Tunde deflected the overhead kick, sliding below as he sought to displace Elyria’s other feet that kept her steady, his imbued body reacting at breakneck speed. The metal ranker wasn’t there again, her speed even faster than his despite the rigorous training he had placed himself through, reacting with pure instincts as he twisted, hands coming together in a block as he weathered her other leg slamming into him, fist cocked backward. Breaking his guard, he bent backward a bit, allowing his Ethra to flow through him, catching her punch even as it shifted him backward, his eyes wide in surprise.
It should take a lot to move him, his body’s density even doubled his weight whenever he imbued himself, and yet, Elyria so easily seemed to push him around the training chambers like he was still a peak initiate. Getting his bearing, he took a deep breath, body soaked with sweat as he took his yet to be defined stance of the flowing fists. Nodding at him, she tore forwards again, the both of them exchanging bare blows as they sought to lay attacks on each other that would disable the other, Tunde’s Ethra sight struggling to keep up even as he matched her blow for blow, no longer fazed by the weight her hit carried.
It was an intricate game of speed and strength, Elyria with her speed and Tunde with his strength, his hit dropped more damage as compared to the number of hits she had been able to drop past Ethra sight. They separated once more, Tunde breathing lightly compared to hers, the yellow-haired ranker taking a deep breath before releasing it.
“Your capacity to withstand punishing blows is commendable,” she said.
“It’s the only way I know how to fight” Tunde replied as he hopped on his feet.
“Again,” he said taking a stance.
Elyria stared at him for a few seconds.
“You need rest, you don’t know just what we’d be facing when we arrive at the rift,” she said.
“I’ll be fine” he responded.
She shook her head.
“you’re afraid of meeting him again, Thalas I mean, aren’t you?” she said.
Tunde paused, standing straight before shaking his head.
“no” he responded.
“No?” she asked, one eyebrow raised.
“There would be tension, but I’m not afraid of seeing him again” he responded.
She nodded, saying nothing as she grabbed a piece of metal rod, one of the few she carried about in her void ring, warping it into a metallic arm that she attached to her armless stump, clenching and unclenching it to check its viability.
“How do you do that?” Tunde asked softly.
Elyria shrugged.
“I could lie and tell you it’s some family secret, but the truth is it’s more instinctual” she replied.
Tunde said nothing, watching as silver line Ethra ran through its frame.
“Despite my affinity, I’m a child of the forest, like all children of Silvershade, I grew up under the ancient sky branches of the numerous trees that call the continent home, shaping is in our blood, our very existence” she continued.
Globs of liquid metal floated upwards, shaping themselves into blades.
“Tell me about your home, Crystalreach,” she asked.
Tunde sighed, he had asked her about hers, it was only fair, but what was to say?.
“It’s always cold” he started.
“The skies are mostly cloudy, the days we see sunlight are the days we spend above the ground, foraging for items, making long trips to the walled cities” he continued, the memories flooding back.
“We weren’t allowed far from the settlements, the ones from above, whoever they were, told us that as long as we stayed within the settlements, no harm would befall us,” he said.
Elyria said nothing, watching him as he took his time.
“I apologize, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” she said softly.
“No, it was bound to come up sooner or later” he replied with a short smile.
“These ones from above, describe them to me,” Elyria said.
“You and Thorne called them weavers,” Tunde said.
Elyria shook her head.
“Two cult sects occupy Crystalreach, the seekers and the weavers, not much is known about either of both cults seeing as Crystalreach is the most secretive continent on the face of Adamath” she replied.
“We hardly ever saw their faces, perhaps some sort of projection technique, but I distinctly remember sneaking out one season to gaze upon them and all I could remember was waking up shivering in the laps of my mother, I was young then, nothing but a child,” he said, the image of his mother coming to the forefront of his mind.
Shaking his head, he got back to his feet, watching as the floating blades pointed in his direction.
“That’s all I remember of them, my time on Crystalreach was nothing but looking for where my next meal would come from,” he said.
“Those were the cult of the illusion weavers” she stated.
“Like I said, not much is known about them, same as the seekers, nothing is known about them actually,” she said.
“Then I simply need to get strong enough to know about them” Tunde responded.
