The alpha stood among the smoldering remains of the Sandshards worms, the dust cloak vultures, the cinder hide tortoise, and the rest of the creatures that had attacked it. Its body warped and stretched as it kept absorbing power from them, their life essence to be exact, adding to its already considerable power, growing stronger and better, its mind ever expanding. It now knew how to think deep thoughts, to calculate mid-battle albeit primitively and the understand just how much fear and power it had to display in order to win the loyalty and fear of the other creatures of the wastelands to its side.
The rest of the creatures had hurriedly fallen in line, the alpha impressing its ‘will’ upon them, subjugation its main goal. And so with his little force behind him made up of the shards, cultures, tortoise, and even the sand shifter beetles, it had begun a war of dominance overnight. Moving as swiftly as possible, it carved a path of destruction and control around the wastelands, coming to a stop when he felt powerful presences that did battle in the distance. Black burning clouds flashing with bolts of white lightning tore through the skies, a veritable warning to the creature that while it was strong, it was no match for whatever was wielding such power of that magnitude for now.
It had veered off, tracing its steps back the way it came, pushing in the other direction. It had conquered an entire hive of Sandshards that now ferried the strongest of his forces, the cinder hide tortoise, creatures of sand and flames that were slow but durable and deadly. Dust cloak vultures filled the air, running reconnaissance and reporting back to the alpha, its mind connecting to the creatures under its banner somehow even though it had no idea how. It soon stood lord over them, watching as the assembled hordes bickered and snarled between themselves.
Predators who kept a wide berth from each other now held under the power of a single being, a creature who exuded such malicious and bloodthirsty aura unlike any other within the creatures of the wastelands. The alpha turned its gaze skywards, shrieking at the storm that had begun to blow again, its mind remembering that a storm such as this had caused its change. In its near incoherent tongue, it shrieked again as all its underlings turned their faces to it in fear, feeling its power.
It held the jagged stalagmite in hand, pointing it into the distance where bigger and better prey would no doubt reside. The alpha had begun to develop a craving for dominance, to kill, slaughter, and rule over, and it had the power to do so. Its assembled forces shrieked and roared in unison, driven by the long metaphorical leash the alpha had placed on them, realizing the freedom to kill and hunt it had psychically granted them.
Its aura controlled them, willing and egging them on to battle, watching as they began to march, from the dust cloak vultures that ruled the air, going ahead of them, to the sand swimmer serpents, Sandshard worms, and sand shifter beetles that swam through the sands as if through water, three bitter foes now slaved to its will. The cinder hide tortoises marched along with them slowly while the hundreds upon hundreds of sandstalkers that had come at the call of the alpha marched along as well in tiny clutch bands that roamed the wastelands.
Seated atop a tortoise, its body immune to the blistering heat of the shell, the alpha shivered with anticipation, soon enough it would control a large portion of the wastelands, its will extending and enslaving more beings even as its mind kept expanding.
**********************
Tunde met up with the members of the tyrant’s haven that had come along with the ship, watching them get off in tattered robes as well as women and children, all cautiously looking around fearfully, even as they marveled at the sights before them.
“What was Rowan thinking?” Joran muttered with a frown.
“It’s one thing to chase out the drunkards and bandits and whatnot, but women and children?” he continued.
“Anyone or anything with the slightest remote connection to either you or Tunde was to either leave Jade Peak or face a brutal response,” Miria said.
Tunde frowned, glancing at the elder who ignored him point blank, keeping mute as if waiting for his lead. Sighing to himself, he moved towards them, watching as Harun and a bunch of disciples wearing the black and white colors of house dark fist herded them together, separating them from the women and children. His presence had them bowing at the waist at him, the newly arrived people seizing him up carefully, recognition on some of their faces.
When they saw Miria, they composed themselves, the peak disciple stepping forward and beside Tunde without so much as a smile on her face.
“Adept Tunde” she started as more than a few looks suddenly humbled in surprise.
