The five insects guarding the queen stood in opposition, the entire hive ablaze around them. The buzzing of their wings clashed with the crackling of flames, while the dying shrieks of the hive filled the air. Relic blade in hand, Tunde pumped as little Ethra as possible through its frame, preparing for what was undoubtedly the deadliest fight of his life so far. The guards were mid-tier 2, judging from their raw strength. The queen, however, was undeniably peak tier 2. This realization meant two things.

First, their venom could be far more potent than the average hive member’s. While Tunde had forced his body to develop some immunity to the hive’s venom, he wasn’t about to subject himself to another round of even deadlier toxins. Second, fighting five mid-tier tier 2 creatures simultaneously—relic or not—was no small feat. His heart beat steadily, Ethra flowing through his body as he adjusted to the overwhelming heat and fire. His Ethra sight strained to pick out the details of the insects' anatomy amidst the chaos, but he had no choice—he dove into battle.

The guards attacked, one of them leading with its stinger aimed directly at him. Its six barbed legs shot toward him with terrifying precision. Tunde moved, relic flashing as he severed two legs, narrowly dodging the stinger. Rolling away, he avoided another guard's strike and sliced cleanly through the pincers of a third, the creature’s shriek of agony piercing the air. Their speed was dizzying, but the trails left by his Ethra sight helped him keep up, even as the queen shrieked in fury from the center of the room.

The guards began spitting venom with blistering speed, each shot deadly enough to punch clean through his body. Eyes wide, Tunde bolted across the room, relying solely on his sight and enhanced speed to survive. Disciple-ranked Ethra pushed him to near-superhuman speeds, allowing him to close in on one of the guards. He plunged his blade into its body, dragging it down to the bubbling floor below as gravity did the rest.

A buzzing guard closed in from behind, and as Tunde twisted to evade, its stinger grazed his skin. Pain flared, but not the full-on agony he had experienced when he’d first absorbed the venom of two creatures. Punching the guard away, its exoskeleton denting under the force, Tunde pushed toward the queen. Killing her would throw the hive into chaos. But as soon as he made his move, a larger insect burst from the folds of the queen’s constricted body. Its all-black exoskeleton gleamed in the firelight, and it shot toward Tunde faster than he could react.

Bringing his blade up in desperation, he hoped to slice the creature in two, but it vanished in a blink. A sharp, searing pain tore through his ribs, and Tunde screamed as the creature grabbed him by the throat, lifting him into the air. Its pure black eyes bore into him, and Tunde could feel its power—peak disciple rank. The pressure was crushing.

The creature removed the sharp limb it had stabbed him with, preparing to skewer him again. But Tunde’s free hand moved fast, slicing the limb holding him clean off. The insect and the queen shrieked in unison. As he fell, Tunde hastily opened his void ring, guzzling a healing elixir—one of only two left.

With no life elixir remaining and only one vitality elixir, Tunde knew he was running on fumes. He had bitten off more than he could chew, and now, death felt closer than ever. Snarling, he shoved the thought aside and refocused on the fight. The insect king and the four remaining guards closed in, and Tunde wasn’t sure how he’d even killed one of them. The king had no stinger, but its weaponized limbs and razor-sharp mandibles would easily tear him apart.

He held his ground, gripping his blade as his Ethra sight flared. Heart pounding, adrenaline surging, Tunde paused—an idea forming. He opened his void ring and pulled out the Venomspike scorpion stinger he’d intended to sell in the city. The appendage still dripped with venom. With all the strength his disciple rank afforded him, Tunde hurled the stinger at the queen.

The insects tried to dodge, but they weren’t his target—the queen was. The stinger pierced her bloated abdomen, and the queen shrieked, the force of it driving everything in the hive to its knees, Tunde included. His ears rang, and his vision blurred, but he knew he couldn’t stop now—not when he’d finally struck a devastating blow.

Struggling to his feet, Tunde breathed heavily, his head throbbing as pain spiked through his skull. He reached into his void ring once more and pulled out a torch stick, an item he’d nearly discarded to make space. Whatever the bandit who once owned it had intended, it wasn’t what Tunde had in mind now. He ignited it with Ethra and sprinted toward the queen, her abdomen leaking black liquid.

The insect king screamed orders to the guards, but it was too late. Multiple stingers pierced Tunde’s back, venom raging through his body in a torrent that nearly made him pass out. Gritting his teeth, he powered through the pain and rammed the burning torch into the queen’s abdomen.

The flames spread instantly, the queen swelling grotesquely before exploding in a concussive wave of air, fire, and Ethra. All Tunde saw was white as the explosion tore through the hive. His void ring opened automatically, and the vitality elixir was in his mouth before he even realized it. He flew through the air, deaf and blind, the ringing in his ears unbearable, before crashing to the ground with such force that everything went black for a few minutes.