“Precisely,” she said as she gestured with her hand and the blades shot forward, Tunde meeting them in stride as well as Elyria herself.
****************************
The black swan caught up with the forces of the clan Verdan over the forests itself, the large war vessel of house dark fist seamlessly melding with the larger vessel of the clan itself as Tunde and Elyria stood on the deck of the swan, watching as elder Joran welcomed the lord of the clan himself. Alaric was dressed in the dark green robes of the clan, his blade strapped to his hip as he calmly floated across the distance between the two ships Tunde watching in awe as the lord landed softly on the vessel.
They went to their knees, head bowed in the face of the lord whose very presence exuded raw power. Tunde for one brief moment wondered just how well he would fare against the lord himself and let that thought simmer as he heard his name.
“Tunde dark fist”
Turning his gaze up, he stared into the deep green eyes of the lord, shivering slightly as he felt the weight of the lord’s stare settle on him. Saying nothing but maintaining his gaze, Alaric spoke again.
“Rise, step forward,” he said.
Tunde felt his body willingly answer even without his decision, an involuntary move in the face of a bigger predator, and felt himself struggling to wrest control back, hesitating a fraction even as a smile blossomed on the lord’s face for a fraction of a second. Still, he stood in front of the lord, head reaching his chest as the lord spoke.
“I bring word of congratulations from the patriarch himself” he started as Tunde raised his head sharply to stare into his eyes in shock.
“You have proven your worth as a disciple and ranker of clan Verdan, and we keep our promises, as such, you and elder Joran will be the first to breach the tier 4 rift, and all resources gained within it will remain in your hands, we expect great things from you” he finished.
Tunde bowed.
“I will not disappoint you” he replied firmly.
“See that you do not” the lord simply replied as Tunde retreated to stand next to Elyria who stared at the lord.
Tunde’s eyes flicked to the clan’s ship as he saw Rhyn, Sorin, an unknown disciple whom he had no idea of but had a wide smile on his face, and then Thalas. He froze at the sight of the disciple he had beaten, and watched the cold stoic gaze of the jade gauntlet. Tunde said nothing, the tension in the air as Alaric spoke.
“Thalas” he simply said.
Tunde watched the disciple walk to the edge of the ship he was in, the lord turning to Tunde and gesturing as Tunde stepped forward, moving to the edge of the black swan. The winds blew at their robes, two peak disciples staring at each other, then Thalas bowed at the waist, a move that shocked Tunde even as he remained rooted.
“Congratulations on your victory at the duel, it would be an honor to see you advance to the rank of adept,” Thalas said.
Tunde swallowed calmly, shutting his eyes for a brief second before opening them back, his emotions locked beneath his likewise cold gaze.
“I am grateful for the duel as well” he replied.
Thalas gave a curt nod, standing straight before turning just as Tunde was about to talk again and making his way back to the line where Rhyn, Sorin, and the ranker Tunde guessed to be Shiro stood. Rhyn had a guarded look on his face, one hand on his blade as Sorin folded her hands calmly, the breeze blowing her cropped hair.
“you six are the future of the clan, the highest-ranking disciples,” Alaric said.
So Thalas had been shifted down to sixth, making sure not to lock gazes with him, he turned his attention on the lord who continued speaking even as elder Joran quietly made his way to his side.
“We go up against a clan that is ready to defend the rift and convergence zone to ensure total superiority against clan Verdan, they will come at you to kill, you would be wise to do likewise” he continued.
“You all are hereby stripped of any restraints in battle against the enemy, their deaths will fund your paths to advancement, may you flourish and blossom in the throes of battle” he finished.
Figures stepped out of the main ship of clan Verdan, Tunde realizing the adepts of the clan gathered in one place, his eyes only on the man with the jade green gauntlets who stared at him like he wanted to crush his skull to a pulp.
Jashed Verdan stared at him with rage burning within them, Tunde feeling the animosity all the way from where he stood.
“The convergence zone is the entirety of the canyon where the rift is located, we will be going in under heavy resistance” the lord continued.
“I will deal with the lord of clan Acacia, the mountain sects’ last remaining lord is still recuperating from the battle with Lirien and will be of little use to them, the adepts of the clan will hold him along with the other adepts at bay.” He finished before pointing at them.
