The purge of Jade Peak City took a little more than an hour, the forces of the Heralds and independent cultivators taking out the tier 4 creatures with speed and skill. Tunde cut them down with his imbued rod with which he launched void strike after void strike at the creatures, gathering their cores and keeping them. He was a blur within the streets, wherever he passed leaving nothing but dissipating gory corpses bereft of their cores, testing his advanced techniques to his satisfaction.
He had come across the now destroyed requisition hall that had once been elder Wren’s abode, stripping it clean of hundreds of herbs, elixirs, and pills in the blink of an eye, just in time to avoid Alaric who appeared a few seconds later along with Moros. Rings filled with enough resources to last black rock for the foreseeable future, he had returned to gathering cores and draining the basilisk of their Ethra, his body readily absorbing and refining it, all thanks to his relic he refused to summon for fear of the Heralds tracking his every move.
Tunde knew what it meant now, as a wielder of a fang of Alana. The risks he was putting himself in simply by being close to one of the servants of another of the hegemons, but still, a sense of calm had settled over him as he brought down the creatures, tearing the wings of a basilisk and impaling its neck into the ground with his rod, watching as void sphere disintegrated its head off its body in the blink of an eye.
When it was all said and done, the citizens of Jade Peak locked away within the safe talisman-covered rooms finally emerged into the destruction above, their eyes wide as they took it in, anguish written all over their faces. Tunde watched from a safe distance, he and Elyria who had returned to her old abode, picking up what was left of her belongings, everything now safely stored in her void ring. The high lord and lady returned after that, the incursion vanishing as they had no doubt killed its guardian. Tunde didn’t want to think about what a peak tier 5 guardian would be like, instead he focused on the both of them as they landed in the distance, watching as the Heralds surrounded them.
“a great change is coming to this place,” Elyria said softly.
He glanced at her, watching her somber look as he turned back to the setting sun.
“Good or bad?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“Depends on how you look at it, to be honest” she replied.
“On one hand, the third cycle of the beast surge has just begun, meaning this place would soon be overwhelmed by rifts that would simply spring into being, not to talk of the convergence coming”
“That reminds me,” she said, pausing in her explanation as she turned to him.
“What affinity did you acquire to create a concept?” she asked.
Tunde chewed on his reply before speaking.
“I didn’t,” he said.
She blinked at him, like he had said something profoundly impossible.
“And I don’t have a core yet as well, my body, aura, and heart have advanced, and yet, I’m technically still an adept, just one with an aura of a lord” he explained.
Elyria paused, mulling over it as she spoke.
“how’s that possible?,” she muttered, as if speaking to herself.
Tunde shrugged.
“No idea, you’re the one who knows how all these works, I’m just going with wherever fate takes me” he responded.
“You have your suspicions,” she said.
“Yes, and it's exactly what you’re thinking”
She nodded; Tunde could see her visibly restraining herself from glancing at his wrist where the black manacles lay. They had melded to his hands like ink, looking like tattoos the moment he had advanced to lord rank in aura, making it easier for him to pass it off as nothing more than an aesthetic. Watching the people of Jade Peak sift through the destruction, looking for their dead loved ones or possessions that survived the battle.
“What next for you?” Elyria asked.
“I could ask you the same”
She smiled.
“Same as always, I make my way to the technocracy” she responded.
“I aimed to make it there before I reached the peak of adept rank, and yet, here I am, one step away from lord and without a second affinity”
He bumped her shoulder.
“Guess we both have the same issue,” he said with a soft smile.
She shook her head, poking his shoulder.
“Oh no, my case is totally natural, you however, are something else entirely” she replied.
He raised an eyebrow at that.
“Not only did you get through three stages of advancements like they were nothing, but somehow, you’re tapping into the benefits of lord stage without fully being one” she explained.
“Right now, the only people around here who could possibly be a threat to you are the Highlord and lady, not sure how I’d do against you and your bizarre affinity anyways”
Tunde let that sink in before speaking.
“Really?” he said, eyes on Lady Aerin whose gaze met his at that moment, gesturing for him to come over.
Elyria snorted.
“It’s just sinking in, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes, but we have bigger issues now,” he said, nodding towards the Highlady as he made his way down the destroyed building, Elyria in tow.
The Heralds formed a semi-circle around their Highlady and Varis, the Highlord with his hands folded behind him, eyeing the both of them. Tunde had a distinct feeling about the Highlord, the fact that he paid more scrutiny to him than Aerin herself spoke a lot about him. He bowed in front of them both, Elyria in tow as well.
