Tunde woke to the sunlight and loud noises within the forest, springing to his feet wordlessly with his flint knife in hand, its chipped blade edged with his Ethra. His footsteps echoed silently within the cave as he carefully rolled the boulder away, crouching while maintaining complete silence.
The loud noises came again as the forest came alive—the roaring of creatures and explosions echoed in the distance. Tunde made his way to the ledge, hopping upwards before concealing himself within the foliage, Ethra sight activated as he stared into the distance, watching human shapes throw Ethra-based attacks at each other.
Disciples.
Pondering the implications for a few seconds, he moved, tearing across the forest and away from their direction. Whatever had brought them there was none of his business. He had his own task: to get stronger. Besides, most were mid-rankers, with a few peaks he could see. The few early rankers wisely kept their distance. As he shot across the landscape, he almost stumbled at the power he felt—brushing past a shot of energy from far away. He stopped and turned in the direction of the power. It shot skyward in a column of golden and dark energy, tightly wreathed together like strands of hair.
Switching off his Ethra sight, the distance revealed nothing. But with its return, he saw it clearly again. Whatever it was, it was packed with raw Ethra—not pure, but something that could either be beneficial or teeming with danger. Besides, the path to the middle of the Tier 2 realm was in the opposite direction, and he should be relatively safe. Equipped with nothing but his pants and his void ring, Tunde began making his way toward the column, allowing his Ethra sight to guide him.
The awareness of the disciples closing in behind him was a constant reminder that he was no longer alone in the forest. Whatever house they were from—or if they were even members of the clan—remained to be seen. And yet, it looked like they were after the same thing: the column of power. He shifted his direction, intending to take a longer route when he noticed they changed their direction as well, confirming his suspicion. They were tracking him. But how? Besides, how were they tracking the column if it wasn’t visible by normal sight?
With one leap, he went up the trees, freezing on a branch as he awaited their arrival. One way or another, he would get his answers.
************************
The three disciples of House Verdant Arbor paused as they reached the location their tracker had pinpointed. Gale, peak disciple, and team leader, halted as Tavion bent low, touching the forest ground in silence before nodding and turning to them.
“He was here a few minutes ago, and then his tracks disappear completely,” Tavion said.
Gale nodded, glancing upwards into the trees, his eyes scanning the branches, while Jezar, the last member of their team, looked around as well.
“Is this really necessary?” Jezar asked. “We could just push for the rift itself. Why hunt down a single wastelander who might have gone mad in the forest?”
Gale nodded, turning to her. “He’s the elder’s student. He has to know something about the rift. Besides, I don’t see why the elder would abandon his student in such a dangerous place.”
Truth be told, Gale was working under orders from his house head. It seemed someone high up in the clan hierarchy wanted the wastelander dead. That meant access to resources and front-line opportunities when the surge hit. Gale bore no ill will toward the wastelander, but that was how things worked in the world of cultivators. His great hammer, strapped to his back, was a disciple-ranked weapon made with Ethra-infused steel. It needed an upgrade, and with the “accidental” death of the elder’s student, Gale was sure he would be rewarded by their house adept.
Tavion stood straight, pointing upwards. Gale nodded, thinking the same thing. He watched as Tavion drew three arrows from his quiver, imbuing them with his Ethra. They shone green as he released them into the trees. The arrows exploded into vines, twisting and forming an intricate web, ensnaring the branches and any creature, human or otherwise, among them. The imbuement skill, which transformed into a projection skill upon release, took a lot out of the tracker. Tavion quickly swallowed an Ethra elixir to replenish his reserves.
That was why Gale was there—to protect the tracker while Jezar went on the attack. Tavion nodded, squinting through the trees.
“Well?” Gale asked.
“My vines felt a disturbance—definitely human, although—” was all the tracker said before his head suddenly snapped to the side, his body following suit.
Gale’s hammer was already in hand, cycling his Ethra as he imbued it with his affinity. The weapon swung with the force of a boulder, but its target had already vanished, disappearing as quickly as he had arrived. Jezar moved instantly, clashing with the ranker. Gale stood beside the unconscious tracker, staring in disbelief. They hadn’t sensed the ranker’s arrival—it was as though he had no aura. It was impossible. But what was even more impossible was an initiate knocking out a disciple with a single blow.
