Tunde got to his feet a while later, staring at the entrance to the next chamber that had ground open a while ago. Shadowfang gripped in his hand vibrating subtly, its wolf head brimming with the raw Ethra it had consumed, Tunde carefully moved towards the entrance to the next room, staring into the well-lit space. Built with holes in the walls all around him, his Ethra sight took in the surroundings, a mixture of multitudes of Ethra affinities floating weakly around. He heard the door close up behind him, the silence in the air somehow loud as his footsteps echoed softly till he stood in the middle of the room.
Right in front of him was a statue of some cultivator, body sculpted in some posture that looked unlike the stance of a fighter. Something shimmered into existence in front of him as he took a step back, staring at the human figure with all its features covered in a large robe. Only the thin-looking fingers that firmly grasped a staff made of twisted wood stood out, nothing else, Ethra sight revealed to him that the figure was made entirely of silvery strands of Ethra and nothing else.
Had the room created the figure in front of him?, was this the test?, either way, he gripped Shadowfang tighter, preparing to attack as he began cycling his Ethra.
“Welcome, young disciple,” a female voice said, coming out of the hood of the robe.
“I am a mage of the third sphere of advancement, something you rankers of the empire refer to as adept rank,” she said.
Tunde idly wondered why there wasn’t one unified system for rankings, tiers for beasts and resources, grades for fruits and meat, rankings for cultivators and now spheres for mages, were mages even cultivators?. The mage raised her staff as the holes in the walls began to thrum, a soft vibration that ran around the room.
“Each Ethra technique branch is unique to a school of cultivation” she continued.
That solved the case of mages being cultivators for him.
“Rankers, or those who use the fighting arts are known to favor imbuement techniques to augment their fighting styles and instruments of battle”
“Mages favor projection techniques over imbuement due to the need to conjure spells and dominion techniques are favored by cultivators who follow the mixed art of soul and mind techniques famous within the Crystalreach and Ironthorn continents” she finished.
Tunde’s gaze sharpened with the name of his continent, were these the weavers Thorne had once spoken about?.
“This is not to say cultivators don’t practice all three Ethra branch techniques, however as they advance in rank, most begin to focus more on one branch over the other as your teachers would have no doubt explained to you,” she said.
No one had told him that, the mage tapped the staff on the ground, the holes beginning to thrum louder as Tunde watched Ethra begin to accumulate from within them with his sight.
“In this stage, I will help you hone your projection technique for battle, should you surpass my expectations, you may proceed to the domain of souls and dreams,” she said.
“There are ten holes within the wall, each with a different elemental affinity. Water, earth, fire, and air make up the first ten holes at the uppermost parts of the walls” she said, indicating to the top where Tunde saw said affinities beginning to build up power.
“Ice, lightning, and lava make up the lower five in disproportionate amounts” she continued.
“This is to provide unpredictability in this exercise, no doubt, you know how to use projection techniques, but in the eventuality that you do not, this is a demonstration” she stated.
Another conjured figure appeared, a muscular man with no distinct features, only an outline of his frame stood next to her, white lines running within his body as an outline of his Ethra lines.
“Projection technique is the art of channeling a cultivator's Ethra, gathering it outside of the body, shaping it, and then giving it a set of instructions,” she said.
The man moved, his Ethra lines suddenly burning red with fire Ethra as it accumulated in his palm, becoming a spear of flame, and then hurled in a direction before dissipating away.
“Projections could either be attack-based or defense-based, the more complex forms of this being used by the arcanists although their art involves the use of talismans and more advanced forms of rune language,” she said.
Tunde blinked, his mind struggling to catch up.
“For your stage, you are to only bother about gathering and projection of Ethra, nothing else,” she said firmly.
Tunde nodded appreciatively at that, getting the basics right was also just as important. The mage continued speaking.
“Your objective is to project or conjure your Ethra as we mages call it, to defend against the attacks of those holes that will strike at you randomly,” she said.
“Speed, reaction, and timing as well as your cycling method will all come under scrutiny, should you fail in blocking ten out of ten shots you will remain in this room till your provisions run out and you die,” she said bluntly.
Tunde admired her straightforwardness, except he had no provisions, perhaps a few skins of water stuck in his void ring that he left there for emergency purposes, but that was it. It wasn’t like he could plead his case with the conjured image of the mage that was obviously a recording.
“Good luck disciple, may the hegemons guide you” she completed, the image of the mage vanishing just as quickly as she appeared.