She had set them straight with that pronouncement, no one wanted to get on the bad side of an adept.
“Meet the few remaining members of tyrant’s haven, no more than a hundred souls,” she said.
Tunde watched the arranged lines carefully, eyes cold and unflinching, tempted to unleash his aura but glancing at the little kids who held the helms of their mother's clothes carefully, shivering slightly, he found himself softening.
“This is black rock, home of the house dark fist” he started, aura increasing his voice.
“Most of you know me, and to those who don’t, I am adept Tunde dark fist, also known as the dark wolf” he added.
He didn’t like the moniker, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t play to it.
“This isn’t tyrant’s edge, here you have no power, no control and no right, at least for now” he continued.
Miria didn’t so much as blink in surprise, it meant she trusted him, which was ironic since he had no idea what he was saying, just speaking as the words came to his head.
“Here we will all work together to ensure the survival of this stronghold so close to the wastelands. Should you in any way, form, or kind harm a member of black rock stronghold, then I will end you myself” he said.
“Lady Miria had assured me of your willingness to work with me, and so I ask this oath of you, sworn on your souls,” he said, pausing.
Looking at all their faces, watching the doubts, realizations, and acceptances that filtered through them before continuing.
“You will swear to be loyal to black rock city, to protect and work towards its good, and to never betray the trust that I or Miria have placed on you today,” he said.
There were a few seconds of humbled silence before a man stepped out. Bald with a strong body and the aura of a disciple, going down on his knees before speaking.
“I will follow the lady anywhere, and if she has placed her trust in you, then I will do the same as well,” he said.
He swore, following every single word Moyo had said without so much as twitching, Tunde feeling the oath wrap around the man firmly before he stood up. As if coming out of a stupor, one by one they began to take the oath, over and over as Tunde felt a hand tap his shoulder, turning to see the elder gesture at him with a frown on his face. feeling the urgency, he saw Isolde who had appeared out of nowhere step towards his position with a nod.
“I’ll take over” she whispered.
Harun nodded at her, turning to the oath takers who continued to take their oaths, those who had taken being led to one corner. When they had given a few distances, Joran began leaping atop the walls close to them, making his way to the top of the walls, the sun was just starting to burn brightly in the air and yet, there was a calmness to the storms unlike anyone Tunde had ever felt before.
“something’s coming,” Joran said grimly.
“What is?’ Tunde asked.
Joran shook his head.
“I cannot say, but the tiny vibrations I feel coming from the ground speak of an army,” Joran said, touching the surface of the walls gently.
“The surge?” Tunde asked.
Was clan Verdan marching against them?, now would be the time for the elder to advance to lord stage. Joran shook his head calmly.
“Maybe, but unless we’re facing an incursion, it shouldn’t be this much” Joran replied.
Tunde took a deep breath before asking, his heart pounding wildly.
“Clan Verdan?’ he said softly, almost as a whisper.
“Unless the clan somehow went around us and is coming from the wastelands then I’d say no” Joran responded.
“The wastelands, bandits,” Tunde said.
Joran nodded.
“Plausible, either that or the surge’s abrupt weather is pushing the creatures of the wastelands towards us” he added.
“We need to prepare,” Tunde said.
Joran stood up straight, dusting his hands before speaking.
“Yes, you’ll need to get them prepared, it would be a shame for all the resources we dumped into black rock to go down in flames,” he said.
“Why are you doing it?’ Tunde asked all of a sudden.
“What?” Joran asked, turning to him, scratching at his blindfold.
Tunde wondered when he had gotten so used to the notion that while the elder wore a blindfold, he could still see almost perfectly, if not better by the way he described it.
“Pushing me to make decisions, why?” Tunde asked.
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“Ah,” Joran said with realization, a soft smile on his face.
“I wonder too myself, perhaps it’s because I do so find your manner of response to situations almost refreshing to see,” he said.
Tunde kept quiet, saying nothing as he watched the elder.
“Or I see something in you that would make a great leader, a blank slate” he continued.