Turning to where Jezar traded icy blue blows with the wastelander, Gale felt the power behind the strikes as he shouted, “Disciple rank!”
Jezar unleashed her technique, a large torrent of ice gathering above her, forming icicles that shot toward the wastelander. The ranker danced between the attacks with single-minded precision, ignoring the icicles stabbing at his body as he pushed forward. Jezar retreated, her eyes wide. The information they’d been given was wrong. Their adept had told them he was nothing but a peak initiate. How had he grown to disciple rank? Wasn’t this the same initiate who had caused a ruckus a few days earlier by defeating a group of high-ranking initiates by himself?
Even as he tried to process this, Jezar pushed toward him, her intent clear. Gale rushed the ranker, his hammer swinging as raw rocks tore from the ground, fusing with his weapon to smash the ranker in two. Jezar created an ice barrier, visibly sagging, while the ranker twisted away from Gale’s attack, giving her space to retreat to the now-stirring Tavion.
“About time,” Gale thought, standing between his teammates and the wastelander.
The ranker looked like a wild animal—bare-chested, with tattered pants barely hiding his nakedness. But it was the wildness in his eyes that set Gale on edge. The dark-skinned ranker held a short knife, its blade imbued with Ethra.
“Why are you hunting me?” he asked quietly, his voice soft, as though he hadn’t used it in a long time.
“You nearly killed my friend. Are you aware of the consequences of that, wastelander?” Gale replied.
The ranker narrowed his eyes, and the black band on his wrist glinted, drawing Gale’s attention for a second before he refocused on the ranker.
“Why do you call me that?” the ranker asked, again quietly.
Gale imbued his body, drawing deeply on his Ethra as he pulled an Ethra elixir from his void ring, swallowing it in one gulp to replenish his reserves. Four hundred lumens gone in an instant. His body shimmered as raw rocks and stones fused with him, forming armor that covered everything but his eyes. His hammer, too, became encased. His *Earthshroud* imbuement technique turned him into a walking fortress—no weaknesses, nothing for some unruly ranker to take advantage of.
“Because you are wasteland filth, an insult to the proper rankers of the empire and Verdant clan. And because we hope to relieve the venerable elder of your burden,” Gale responded.
With his imbuement, it would be hard for him to use projection without depleting his core, but he doubted he’d be pushed that far. Besides, with Tavion already getting to his feet and Jezar as well, the ranker was as good as dead.
“To be clear, you want to kill me?” the wastelander asked again.
Gale nodded. “Very perceptive of you. Unfortunately, yes.”
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The ranker nodded, taking a stance. He returned his blade to his void ring, fists clenched as he stared Gale down. Unconsciously, Gale gripped his hammer tighter, a sense of dread filling his body. He quickly stamped it out, wondering why he had reacted like he was facing down a beast.
“You’ll regret doing that,” Gale said, referring to the knife.
“I skin dead creatures with it. You’re not dead yet,” the ranker replied.
Both sides burst into action immediately.
*******************************
Elyria had wanted to attack the moment the ranker from House Verdant Arbor confirmed her fears. Rhyn gripped her tightly, holding her back as she stared at him with pure, unspoken lethality. The Verdant ranker was unfazed, shaking his head silently before turning back to where the disciples prepared for battle. He had been the one suspicious when the rankers of Verdant Arbor veered off course from the general direction of the rift, moving in the opposite direction.
Elyria had wanted to protest. Unlike the clan heir himself, she wasn’t as buoyant in the long run—she still needed resources to bolster her heart and body—but Rhyn had been adamant. And while she wouldn’t admit it, she was grateful.
Tunde had no rift finder, the small compass-like instrument given to each team to help them locate rifts. Theirs was currently held by Sorin, who watched the ensuing battle with rapt attention. No doubt she was as surprised as the rest of them—Tunde advancing to disciple rank had caught them all off guard.
How many resources had the elder dumped into him to push him to disciple rank so quickly? Was that why the elder had asked her about the mysterious bone she had found on her continent—the one she had casually tossed to Tunde to help with his tempering process?