***********************

Thalas snapped open his eyes, breaking his meditation as the explosion echoed through the forest, coming from the direction of the hive. The other disciples had arrived. Cursing his tardiness, he watched as the rift finished forming, pure Ethra gushing from it and empowering the plants and trees around him. This was when the rift was at its strongest, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else beat him to its resources. *Let them deal with the hive*—or better yet, squabble over a few measly tier 2 cores. That would only make things easier for him.

Without another thought, Thalas Verdan stepped through the rift, leaving the troubles of reality behind.

***************************

When Tunde regained consciousness, his entire body screamed in agony. Every muscle, fiber, and bone ached as he croaked out a weak sound, swallowing painfully. His eyes fluttered open to a scene filled with ash and soot, the air thick with the remnants of the battle. Slowly, he cycled his Ethra, his numb body beginning to reduce the pain. Coughing, Tunde spat out thick, black blood, rolling to his side despite the sharp protests from his body. His stomach lurched, and he retched more black blood—his body purging the remaining venom from the insects. The stench was enough to make him gag.

Crawling away, Tunde opened his void ring, searching for a leatherskin of clean water. Finding one, he gulped it down, rinsing his mouth as his head throbbed, the ringing in his ears still persisting. Blinking twice to clear his vision, he struggled to his feet and surveyed the carnage he had unleashed.

All around him lay the charred bodies of insects, the trees smoldering, and a crater marking the center of the destruction. The guards and the insect king were dead, their bodies smoking heaps amidst the wreckage. Tunde supposed he should thank the hegemons that the insects were so flammable. His own burned skin was a painful reminder of how close he’d come to death. His Ethra worked slowly to heal him, the stinging burns a reminder that he had narrowly escaped death.

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He turned his gaze to the insect king, the large creature that had emerged from the queen’s body. It lay on the ground, its wings buzzing weakly, its lower half missing. One mandible was melted to slag, and it stared at him with a look that could only be described as rage. The smell of its burning innards made Tunde gag again, but he forced himself forward.

Attempting to summon his relic blade brought a spike of hot pain through his skull, and he fell to his knees, screaming in agony. When the pain subsided, he crawled to the half-dead king, gripping his skinning blade. Imbuing it with Ethra, he got to his feet, swaying slightly. With a hoarse scream, he plunged the blade into the king’s exoskeleton, ending its life. The creature shuddered, and Tunde collapsed beside it, breathing heavily. His skin burned, his eyes stung, and his throat remained painfully parched, but at least it was over.

With trembling hands, he drank the last of his healing elixir, feeling it work its magic as he closed his eyes and cycled the Ethra his band had absorbed from the insects. He fell into a deep sleep amidst the carnage, his body too exhausted to resist.

Tunde woke to the sound of something scraping nearby. Grabbing the flint knife from the insect’s corpse, he stood, Ethra sight activated. He spotted the source of the noise—a small rodent that scurried away into the forest. He exhaled, realizing his body had fully healed. His skin was smooth again, though the scars he had gained before becoming an initiate remained. Calmly, he moved through the remains of the hive, lamenting the loss of more cores than he could count. His Ethra sight guided him to the ones that remained, and he methodically harvested them, tearing them from the charred remains.

As he worked, Tunde reflected on the battle. He had just won his first true fight against a peak tier 2 creature, albeit with underhanded tactics. To expect him to win in a fair fight would have been foolish, not against those insects. Now that he had survived, it was time to reap the rewards.

He reached the queen’s remains, staring down at the large golden core nestled within her cracked abdomen, surrounded by piles of melted flesh. Surprisingly, more of her body had survived than he’d expected, including her skull and parts of her upper body, which still leaked golden fluid. Tunde speculated that the scorpion venom had turned her blood black back in the hive. Carefully, he drained as much of the golden liquid as he could into a container—it could prove valuable.

Securing the cores in his void ring, Tunde made his way out of the crater. He looked at himself in disgust—his pants were half-burned, and the weather was growing colder. With nothing to wear, he pushed himself back toward the ledge he had fallen through, navigating the destroyed swamp and returning to the hole where he had conducted his experiment. Using a boulder to block the entrance, he settled inside, lighting a fire with another torch stick. Shivering slightly, he wrapped his arms around his legs and stared into the flames.

In the quiet of the cave, Tunde mulled over the battle. He realized he could have died—should have died. Quick thinking and his unconventional fighting methods had saved him from becoming insect food, but he knew he couldn’t rely on luck forever. The element of surprise had worked this time, but who knew if it would save him again?