“a blank slate?” Tunde asked confused.
Joran nodded.
“Yes, you do not have the same greed for power and games as the cultivators of Bloodfire, you genuinely have a goal that doesn’t include ruling and you just want to get stronger” Joran pointed out.
“As far as cultivators and rankers go in this part of the world, that’s the cleanest slate I’d ever say I’ve seen” he finished.
“I’m not comfortable with it” Joran confessed.
“no one ever is, to have the lives of thousands in your hands, it’s not something most people wish for,” Joran said with a nod.
“you’d be a better head than me” Tunde protested.
Joran snorted, laughing with mirth as if he found it hilarious, grabbing his head as he chuckled calmly, getting down from the high of laughter.
“Oh boy, my student,” he said, patting Tunde’s shoulder.
“Even you know deep down that it would be a bad idea,” he said.
Tunde knew what he was talking about, felt it in his gut, and yet, he wanted the elder to admit it by himself.
“Why?” he asked softly.
“Why?” Joran echoed.
“Because if the patriarch actually believed I’m in control, he would throw the full might of clan Verdan to crush us in one fell swoop” Joran growled calmly.
“If I was in charge, I’d bend every resource I have at my disposal into bringing down the Verdan clan brick by bloody brick till Jade Peak is nothing but a smoldering ruin” he continued.
Tunde was caught off guard by the ferociousness of those words, eyes wide as he let the elder calm down.
“Why?” he asked softly again.
Joran sighed as if weary of the questions.
“Because countless innocent cultivators’ blood has watered the garden of the clan known as Verdan itself, too many bodies have paved their way to advancement” Joran added, fists clenched.
He seemed to still himself, shaking his head as if to dispel the thoughts before glancing at him.
“Ignore me,” he said softly.
“Ramblings of an old man” he added.
“I could never ignore your teachings and words,” Tunde said softly as Joran smiled.
This time, it felt real.
“Look,” Joran said, turning to Tunde as he got his full attention.
“I have no idea why I was suddenly drawn to you, perhaps it was fate, nudging me in the right direction” he started.
“But it truly brought me a blessing from the heavens, one I have used to break the indomitable will of the clan itself” he continued.
Patting Tunde’s shoulder, he spoke.
“Strength is might on Adamath, the goal of advancement prevalent in our every thinking, and yet, even at adept stage, you have developed a lethal but tempered mindset, something I didn’t have when I was younger,” Joran said.
“I push you to these roles because I believe you’re the perfect fit for them, you have a new way of thinking, one untainted by the vendettas of old or ambitions of power,” Joran said.
Tunde wanted to point out how sorely wrong Joran was, he held the grudge of his people’s death in his heart, of what was done to his people and the abyssal seekers, to grow stronger in order to take control of his destiny whatever it might be. He felt the tattoo of a wolf on his chest shift as if reacting to his emotions before settling back again.
Removing his mind from the abnormal behavior, he focused on the elder who continued.
“Sooner or later, you won’t have me for guidance any longer, and those beneath you will look to you for strength and power. Tell me then, what would you do?” Joran asked.
Tunde found no immediate answer to give him, trying to form words in his mouth when a flash of light burned to life in the distance the air heavy with Ethra made the clouds above them grow darker and darker before a black rift tear appeared just a few meters from the gates of black rock.
“That can’t be good,” Joran said.
Tunde cycled Ethra, finding it absurdly easy to do so as the laden air released its power, the disciples shouting as a loud horn began to blow into the air. Tunde ran to the edge of the wall, glancing down and into the city itself where he saw hundreds begin to run towards their homes, Harun and a few disciples and initiates making their way to the walls, Giselle as well.
Miria dissolved into inky darkness before gathering next to him, Tunde raising one eyebrow.
“If you think that impressive, imagine what I could do as an adept,” she said.
“Are you trying to get me to make you one?” he asked.
“What do I have to do to earn it?” she asked.
“First of all, defend this stronghold from whatever lies within that rift” Joran responded.