But all those questions paled in comparison to the strangest fact: he had no aura. Not a single hint of it emanated from him. It was as if he wasn’t even there unless seen physically. And the moment he used his bare fist to clash with the stone-imbued hammer of the disciple and came out unscathed, Elyria relented, her curiosity piqued.
How strong had he become in such a short time? What kind of techniques had the elder taught him? Glancing at both Rhyn and Sorin, whose faces were glued to the battle, Elyria knew they were just as interested—not as concerned friends, but as fellow disciples.
It was a startling realization, to be honest. Tunde had gone from an existence they barely acknowledged to a potential threat. Well, perhaps not a threat on the same level as Rhyn, Sorin, or herself, but to disciples in general, judging by the battle happening below.
Rhyn turned to her.
“If it gets to the point of death, we step in,” he said.
“Whose death?” Elyria asked mildly, a smile tugging at her lips.
Rhyn frowned before turning back to the fight.
“Theirs, I believe,” he replied.
****************
Tunde clashed with the hammer, feeling the blow resonate through his body as both parties took a step back. A pike of ice shot toward him, but he was out of the way in an instant. Ethra sight picked out the weak points of the stone armor the leader wore, which bled Ethra continuously. Tunde considered using resonance but was unsure of the result. He could end the fight in one fatal blow if he wanted to, but he needed answers.
Taking a stone from his void ring and imbuing it with resonance, he flicked it toward the pike in the air. The projection technique exploded into mist, catching the ice Ethra user off guard as she reeled from the attack she hadn’t seen. Imbuing his body with Ethra, Tunde clashed with the hammer again, shattering the rock around it and denting the metal before dodging the fist of the peak disciple, fully aware of the devastating damage it held.
He had no elixirs, while the ranker did. That alone put him at a disadvantage.
“Who sent you?” Tunde asked.
“Dead men need no answers,” the stone ranker responded as arrows flew toward him—no doubt the same technique from the bow user.
Tunde flicked another stone imbued with resonance toward the bow user, the attack detonating against a swirling ice barrier. The girl crashed to the ground, shock filling her eyes.
“What underhanded techniques are you using?” the stone user growled.
Rolling out of the vine cage, Tunde clashed with the stone user again, Ethra cycling to his limit as he allowed resonance to bleed through his fist, slamming it into the stone user’s chest. The explosion ripped away the stone armor, and the ranker spat blood as he rolled to a stop in front of his teammates. Tunde stood straight, flicking away the slight pain in his fist. Was this the strength of a peak disciple? Perhaps he had given the ranker too much credit.
“I’ll ask again. Who sent you?” he said softly.
The bow user drew back his bow, an arrow glowing with green Ethra as he released it. Tunde flicked another stone, imbued with resonance, and released it. Both attacks exploded in mid-air, the force of the blast tearing the space between them. The bow user stared with wide eyes.
“You’re defeated, weak. Maybe thinking of taking another elixir?” Tunde said calmly. “Try it, and you’re dead. Don’t test me.”
“Wasteland filth!” the girl growled.
“Anything else to add?” Tunde asked, turning toward her.
The stone user produced a scroll, unfurling it as strange symbols flew out, swirling in the air and solidifying. Two large stone creatures manifested—feline in shape, glowing yellow eyes glaring as they snarled at him.
“Kill,” the stone user ordered.
As the creatures lunged, Tunde released two resonances, blowing them to smithereens just as he clashed with them in the air. He landed calmly, seeing terror written all over the faces of the three rankers.
“They have no cores,” Tunde said, confused.
“What?” the stone ranker whispered in shock.
“The tier 2 creatures—they have no cores,” Tunde repeated.
The stone user swallowed nervously, staring at him as they scrambled backward together.
“If you kill us, the clan will come down on you!” the bow user shouted, his voice filled with fear.
“But you came to kill me. That makes it fair,” Tunde responded, walking calmly toward them.
He could see the stone user struggling to breathe, Tunde crushing his armor at its strongest joint, shattering it near his heart with an explosion of pure destructive force, likely damaging his heart in the process.
“You have no evidence!” the girl stammered.
“He does,” a voice said, coming from the trees as Tunde went on guard.