“Your abilities were observed during the incursion skirmish, my Highlord companion here has therefore decided that you will serve a purpose, for now,” she said.
Tunde kept the frustration out of his voice as he spoke.
“Purpose, lady Aerin?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I’m obliged to take you back to the enclaves to answer for Thorne’s crimes, more or less, I cannot go back empty-handed” she started.
“However, certain issues have come up, and my superiors have decided that an errant lord traitor is the least of our problems. Therefore, to put it simply, I have no use for you” she said bluntly.
“Varis on the other hand, has been instructed by the royal clan itself to keep you in his sights, meaning as of this moment, you belong to the Talahan clan, a vassal, congratulations” she completed.
Tunde was sure he heard a bit of pity in her voice.
He stood straight, turning his gaze to the Highlord before speaking.
“I’m in your care,” he said with a bow.
“Indeed, there is a lot I could accomplish with a lord with a concept of destruction,” Varis said.
Tunde said nothing, was that what his Ethra looked like now?.
“That means some sort of explosive Ethra, can’t say the clan didn’t gain something” Aerin replied.
“Destruction,” Rhyn said with wide eyes from where he stood.
Tunde stood straight, turning to Rhyn for a second before bowing to him, Varis raising one eyebrow.
“Thank you, you might now understand why, but someday, when we’re equals, let’s share a cup of wine, not as enemies, but as friends,” he said.
Rhyn said nothing for a few seconds before bowing back.
“I would be honored, lord Tunde” he replied.
“I grow weary of all these” Aerin said irritably, snapping her fingers.
The large armored adept herald stepped forward, a bound adept Moros at his side, glowering at Tunde from where large Ethereon-imbued manacles locked his hands together, Alaric not chained but at his side in silence, looking into the distance.
“They will have to answer for the crimes of their clan, a pity, you said your teacher was dead, didn’t you?” she asked Tunde.
He produced Elder Joran’s void ring, the silver item glinting in the dying light.
“His void ring, this I swear on my soul,” he said.
Aerin nodded.
“That should do, Hadas?” she called.
The adept stepped forward, tapping his void ring as six transport constructs appeared, his screen that still worked registering them as land riders. He admired them, the sleek constructs that hovered a few meters above the ground, the Heralds getting on them. Tunde glanced at elder Moros, unsure what would happen to him.
“They will follow us on their own strengths, either that or I kill them here,” Aerin said, noticing his confused look.
Tunde said nothing, watching as the Heralds left without so much as a glance, leaving him, Elyria, and the brooding Highlord who shifted his gaze from him to the distance.
Stolen story; please report.
“Lead me to black rock,” he said.
Tunde didn’t bother asking how he had heard of the place, watching as the Highlord rose into the air, waiting patiently.
“This is the point where you fly on your aura as well” Elyria whispered.
“And what if I don’t know how to do that?” Tunde asked mildly.
Elyria shook her head, turning her gaze to the Highlord as she owed.
“Venerable Highlord, this lowly adept begs a minute of your time to say my goodbyes to my companion,” she said.
Varis gave a slight nod.
“Goodbyes?” Tunde asked confused.
Elyria glanced at him as she stood straight, sighing before hugging him.
“I cannot come with you; I refuse to be dragged into whatever plans the Highlord has for you” she started.
“My fate lies in the other direction remember?” she said softly.
Tunde had a dozen questions, his heart beating loudly as he felt his breath turning ragged. Elyria was leaving, he knew it would happen sometime, but right now?. His last connection was being severed, leaving him adrift.
“I’ll be in touch one way or another as soon as I get to the technocracy, I wish you good luck Tunde, keep advancing my friend, and may the hegemons be with you” she finished.
Tunde bowed to her, biting back the tears as he spoke.
“May the hegemons be with you too, adept Elyria” he replied.
“Trust your aura” she whispered.
Tunde nodded, watching as she turned with a smile and began to dash across the destroyed landscape, leaving it. The voice of the Highlord rang out through the air, carried by his aura.
“Remnants of jade peak city” he started.
“I speak with the voice of the emperor and the clan of Talahan. This city and its rulers, clan Verdan have broken their oaths of loyalty to the imperial clan and have therefore been judged.”
“But the emperor’s gaze is benevolent, and you have been given two options. The first is to make your way to black rock, home of the lord you might know as the dark fist, perhaps you can gain some semblance of existence there” he continued.