The trio made it to the edge of the wall, looking at the rift.
“One thing I hate about the cycle of retaliation” Joran started as the rift flared and grew wider, a lone figure jumping out even as Tunde’s Ark screen pinged with a notification.
[notice!, you have begun the second cycle of the beast surge, the cycle of retaliation!. All rifts would begin to prematurely open without a period of dormancy!]
[all rift creatures would be stronger, tiers become negligible at least a tier above!]
“Is the rift break” Joran completed grimly.
The figure was a large canine, towering at least two heads above a regular cultivator, exuding fire and sharpness Ethra affinities together.
“What does that second line mean?” Giselle asked as she and Harun made it to the top of the walls.
“It means that just because that flame fang beast is tier 3 doesn’t mean adepts would find it easy with them, their true tier in strength could be likened to tier 4” Joran explained.
“Lord rank” Tunde breathed calmly.
He did his best to avoid glancing at the elder who had refused to advance to lord stage, saying nothing.
“Then we’d be sending our disciples to die,” Harun said.
“Not exactly,” Joran said as he pointed at the rift.
[tier 3 flame fang wolf] the Ark said as Tunde stared at the beast that had come out first, its cloak on black fire, jaws of metal silver that glinted even in the encroaching darkness of the storms. From the rift came hundreds of its kinds, tiers 2 and 1, all slavering, clearing the way for more tier 3 flame fangs that began to appear. They growled at the walls; eyes alight as they puffed their chests.
“Projection attacks, Tunde” Joran called out.
Tunde grabbed a stone, imbuing it with resonance as he threw it with the force of a blasting projectile, watching as it connected with the first beast, its head exploding in a shower of gore and bone. The entire wall grew silent, even the beasts whimpering in shock at the sight before a cheer came from the disciples atop the walls, unbelieving what they had seen.
Tunde watched the tier 3 beasts howl to the skies as their coats burned brighter and they released fiery black attacks at the walls. Tunde was about to shout to the disciples manning the Ethra cannons to fire when the walls glowed a little the attacks hitting it before exploding backward towards the fangs that scrambled out of the way, the attack taking out most of them.
“What was that?” Tunde breathed.
“Some defensive talisman the baron had given us when building the walls, one time attack, takes a long time to recharge depending on the Ethra in the air,” Joran said.
Miria glanced up, licking her lips, Tunde wondering why he had been staring at them.
“It won’t take long then” she replied.
“True, but not in time for that,” Joran said as large figures stepped out of the rift itself.
Charcoal skin covered in black crude-looking armor, roaring as they stood at over ten feet tall, orange eyes fiery with the power of elemental fire as the flame fangs all sat on their hunches in perfect order.
“Should have known it wouldn’t have been that easy” Harun said grimly.
[infernal brutes tier 4!]
“Infernal brutes” Tunde read out.
“Look on the bright side, at least thanks to the hegemons, we now know just what creatures we’re facing,” Giselle said, trying to lighten the air.
It didn’t work.
They carried large weapons and heavy shields made of just lumps of metals beaten into shape, roaring at the walls. One smashed the ground, grabbing a huge chunk of it as it immediately caught on fire, throwing it at the wall, Joran was moving immediately as the attack sailed towards them, the disciples moving and shouting too late. One vibration Ethra imbued resonance and the rock exploded into tiny burning pieces of fire, burning on their way to the ground.
“Tunde!” the elder barked.
Tunde nodded, turning to the disciples.
“Leave the brutes to me and the elder, do whatever you can to stop those flame fangs, move together,” he said, shouting out commands as easily as they came to him.
Ethra sight was activated and Shadowfang in hand, now was not the time to test his fighting technique of the flowing fists, now was for brutal bloody gore. The Ethra cannons began to fire away as even the black swan took to the skies, its ship cannons pounding at the spot of the rift.