The gathered Ethra of the first ten holes at the top all fired at the same time, fire, water, air, and earth all shooting at him in tightly packed balls all at once. Tunde’s sight followed them in a split second, Ethra coating his arms as he strained to project it, pushing it a few meters from his body. It was similar to resonance, except this time, he didn’t let it accumulate all at once, attempting to let it flow out of him just as smoothly as it circulated his body. What he got in return was a flimsy excuse of a technique, the balls of elements slamming into him all at once as he managed to deflect the earth clump.
His breath knocked out of him, Tunde crashed to the ground, maintaining his breathing technique as he was all too aware of the collar around his neck. Dimly aware of the mage appearing again along with the extra conjured male at her side, she spoke.
“No doubt you’ve realized you cannot be everywhere at once, your reflexes failing you,” she said.
Tunde got to his feet, discarding Shadowfang to a corner as the mage continued.
“That is what brings us, to what we mages call the sphere of influence, this is the application of aura in projection techniques. It requires you to saturate the space around your immediate surrounding with your aura, allowing you to convert said aura to Ethra in the space of a second and project” she explained.
The man visibly released his aura, a sphere of spiraling blue Ethra that rotated lightly around him, attacks came from three sides in the image, the man reacting in a split second as the aura around those corners transformed to Ethra with the slight addition of his Ethra. It was like a spark of fire lit in a room doused with animal fat, the Ethra shaping the next second and shooting towards the attacks, blowing them out of the air.
“As usual, you will need to hone said projection method on the go, push your reaction to speed to counter the attacks of your opponent in about the same breath as they release it, again, good luck,” she said before disappearing.
Tunde sighed, stretching as he released his aura, the inky darkness swirling slowly around him as he cycled his Ethra. The flow of power began to congeal around him as the holes shot out another batch, tearing through the air in the blink of an eye. He gathered his Ethra in a blink, blowing out the flame Ethra, another half projection again and he took down the water attack. Earth and air smashed into the projected Ethra he could gather, Tunde grunting as he fell to his knees.
Cursing silently as he got to his feet, his aura undisturbed around him, it was a distinct division between his body and mind. His willpower dictated his flow of aura, his body that of Ethra, a distraction to his body did not affect his aura and vice versa, denying himself of the use of the use of resonance, he persisted at it, the holes in the wall reacting to the faintest trace of Ethra, shooting almost immediately.
He had been at it for more than an hour, frustration biting at him as he took a break, resting back on the wall as he stared at the point where he had stood earlier. He hated to even admit it, but Tunde didn’t think it was possible to defend from more than two attacks at a time, but the conjured cultivator had done it, taking out all three with such ease. Perhaps it was the immediate saturation of Ethra the cultivator had accomplished in the blink of an eye that it took the attacks to reach him helped. Drinking from his water skin, a thought came to him as he froze, cocking his head to the side.
“I wonder” he murmured.
Getting to his feet, he allowed his sight to take over, watching the remnants of the Ethra that flowed through the air, swirl as his eyes lit up. Walking to the spot again as the tunnels began to power up again, Ethra gathered and waited for him to respond in turn. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and allowed his aura to cycle around him again, preparing himself, he opened his eyes and then put his theory test. The moment his Ethra bled out of him, the holes spat their contents, shooting for him with all the force they had in them, his Ethra formed in three distinct places all at once as he strained to push his Ethra out more.
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One caught the fire attacks, tearing them out of the air with one hit that caught one completely and the other being deflected, a second attack took down the air attack and the third took down the earth attack. He managed to dodge the congealed water, grinning as his plan worked, once again thanking the hegemons silently for the gift of Ethra sight, he readied himself again. The answer had been right in his face all along and he hadn’t even noticed, the moment the attacks came, subtle ripples flowed through the remnant Ethras in the air, giving him an approximate location of where the attack would come from a split second before it did.
It had worked flawlessly, allowing him to predict and react just as he intended, his Ethra already forming when the attacks got close to him, all that was left for him now, was to find how to replicate just as many projections as possible that his Ethra could make. Sighing, he prepared himself, taking the stance again and allowing his Ethra to begin to pool within him, not in heavy clumps like resonance, but in a gentle flow as they seeped rapidly into the aura around him.
The attacks came just as quickly, tearing through the air as his projections formed, medium-sized balls of midnight starry Ethra, five in all that left him slightly light-headed as they clashed with all five attacks at once, explosion tearing through the air as he brought all five attacks down. The mage appeared again, this time alone.
“Congratulations, you have perfected the technique of sphere of influence, but in battle, no cultivator worth their rank would let you so much as bleed aura into your surroundings, an act that could be easily mistaken as a dominion technique.” She spoke.
“Now, you repeat the same process, without the crutch that is your aura” she finished, vanishing again.
Tunde sighed, cracking his neck as he prepared again.