“You all along with the disciples who are currently aboard the third war vessel coming along will be left to face the disciples of the sects and clan Acacia. There will be no help forthcoming from us, adept Joran and disciple Tunde will make all haste for the rift as per the agreement of the duel” he said.
“Let it be known that any act to sabotage the efforts of any of the clan’s forces will only result in swift retaliation by me,” Alaric said as he floated back to his ship, eyes on Jashed whose jaw seemed to stiffen.
“That rift, along with the other potential rewards the convergence point could provide us is enough to see you all break through to adept and lord ranks, a vital need for the surge already upon us” he continued.
“Hold that in mind before you attempt any games” he finished before vanishing into the bowels of the ship.
Tunde stepped backward; hands folded behind him as he continually cycled his Ethra. Rhyn, Sorin, and Shiro stepped forward, the trio vaulting the gap between the ships and landing on the black swan. Shiro was a lithe-looking ranker, all lean with sculpted muscles, dark shaggy hair with a pearly white smile, and a black ornate-looking staff strapped behind his back. His bright mood was the exact opposite of the dour-looking Rhyn who moved towards Tunde.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“How nice it is to see the future strengths of the clan all gathered in one spot!” elder Joran exclaimed.
Rhyn froze, as if realizing the elder was there for the first time, turning to Joran he bowed stiffly.
“Venerable elder,” he said.
“Elder Joran!” Shiro exclaimed as Joran beamed.
“The true inheritor of the jade staff technique himself” Joran replied as Shiro chuckled, bowing before the elder.
He turned to Tunde a beaming smile on his face as Tunde watched him blow his way towards him.
“Wind affinity,” he thought to himself.
“Tunde, meet the creator of the Gale staff style, the second student of elder Celia and once member of house argent rose, Shiro Gale staff,” Joran said.
Tunde stared into the eyes of the disciple who stared at him with an unnerving look, he turned his head at Rhyn.
“And you’re sure he beat Thalas?” he asked the cultivator.
“Indeed,” Rhyn said softly.
Tunde narrowed his eyes.
“You doubt my victory?” he asked.
Shiro turned back to him, silent for a few seconds before speaking again.
“You rub off me wrongly, your presence, you’re strong,” he said with a wide grin.
“Fancy a spar?, high ranker to high ranker,” Shiro asked.
“You haven’t faced the metal hands in battle,” Sorin said, speaking up for the first time.
Elyria had remained silent, watching them silently.
“Her I know of, him though,” Shiro said with a pondering tone.
“Unless you have no use for your staff, I suggest you keep it to yourself,” Elyria said as all attention turned to her.
“He has a habit of shattering weapons you see” she continued as Tunde winced.
“Now that was hilarious” Shiro exclaimed.
Tunde turned his gaze to Thalas who had simply sat down on the prow of the ship, eyes closed in meditation, a large jade Ethra crystal in his palms.
“Poor Thalas, losing to someone previously not even on the rankings,” Shiro said.
Tunde noticed for the first time that the adepts had vanished, even elder Joran as well much to his surprise, leaving the six high rankers to themselves. He couldn’t help but suspect it was some sort of ploy to put them together in the same place, and by the lord no less. Thalas turned his head to the staff use who waved lightly at him, Tunde sighing before excusing himself and walking to the edge of the swan staring at Thalas at the other side.
“Greetings Thalas,” he said awkwardly.
No response was given, the jade gauntlet having shut his eyes again seemingly deep in his meditation.
“I, uh, hmm,” Tunde said as he suddenly found his head blank.
A snort from behind him had him glancing at Shiro who suddenly found the wooden floors interesting. Tunde turned back to Thalas to find the ranker standing right at the edge of his ship, gazing at him, unprepared for the biting stare of the former second ranker.
Thalas raised one eyebrow, Tunde nodding.
“I would hate for you to have disturbed my meditation for nothing, dark fist,” Thalas said softly.
Tunde pursed his lips.
“We don’t have to be enemies,” he said.
Thalas shook his head, arms folded behind him as a bitter smile lined his lips.
“I believe there’s a misunderstanding here,” Thalas said.
Tunde frowned.
“There is?” he asked.
“Indeed, see, you assume that we’re rivals, and I apologize” Thalas replied.