Taking out his remaining tier 2 meats and fruits, Tunde sighed. He was down to his last meal, excluding the roasted scorpion meat. The full weight of advancement settled on him—it wasn’t just near-death battles; it was also the constant drain on resources.

Eating in silence, Tunde contemplated his next move. He had no free resources, no free food—just his wits and body. Advancement meant taking risks, and he was living proof of that. Picking up a stone, he closed his eyes, assessing his body’s condition. Outwardly, he seemed fit, but internally, he could feel the strain. He needed rest—a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

At most, he could manage two or three resonances before his body locked up, leaving him vulnerable. It was concerning, as resonance was his ultimate technique. As he threw the stone deeper into the cave, an idea struck him.

What if I could extend resonance? What if I could have miniature resonances ready at all times, without using their full power but with enough force behind them?

He picked up another rock, carefully channeling resonance into it. The stone exploded into fine sand in his hand. Cursing, he realized that resonance wasn’t meant to be infused into something solid like that. Still stumped but determined, Tunde picked up another rock, trying a different method. This time, he coated the rock with starry black Ethra, cracks spreading delicately along its surface. Holding it in place with a finger’s worth of resonance, he threw the rock toward the cave wall.

It struck the wall and exploded quietly, with precision that left Tunde slack-jawed. The rock had tunneled through the cave to the outside before detonating. The force and control of the attack opened a whole new realm of possibility for him.

Projection.

Chuckling to himself, Tunde packed as many rocks as he could into his void ring. Then, lying down on the warm cave floor, he drifted off to sleep with a wide smile on his face.

********************

Elyria stood at the edge of the forest, watching the disciples gather in preparation. Rhyn and Sorin, the other disciple who had been with her and Tunde in the wastelands, were among them, donning their custom-made armor. Forged from the hides of tier 2 beasts and imbued with Ethereon, a metal highly conductive to Ethra, they were preparing for what felt like a war. It was a stark contrast to the culture in Silvershade, where a rift opening was seen as a chance for the continent-spanning forests to absorb Ethra, empowering them. There, rifts were cleared at the last moment, only when the danger of collapse or the release of abominable creatures loomed.

Rifts were strange, spatial realms inhabited by bizarre creatures but brimming with valuable resources, especially for alchemists. Those lacking the strength or manpower to enter would pay enormous sums for rare herbs and fruits to use in elixirs. Despite the allure of the resources, Elyria thought the preparations seemed excessive. However, she couldn’t deny the power radiating from this newly opened rift—it was strong enough to be felt all the way at the forest entrance. This wasn’t just any rift; it was a peak tier 2, possibly bordering on tier 3, meaning teams needed to be ready for whatever lay ahead.

Rhyn moved to her side, giving her a once-over.

“You’re not in your armor,” he pointed out.

With a small smirk, Elyria allowed her liquid metal to flow over her body, forming her armor and helmet. The long blade materialized at her side. These resources, which she had painstakingly acquired through her maid, were part of her preparation for reaching the peak of disciple rank. Her armor, imbued with Ethra, turned her into a walking tank. Rhyn gave a reluctant nod of approval as Sorin joined them.

“Why are over twenty disciples from all nine houses needed for a single rift?” Elyria asked, her voice carrying a note of skepticism.

“Word is, it’s a peak tier 2 rift, bordering on tier 3,” Rhyn replied. “That means more resources, and the disciple houses are eager to grab what they can for their initiates.”

Elyria nodded thoughtfully, glancing at the other disciples making last-minute preparations. The houses of the Jade Tower were about to descend into battle within the deadly forest—the same forest where Elder Joran had sent Tunde. Her thoughts lingered on him for a moment. She didn’t exactly pity him, but she hoped he was still alive.

Her musings were interrupted as Elder Joran appeared, swathed in his green robes, hands folded behind his back as he smiled. The assembled disciples fell to their knees in reverence. Standing atop the large defensive structure that overlooked the forest, he raised his voice.

“Within that forest lies a tier 2 rift,” he began, his voice steady. “A peak tier 2 rift, from what I’ve been told. It’s an opportunity for you all to gather last-minute resources before the beast surge.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “There will be no killing, no maiming—not when the clan needs every able-bodied disciple. You’ll have your fill of fighting when the surge begins. May the hegemons be with you.”

With that, Elder Joran vanished, though Elyria knew he was still watching. The disciples wasted no time, charging into the forest, pushing toward the domain of the tier 2 creatures. Elyria moved with them, her thoughts briefly returning to Tunde. She didn’t feel pity for him, not exactly—but she sure hoped he was still out there, alive.