He stared in surprise as Elyria, Rhyn, and a girl who looked familiar, though he couldn’t place her, landed and walked toward him.
“Rhyn! Thank the Hegemons! This wasteland filth attacked us, intending to ki—" was all the stone ranker managed to say before Rhyn disappeared, reappearing in front of the ranker, his blade sheathed.
Tunde froze, his instincts screaming at him. When had Rhyn moved? When had he even drawn his blade? He could have sworn it was still sheathed. Yet, as he watched, the head of the stone ranker rolled off his shoulders, blood spurting into the faces of his two companions, who stared in horror.
“You killed him,” the girl whispered, terror in her eyes.
“Rankers of House Verdant Arbor,” Rhyn said formally, even as Tunde inched backward, away from the peak disciple.
Elyria’s hand on his shoulder jolted him from his wariness as she smiled warmly at him. A small silver, round flying object whizzed past them to settle beside Rhyn.
“By the authority vested in me as head monitor of this rift run, and with evidence gathered by the sentinel beside me, transmitting this situation directly to the clan, and with the testimony of disciple Elyria and Sorin of House Argent Rose,” Rhyn continued, “I hereby accuse you of attempting to murder a fellow disciple despite the warnings of the clan, and an honored student of Elder Joran as well. As per the instructions, you are hereby stripped of your ranks within the clan and left to the justice of the clan.”
“You are to remain in your current positions without moving. Any deviation will result in my authority to execute you,” Rhyn concluded.
Tunde wasn’t sure the rankers of House Verdant Arbor were even capable of moving, frozen as they were in shock. Even he stared at Rhyn in a whole new light. The disciple was the real deal—the peak he had to reach in the disciple rank. Even his Ethra sight revealed no weaknesses, and the weapon Rhyn carried was no ordinary weapon.
Elyria spoke first. “Disciple rank? I’m impressed,” she said.
Tunde smiled faintly, nodding to her. “Thank you,” he said softly.
She rolled her eyes. “We’re peers now. Act like it,” she replied, making him look a little awkward.
“What did they want with you?” the unfamiliar girl asked.
Tunde shook his head. “I have no idea. I was minding my own business when they accosted me.”
“Going where?” Rhyn asked, his eyes now on Tunde.
Tunde came close to bowing, the sheer presence of the disciple sending a cold feeling down his spine. “Elder Joran brought me to the forest to train. I continue to do so,” he replied.
“So you’re saying you had no idea about the rift within the Tier 2 zone?” the girl asked again.
Throughout the exchange, Elyria kept silent, her lips pursed in displeasure as she watched.
“There’s a rift within this zone?” Tunde asked, surprise in his voice.
Rhyn eyed him before folding his hands behind his back and turning away, walking toward the trees. He paused, turning to Tunde and throwing him something.
“Here,” Rhyn said as Tunde caught it.
It was a small circular silver item, pointing in the direction of the rift.
“That’s a rift finder. It reveals the location of a rift—the one every disciple in this forest is hunting for,” Rhyn explained.
A large, ape-like creature with red skin and six arms landed behind Rhyn with a roar. Tunde shouted a warning, but the strange girl was already there, two silver blades in hand as she became a blur, appearing next to Rhyn after cutting the creature down. Rhyn continued like he hadn’t just been attacked by a Tier 2 monster.
“Use it to locate the rift and enter it. You’ll be on your own from that point forward, as you don’t belong to our house. Good luck,” Rhyn finished.
The ape creature fell in perfectly sliced chunks of blood and gore. Rhyn hopped over it and continued walking, the girl by his side. Elyria sighed, turning to Tunde with a smile.
“You’re getting there,” she said.
“How about… I mean, have you heard from—" Tunde started, but she placed a finger to her lips, warning him.
He slapped his mouth shut, nodding and bowing to her. “It was nice seeing you, Elyria,” he said.
“And you, too, Tunde,” she replied before leaving.
He watched them fade back into the trees, then turned to the still-shocked rankers of House Verdant Arbor. Calmly, he walked closer and picked the bloodstained void ring off the finger of the dead ranker. Turning to the remaining two, who watched him in stunned silence, he spoke, his voice cold and detached.
“Your void rings. Now.”