“I was merciful, I was weak, I underestimated you, and I paid dearly for it” he continued.
“That battle didn’t feel like you were underestimating me, Thalas” Tunde replied.
Thalas smiled, inclining his head.
“Our paths have crossed once, if the hegemons will it, it will cross again, but until then, higher ranker Tunde, I wish your path rough and your advancement swift” Thalas said before turning and walking back to the prow in silence.
“That was a dull end to a confrontation,” Shiro said.
“Do you ever shut up?” Sorin asked.
Shiro gasped in mock surprise.
“Not when I’m among friends,” he said with a shrug.
Rhyn ignored them, walking towards Tunde as he paused right in front of him.
“you’re becoming more of a problem than I anticipated,” he said.
“To whom?” Tunde replied.
“Everyone, I’d advise you don’t relent in your cultivation, you wanted power?, now you have it, keeping it is another matter entirely” he said before stepping backwards.
Elyria said nothing from where she stood, Tunde glancing at her before turning to Rhyn.
“You all keep thinking I’m in some competition with you,” he said loudly as Sorin and Shiro turned to him, Rhyn as well.
“Well, I’m not, I could care less about your rankings and clan feuds, you think I want all these?” he said, waving his hand around.
“Whatever grudges you have against each other, keep them to yourselves, my only goal is to advance as well and as fast as I can, you all can take your rankings for all I care” he finished.
“And yet” Rhyn started.
“These same rankings provided the opportunity to a tier 4 rift right in front of you, these same rankings have afforded you the chance to obtain a soulbound weapon from an artificer even the clan wasn’t aware of” he continued.
“It would be foolish and hypocritical of you to speak ill of a system that raised you from a lowly wastelander to the position of a disciple, it would be extremely foolish of you to talk down on it, and clan Verdan,” he said.
Tunde felt his ire rising as he clamped down on it.
“Rhyn, you heard the lord” Sorin warned.
The two stood inches from each other, Tunde realizing silently that he was a head taller than Rhyn, Ethra sight blazing.
“Now now, let’s save the fighting for Acacia and the mountain sects, plenty of cultivators to throw around,” Shiro said, forcefully placing himself between them.
Elyria walked towards Rhyn, speaking as she did.
“Let me make something clear” she started as Rhyn turned to her.
“The fact that we wear the colors and crest of house Verdan doesn’t make us your lapdogs,” she said to him as he raised an eyebrow.
“And you,” she said to Tunde.
“at least make it to adept before you start creating enemies for yourself, it’s bad enough Thalas over there is one bad moment away from trying to kill you,” she said.
Tunde nodded, stepping backward, pausing, and turning to Rhyn.
“I apologize for my uncouth words, but let me make something clear,” he said as he allowed a tiny piece of his aura to leak around him, Rhyn’s hand going for his blade.
“I didn’t grow up with the support of a clan, and all I’ve known from the moment I became a cultivator is the ruthlessness of battle,” he said.
“You might be stronger than me right now, but are you willing to place your life down in a battle to the death with me?” he asked silently.
Rage burned in Rhyn’s eyes as he stared at Tunde, Sorin at his side, Elyria in the middle, and Shiro glancing between them with excitement in his eyes.
“Rivalry at its best!” he said with a tremble of excitement.
“Good, this is what I’m talking about” he completed.
Elyria sighed, glancing at him as she rolled her eyes.
“When you’re all done here, perhaps you could take notice of the fact that we’re nearing the borders of clan Verdan and entering the mountain sect territories,” Elyria said, pointing in the distance.
All eyes turned to the mountains in the distance with holes within them, Tunde watching as a shimmering translucent barrier seemed to faze in and out of sight.
“Quite perceptive of you” elder Joran’s voice said as Tunde whirled to see the elder standing innocently behind them all.
Totally oblivious to their senses, the adepts aboard the other vessels appeared one by one, some Tunde was familiar with and others not so much. Lord Alaric stood in front, watching the barrier as he grabbed his sword and unsheathed it, Tunde’s senses screamed at him at that moment to be anywhere else but close to the lord, even the adepts seemed to shuffle uncomfortably.
“The affinity of blade” Joran whispered with respect.