********************************
Elyria stood in front of the gathered three elders and two lords, chaffing at the presence of the assembled powers of the clan that robbed against her body wrongly. It was like a primed explosion waiting for some little catalyst to set it off, something she was aware could happen should they begin to bicker at each other. She hoped for once, that the presence of the lords amongst them would deter such acts, but she wasn’t ready to bet lumens on it.
They awaited the arrival of the other adepts, the lesser ones who stood just below the three great adepts in rank, her return to the city no longer news. Having given her report to the lords themselves, she had been asked to report to the jade hall, a large building reserved for the adepts of the clan and above. It was where important decisions were made, built with white marble as well as silver columns that held the ceilings of the circular structure, burning hot braziers lighting the room up.
It was dusk, and as surprised as she was to meet Elder Joran here, she couldn’t help but wonder just how far Tunde had reached in strength, mid-tier, or the very peak of disciple rank. If he was to put any sort of show against Thalas whose very reputation she knew well enough now to be efficiently brutal, he would need to be at least mid-tier for that. Nevertheless, she crossed her arms behind herself, aware of Rhyn standing in the far corner of the room silently, his eyes no doubt on her.
She could feel the strength of her heart, peak disciple, she had gotten all she could from the rank, and if she really wanted to, push to adept rank the moment the surge started, it would be a welcome strength to the clan, no doubt one elder Celia would welcome under her banner, but Elyria had other plans. Rhyn wanted her on his side naturally, the ranker had good eyes when it came to choosing companions and in this case, followers, but Elyria wasn’t ready to play second place to some backwater empire clan Scion.
She did her best to also ignore the gaze of the lady Lirien that stayed on her all through the mumblings of the adepts as some arrived and the rest spoke in hushed tones among themselves. Where lord Alaric was silent and calculating, the lady gave a subtle feel, or rather, her presence was like a barely held flood of bloodshed. From the moment Elyria had lain eyes on her, she knew the female lord wasn’t one to play games, she’d gut you like a fish if she desired and few could stop her around here.
She had seen what was left of the former bases of the three great mountain sects, the Stoneheart, Cloudsoar, and Emberpeak sects. The three sects that stood on the large piece of land, acting as neutral territories between the Verdan clan and Acacia clan, kept as a buffer to ensure the two clans vital to the lifeblood of the empire didn’t engage in direct blows that would leave the empire with a shortage of resources.
It seemed, however, that the sects had decided to throw in their lots with the Acacia clan, something the Verdan clan would never stand and watch. Lady Lirien had gone on what was supposed to be a peacekeeping mission, a discussion, to remind the mountain sects of the might of the Verdan clan.
Now that she really thought about it, Elyria wondered whose fanciful idea it was to send the most bloodthirsty lord within the clan on a diplomatic meeting. The adepts couldn’t go, not because they weren’t strong, but because while the sects each boasted of one lord respectfully, their supposed ‘hidden power’, it would be an insult to them.
Lady Lirien wiped out all three lords.
Elyria hadn’t believed it herself, but she had seen the aftermaths of their former homes, broken to rubbles, tall mountains that had survived the test of time blown to large chunks of rocks. It had still been smoldering when she and Thorne had snuck their way past the borders of Verdan territory, a reminder that Verdan was not to be trifled with. Of course, the sects could always hope to seek vengeance through the empire, but with the beast surge coming and a possible investigation into their actions also possible, Elyria knew the sects wouldn’t want to be found wanting in the eyes of the empire.
Besides, the two lords of the Verdan clan were both captains within the imperial structure, holding more power than the entirety of the sects individually, they could make the sects disappear with false charges that would result in the total obliteration of their very existence. It was why the mission had puzzled her.
They were sent to infiltrate the new homes of the sects, see just how far the Acacia clan had reimbursed the sects and the level of defense the clan was willing to give the sects as they prepared to hold what Elyria knew now to be a lush nexus point that would no doubt be another spot the surge could break from. It was also the point of a tier 4 rift that had been steadily accumulating energy, promising to a very bountiful offer for whatever cultivator or group reaped its rewards first.
It was also their mission, one that the clan already knew about and had great plans for, that was until the heiress and Scion of the Acacia clan showed up. Elyria didn’t know much, but it had been assumed that the Verdan clan had some sort of agreement to split the rift between the sects and clan. Apparently, the Acacia clan had offered them something better, and they had abruptly dropped clan Verdan without so much as a notice, the clan losing three disciples that had been sent there to monitor the situation.