Tunde jumped off the wall, imbuing both himself and the axe as Ethra razor discs manifested all around him, firing into the hordes of the creatures. He could see the glowing form of the elder, see his Ethra lines blazing with both affinities that he had even as today felt a pang of envy at the sight of the elder fusing both affinities together. He faced his own battle, Ethra sight seeing one second into the future as one of the discs sliced a rock that came at him in two.
Two fangs came at him in the air, blasting black fire and claws glowing with sharpness Ethra, Shadowfang moved twice in the air, the two wolves falling to the ground helpless. Landing, he made his way towards the first brute who took notice of him, its large metal club coming down on him with speed and pure force. Shadowfang imbued with resonance blasted the thing away from him as the brute reeled back in shock at the strength of the tiny creature before him.
Tunde was already moving, running on the metal club and jumping on the chest of the creature. Ethra sight had him rolling to the side, dodging a blast of searing black fire before he buried Shadowfang into the neck of the brute that roared in rage, dragging it sideways and unleashing a torrent of blood on both him and the creatures below. Its body began to heal rapidly much to Tunde’s horror as he used Shadowfang to propel himself atop the skull of the creature.
Raising Shadowfang up, the creature took a second to realize the miniature enemy it had been looking for was atop its skull, but by then it was already late. Tunde brought Shadowfang down with all the strength in his imbued arm, resonance burning with glowing starry bands around the axe as it cracked the skull of the brute like an egg before detonating within its skull, blowing it apart just as well.
The body tumbled to the ground, Tunde breathing heavily as he drew from the Ethra in the air, his heart pounding heavily as he rode the dead body to the ground. The flame fangs around its surroundings were crushed as the body slammed into them, suddenly finding Elder Joran at his side.
“Seriously, must you make a mess of everything?’ the elder asked distastefully as he clapped his hands.
All the flame fangs around began to whine as they crashed to their hunches in pain, some even spasming.
“I just brought down a tier 4 brute,” Tunde said as the other brutes came at them.
“And I just immobilized the entire ground force of the rift creatures, have some humility will you?” the elder said.
Tunde lurched away and towards another brute as they smashed through their own flame fangs without a care in the world, a jagged metal sword swinging at him through the air as a brute came for him. This one was faster than the first he had killed, but Ethra sight still kept up with one step ahead of it, his body however was another issue. The force of the swing threw him through the air as he cursed silently, landing and rolling, the blade slamming into the ground where he had landed a split second later.
He was up and moving, running towards the brute who roared at him in a challenge, rotten teeth revealed in a smile as he swung the blade again. This time, imbuing his literal Ethra into the axe the wolf’s head and eyes glowed as he used his rift Ethra, the power slicing through the thick slabbed blade in one swing, the brute staring dumbly at it. Carrying on the attack he shot towards its knee, the brute realizing too late just what was about to happen as the axe bit deep and summarily sliced through the knee joint.
The creature roared in rage and sheer agony as it fell to one side, Tunde following it and landing on its face before swinging his axe again, the edge biting into its skull as a blow from its fist almost shattered his entire body, coughing blood but triggering resonance, the skull exploding again. Staggering as he landed, he stared at the last brute who could only watch in shock, elder Joran appearing at the side of its shoulder, one tiny palm pressed to the side of its head as his aura expanded.
“Lord stage,” Tunde thought in shock.
Why had he been hiding it?, when had he advanced?. The thought hung in his head as the elder triggered some sort of attack inside the skull of the creature that exploded, showering him in gore that somehow fell anywhere but his clothes.
“That was fun!” Joran said as his aura switched back to adept stage, Tunde confused.
“Shall we go see what’s inside the - “he almost completed when a large form came out of the rift.
Almost double the size of the brutes, it stood tall, four hands each holding some sort of crude melee weapon from a blade to an axe to a club and finally a rod. On its chest, locked in place was the rift crystal, glowing as the helmeted brute roared.
[peak tier 4 infernal brute guardian]
“Well, it’s all yours,” Joran said as Tunde sighed, glancing at the grinning elder.