took a bit of willpower as Tunde began to picture the idea in his mind’s eye. He found it amusing that he hadn’t considered this before, despite witnessing other cultivators do it with their projection techniques. He empowered the technique's shell, watching as it withstood the roiling energies within it, elongating as it took the shape of a spear. He didn’t know how long had passed, but Tunde watched as a dark grey spear glowing with Ethra took form above his outstretched hand.
Stabilizing it, he took a deep breath, gathering his focus again before he shrunk it back to a void, feeling it take that shape back with relative ease. The sphere was its original form anyway, and he was content with a glob of raw explosive power. Then he stretched it again, creating something that, this time, he had to sit on the ground to achieve.
A fist, a shimmering liquid fist, hovered above him, this one putting more strain on him to maintain. Tunde released it back to its sphere shape, sighing in relief.
“That’s… new,” Miria said as Tunde glanced at her, shaking his head. “I’d grown so accustomed to using the sphere and disc shapes that I didn’t think to ask if I could shape them into something else,” he replied, stretching his hands out. “But I suspect without force Ethra providing physical steadiness and weight, it would have been impossible,” he added.
Lying on the ground, breathing heavily, he stared at the stone roof. “When do you think they’ll attack? The king, I mean,” Miria asked from where she sat. Tunde shrugged. “Hard to say. Whatever’s keeping the king busy for now, we can only hope it lasts long enough until we’re ready,” he replied.
“Can we ever be ready?” Miria asked again, causing Tunde to frown and glance at her.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
She sighed. “It’s going to be a bloodbath. We can only prepare for as long as we can,” she began. “But the longer this goes on, the more paranoid the people will become. Already, there are whispers of people wanting to flee back into the empire proper.”
“They fear a repeat of Jade Peak,” Tunde said as she nodded. “Jade Peak stood for more than a hundred years, Tunde. Its fall shouldn’t have been that easy,” Miria said softly.
He wanted to point out that the influence of the revenant clan and the foolishness of the clan’s patriarch had caused it, but he saw her point. A great bastion had fallen in mere hours, assaulted by a single Highlord and multiple lords, an embarrassing defeat.
Tunde sat up, turning to her with the cultivation manual of the Boundless Wrath Sect in front of him. “I owe it to the people of Black Rock not to let this place fall,” he began as she stared at him. “They have suffered too much and placed their faith in us. We can’t let them down,” he continued.
He felt his body suffuse with the entwined Ethras of cosmic and force affinities, gathering his imbuement technique in his fist again. “I will stand against the forces of the king until I can fight no more,” he said.
His arm pulsed with power as Tunde dispersed it again. “Sometimes, I think I’ve buried the pain of his passing, his death, and all that has happened to me beneath layers of training and battles,” he said.
“But I intend to let loose this time, to show those creatures and true beasts my wrath, his wrath,” Tunde declared as the technique gathered again, Tunde staring at its pulsing power in his fist.
“Joran’s Wrath,” he finished with a smile.
[Imbuement technique named!]
***************************
Rhaelar extended her aura as far as she could, covering dozens of miles and suffusing the air with her presence. For hours, she had sensed the subtle rise in power emanating from the wastelands, and she knew what it meant—Haruka was coming. The last of his soul-based injuries had yet to heal, but she understood it was only a matter of time before they did.
The very sands seemed to hum with his power, and she couldn't help but wonder why they had let this particular threat persist for so long. Still, that was why she had been sent—to clean up the stains of the clan, to erase the blemish from their pristine heritage. And she would do it with the precision of a master assassin.
**********************
Varis stared at the battered form of the wasteland woman who had accompanied Tunde. Surrounded by jeering lords of the army in their black Ethereon armor, she refused to back down. With one eye swollen, a split lip, and an oversized sword chipped so badly that Varis suspected she only swung it around as a blunt weapon, she stood her ground.
Apparently, she had tried sneaking into the stronghold unsupervised, likely searching for Tunde. Varis watched, assessing her worth as she crashed over and over into the bored warriors who used her to pass the time.
The first of them who noticed him floating above blanched with horror, dropping to his knees and bowing his head as the others turned to look. Confusion quickly turned to realization as they shouted their greetings. Varis ignored them, focusing solely on the wastelander.
"You must have known it was foolishness trying to sneak past them, reeking of blood and flesh Ethra," he said calmly.
"I wanted to see him," she replied, spitting out a broken tooth.
It would heal quickly, as blood, bone, and flesh cultivators possessed an annoying abnormal healing speed.
"I don't fault you for your affinities," he said dispassionately. "But in civilized places like the empire, they are employed by cowards and filthy cultivators. Why shouldn't I turn you to ash where you stand?" he asked, his tone curious.
She shouldered the large blade effortlessly, and Varis silently acknowledged the raw strength coursing through her body as she spoke. "Then I'll die on my feet," she said, her eyes cold.
Varis observed her for a few moments before folding his hands behind his back. "You should be more concerned about your own life than Tunde's. He's growing stronger, while you remain an adept, unable to advance to lord and reach your true potential," he began. "But I can help you—not because I care about you or see you as anything more than an insect, but because you may prove useful to both me and him in the long run," he finished.
Sera didn’t break eye contact with him, something few cultivators could manage. Varis felt a twinge of admiration.
"How?" she asked, blunt as a dull weapon. Varis intended to work with that.
"It is said that wastelanders enjoy the thrill of battle. Let’s test that out," he started. "Make it to the doors of the stronghold without dying to these cultivators who will attempt to stop you with only blunt aura attacks, and find out," he replied, rising back up as the rankers surrounded her.
She spat again, a bloody grin on her face as Varis watched her throw herself at the warriors with reckless abandon.