Elyria and Thorne had arrived to meet a stronghold constructed around the rift, portable blank crystals used to absorb the excess energies seeping out of the rift, allowing it to grow in strength without breaking and releasing tier 4 rift creatures into the area, an assured death for the sects if it happened. Lord Alaric's clapping once drew all attention to himself, the hall quieting down to absolute silence as he spoke.
“We are gathered here today, to finalize our preparations for the surge” he started.
“You can feel it in the air already, the sharp rise in Ethra levels, the countless rifts that our disciples and initiates have been reaping in their numbers. Already we can see a sharp rise in advancements from initiates to disciples, but Adamath would not give without collecting in return” he continued.
The adepts nodded solemnly, it was a generally known fact that times of great advancements also led to unparalleled bloodshed, cultivators tearing through each other seeking to take advantage of the period to advance further, those that came out at the other sides would become powerhouses in their own rights. Lord Alaric continued.
“And yet, an opportunity that was opened to us, one in which we had agreed with the mountain sects had been betrayed,” he said.
“a tier four rift, adept rank, one that had formed right at the border of the territory the sects shared with us had been given to the Acacia clan, something you all know well about by now,” he said, pausing to stare at their faces.
“Initially, my sister had gone to, ah, remind them of just what it meant to betray the Verdan clan” he continued.
That explained why they sent Lirien, it hadn’t been a diplomatic mission like Elyria thought it was, she nodded internally, Lirien had been the right choice.
“And now, after losing three of their lords, their powers significantly weakened, it seems our erstwhile neighbors have failed to learn their lessons” he finished.
Turning to Elyria, he spoke.
“a few days ago, the clan sent disciple Elyria to go and assess the threat level of clan Acacia, see just how far they had dug in with the help of the mountain sects, she brings her report back,” he said.
Elyria bowed to the elders and then at the assembled lords before she began speaking.
“As directed, we were able to make it not through the direct entrance to the border where the rift lay, but passed a longer and more obtuse route” she started.
“We?” a voice came from the assembled elders, elder Joran stapling his fingers together, a frown on his face.
“Her and another, I believe you all are aware of our rather precarious visitor?” Lirien spoke for the first time, her voice light.
“You may go on,” Alaric said.
Elyria nodded before continuing.
To put it shortly, clan Acacia came prepared, three adepts and one lord and a whole force of disciples and servant initiates” she started as murmurs broke out again.
“We also spotted the heiress of the clan herself, preparations in place to breach the rift in what would be nothing more than a week” she added.
“What is the state of the defense around the rift like?” Alaric asked.
“An entire stronghold built from ice and rock Ethra, Ethra canons, runic defensive scrolls as well as a host of other expensive types of equipment have been placed there, and that wasn’t the end of it.” She spoke.
“We counted ten war-class sky vessels” she stated as the mood in the room changed.
Sky vessels came in all shapes and types, war classes, and were built for total destruction as their names implied. That the Acacia clan was willing to field ten of those heavy destroyers was troubling, and while clan Verdan had theirs as well, they were reserved for true wars, not petty squabbles all for a tier 4 rift.
“We were able to sneak in and destroy one of these ships while heavily damaging a second before we were found out” she continued.
It had been no small feat, to destroy one of those large constructions that it had taken so many stolen explosives that a large crater was left where it had detonated.
“And their decision?” Lirien asked.
“a revenant attack due to the sight of adept Thorne, none linking back to clan Verdan” she reported.
“Good, clan Verdan thanks you for your services and will repay its weight in resources,” Alaric said.
Elyria bowed.
“The Lord is truly benevolent,” she said, leaving the middle of the room and retreating to Rhyn’s side.
The disciple nodded at her in silence, the both of them observing the proceedings.
“That swath of land was meant to be neutral territory between two great clans,” Lirien said getting up, her famous spear with its gleaming jade head in hand.
“And the mountain sects have decided to spit in our face, thinking we would not eradicate them for fear of the empire,” she said with a grin as Elyria shuddered, part in fear and the other in revulsion.
“That, was their mistake, one we will need to send to the Acacia clan as well” she continued.
“Sharpen your blades and dust your Ethra lines my adepts, the surge is upon us and the heavens sing with the cries of war,” she said, arms stretched wide.
“Too long have the mountain sects served as an unnecessary buffer, too long have we stayed back and watched the Acacia clan step on our pride, clan Verdan will take no more” she growled.
Her aura spread through the room as pure revulsion had her stomach turning in terror, so much blood, so much death. This wasn’t a lord who fought for its necessity, she did it for the love of it, elder Joran’s frown deepened, Elyria agreeing with him for once.
“Four days from now, we go to war” she completed as the adepts stood as one, their silence an approval that sent a shudder of concern down Elyria’s spine.