“Adepts, ready yourselves,” Alaric said.
Elder Joran stretched.
“Well, this is where I tell you to prepare for the worst, it’s going to be chaos out there,” he said.
Rhyn abruptly sat on the ground, eyes locked on the movements of the lord as Alaric’s dark green blade began to glow, all around him the affinity of blade began to manifest in thin strips of green blade-shaped Ethra, clearly infused with jade Ethra as well as they began to solidify.
“The best way for him to grow intimately with the affinity of blades he will soon be bestowed with is to attune yourself to it slowly,” Joran said.
Alaric stepped forward, taking a stance and swinging the blade.
The very air screamed with raw power as the projected blades shot for the barrier, slamming into the barrier with a clap of thunder, the force of the hit blowing against the swan as Tunde grunted, the disciples shielding their eyes from the ensuing light. When it cleared, the barrier shattered as elder Joran tsked.
“Tier two or three defensive constructs,” he said disapprovingly.
The lord was in the air, aura burning around him as he shot for the hole in the barrier that crashed all around them like broken glass, shimmering and smoking but glowing shapes falling to the ground below them as Tunde watched the swan lurch forward. He was about to move when another presence revealed itself and clashed with Alaric, the two a blur as Tunde’s body visibly shook from the clash.
“Lord Akero of clan Acacia,” Joran said, all mirth wiped from his face.
Large ships shimmered into existence in front of them as Tunde watched the elder walk towards the prow of the ship.
“This would be harder than I thought,” he said calmly.
Six presences flared to life as Tunde’s Ethra sight was bathed in a myriad of powerful Ethra colors that stung his eyes, blinking rapidly and unstrapping Shadowfang from behind him.
“Six adepts, two from each of the mountain sects,” he said.
Large boulders, balls of fire, and slowly building whirlwinds began to take shape above them as the adepts slowly began to ramp up to full strength. Tunde’s teeth began to chatter as subtle vibrations began to pulse from the body of the elder towards his surroundings. Joran turned to him, smiling as he rolled up the folds of his robes.
“Fight well disciple, we still have to make it to the rift itself,” he said as he shot off from the swan, somehow propelling himself towards the ships that were close to them already and firing from their Ethra cannons.
Elyria was at his side, the swan returning fire even as disciples dressed in brown, light blue, and cream robes began to activate miniature flying constructs, making their way toward the swan and the vessel of the clan itself.
Her metal arm took shape as she fashioned a blade from another rod, liquid metal forming fists behind her. Tunde cycled his Ethra, drawing from the air as well as he cycled that also even as the first disciples began to land on the vessel. Rhyn was a flash, Ethra sight barely tracking him even as his sword flashed and a few disciples lost limbs, screaming in the air and plunging to their deaths.
More landed on their vessel, all projecting attacks immediately as Tunde moved. Seeing no need for Shadowfang even as he strapped it back, he dodged rock clumps filled with yellow Ethra, the projection attacks exploding as he got close and personal. The first disciple he faced imbued himself with rock Ethra in an armor of stone, Tunde’s fist crashing against it with raw imbuement alone, shattering it, the disciple stumbling backward.
Slightly gathering resonance, a blow to the chest of the ranker saw the armor explode and his chest caving in before crashing to the ground. In the same breath, he dodged the swing of a hammer imbued with flame Ethra, Shadowfang back in his hand as it clashed with the weapon. The two exchanged blows, Tunde faster as his axe bit into the side of the disciple who fell to his knees in pain, Tunde dropping a punch on his head and knocking him out, removing his void ring from his hand.
[you have stolen 1 common grade void ring!] Ark wrote.
Tunde grunted; he had forgotten the system existed. Turning and watching as Elyria made short work of her disciples as well, some moaning on the ground in pain, the rest dead. The entire deck of the black swan had been scoured clean of the opposition, Tunde actually pitying them for once, they had never stood a chance.
Captain Hajan was suddenly on deck, close to Tunde as he spoke.
“we’ve been ordered to drive the ship close to the mouth of the rift as quickly as possible,” he said grimly.
Tunde nodded, turning to Elyria who nodded as well.
“If that is the wish of the lord, then so it is,” Shiro said from where he wiped blood off the body of his staff, a dead disciple in his front, no trace of the joking disciple.
The ship lurched as its nose bent down shooting for the canyon in the distance as its thrusters fired to life, pushing towards their goal. Tunde gripped the wooden hand rail of the ship, preparing himself for the coming onslaught.
**********************
Zehra opened her eyes, aware of the presence of the three adepts in front of her, getting to her feet as her peak disciple servants did as well.
“We must prepare you, lady Zehra,” the female adept said, light brown hair tightly styled close to her head, dressed in the dark blue robes of clan Acacia.
“Clan Verdan has arrived and is almost through the first defense,” a male adept said, his brown features stoic.
“And lord Akero?” she asked.
“The venerable lord has gone to engage their forces in battle, slow their lord down, it seems Alaric Verdan came alone without his sister” the third said.
She nodded.
“That was to be expected, we must proceed, an entire rift awaits to be harvested” she replied.
“The heavens are indeed impartial; the rift is just attaining full strength,” the female adept said.
“Indeed, lady Vaya” Zehra responded.
*******************************
Deep within the underground home of the Stoneheart sect, adept Uram hurriedly made his way to his quarters, his left limb hidden within the folds of his cloth. Ignoring his Ark message that constantly blinked as he snarled, he couldn’t afford to waste time, he was this close to ascending to the next stage, but only if he could complete this particular task bestowed upon him. With the sect gathering its strength to repel clan Verdan just enough for them to see the bulk of their forces go through the rift, it had given him the space to get his plan underway.
The road to power within cultivation was an arduous one, stagnation a constant reminder that the blessings of the hegemons were restricted to a few. He had seen it, even with the tier 4 rift that could see him become a lord, albeit a weak one at that after clan Acacia had plundered it of its riches. Bitterness filled him, no longer would he struggle and strain under the yoke of his path simply because the sect no longer had the resources to advance a powerful lord.
They had poured everything they had on their lords and even then, the merciless spear of Verdan had cut short their power, but it didn’t need to be that way again. Getting to the sacred chambers where the glowing yellow gem sat in the middle of the room, releasing pulses of rock Ethra into the air, Uram smiled as he produced the putrid green beating heart. The two peak disciples whose duty was to watch their most prized possession till it was time to retreat stood up straight.
“Adept Uram,” the first said.
“What- “the other started before sharp rock spikes punched cleanly through their skulls, the both unable to even react before their bodies tumbled to the ground.
Uram nodded appreciatively, they would do as fine resources for his plan, the heart opened up, wafting green-tainted Ethra as it enveloped the crystal, pulsing once before a great beam of green Ethra shot for the top of the room, veins of green Ethra snaking around as the heart suddenly cracked, a thin line running from it into reality itself, growing larger and finally solidifying before opening up.
Uram fell to his knees, he had completed his task, a rift, a man-made rift right in the middle of the Stoneheart sect as a figure stepped through, pale white hair with an interlocking bone belt on his waist stepped out of the rift, staring down at the form of Uram who shivered.
“You have done well, adept Uram, and wise enough to pick the revenants, and we never fail those loyal to our cause,” he said as he produced a gem from the fold of his robes.
Uram gratefully accepted with outstretched arms, shouts came from beyond the room as disciples burst in, eyes wide. The revenant waved his hand, bone spikes appearing out of nowhere skewering them even as more revenants pored out of the rift, circling them. Uram swallowed the crystal with greedy eyes, shuddering immediately as green lines of undeath Ethra ran through him.
He found himself unable to talk, dark writings blossoming to life all over his body.
“You desire the power to advance,” adept Kenji of the revenants said.
“But we have a better way for you to serve the cult” he completed as Uram exploded in a shower of gore, living nothing but a hulking skeleton sheathed in undeath Ethra.
It gave a shrill scream to the skies as Kenji smiled.
“Lead us to the rift” he commanded.
[you do not have access to A.R.K] a message said right in front of his eyes.
Kenji waved it away, already used to it, somehow they had banned the unorthodox cults from accessing the Ark system, he couldn't care less, that issue was way above him, he simply had to deal with what was in front of him.
The huge skeleton shaped its bony arm into a blade lopping forward with a shrill scream as Kenji and the revenants followed calmly behind it.