Tunde pursed his lips; black rock didn’t have enough resources to cater to the hundreds that had been displaced.
“Your other option is to keep moving inwards, towards what I believe is Red Earth City, perhaps they will accommodate you” he completed.
Tunde watched as the majority of the people began to move towards the distance, apparently not wanting to have anything to do with black rock or anything that had the touch of clan Verdan in it. He preferred it that way, to be honest, at least black rock would find its feet first.
Taking a deep breath, he began to coax his aura as it spilled out of him, allowing his mind to imagine it raising him into the air. Nothing happened for a few seconds, the Highlord crossing his hands in silence, simply observing him.
A test then.
Tunde strained his will, watching as it began to twist around him in loops before he began to rise into the air, his concentration unbroken till he got to the height of Varis who spoke.
“I’d expect nothing less from you, now, proceed,” he said.
Nodding tightly, he steadily shot forwards, cycling his Ethra.
***************************
Thorne killed the third flesh bloater within the large ravine he was in, his body healing rapidly even as it expelled the thin venom-laced needles that it had injected into him. He had been left here, within a forest far from the towering spires of the necropolis with nothing but a bone knife and with no instructions on how to make it to the revenant city itself.
He had raged, shouted, and attempted to tear his way through the forest before he encountered a single tier 5 beast that almost ended his life, the same tier 5 beast whose tier 4 underlings were currently attempting to kill in swarms. Thorne had considered killing himself, this was not a fate he had envisioned for himself.
He was to kill her, Sabri, the lord turned Highlady of the revenants, lauded as a hero, vengeance for his slain comrades. Instead, here he was, right in the heart of enemy territory, branded as a traitor by the Heralds he had once called family, left to the mercies of sadistic unhinged cultivators of undeath. He had become a plaything, his life crashing before him, the bubbling sounds of more flesh bloaters rang out in the distance, their wailing calls to each other echoing through the air as the smell of their dead wafted all the way to him.
Thorne wiped the sticky mud off his hands, staring at the bone blade imbued with some sort of power that sharpened the more he killed with it, and right now, its deadly edge could tear through the most resistant decayed skin. The dozens of bodies of the flesh bloaters lying around him were a testament to that.
He turned his gaze in the direction where Sabri had flown off to, nursing injuries, pointing his blade without a word, the flesh bloaters coming out of the thick forests, no doubt sent by their tier 5 elder sibling. He would survive this trial, test, or whatever depraved game he was being put through, and then he would make it to Necropolis itself, one way or another, he’d do it.
The tattoo on his chest of a skull crowned with twisted thorns pulsed just a bit, as if in approval.
*********************************
Highlady Sabri knelt before the obsidian throne, head bowed, not daring to look up, to even twitch. In front of her was an observation disc, tuned to the lord currently battling within the cursed forest, her gaze on the delicately carved etchings on the ground, swallowing stiffly. The figure on the throne, whose gaze she dared not meet said nothing, and yet, even within the room she was in, she could feel the power of his presence and aura simply twisting his surroundings according to his whims.
He could leave her a pile of flesh and bones on the floor with just a thought, or better still, cause her to vanish completely if he didn’t want her staining his perfect ground. Such power brought fear and awe into her heart, a power that stood almost at the pinnacle of the world.
The power of a paragon.
She was protected only by the presence of the other man who stood next to the throne, the humble servant of the figure on the throne. Clad in white and green robes, hands that have torn apart more masters than she could count folded into his robes with dark milky green eyes on her. Sabri took solace in the fact that her teacher and master, guardian of a paragon was in the room.
She doubted anyone would fare well in the presence of the ghoul king himself.
A light rustle and the construct paused before folding in on itself, Sabri stiffening before the light voice of the king spoke, trembling with raw power woven into his aura. It scrapped across her skin like the grip of a predator around her neck, her otherwise evolved body somehow breaking over with sweat.
“I do find it hilarious that you took one of the Heralds as a candidate,” he said.
Sabri bowed lower.
“I live to serve” she replied.
“It was not a praise,” the king said as she froze, not speaking a word.
“I am curious as to see what becomes of him, and this gamble of yours, do not fail me Sabri, interesting times are coming,” he said as she bowed even lower.
***************************************
The harsh blowing winds of Ironthorn ripped through the entire mountain side, its vast landscape covered with sheet upon sheet of ice, its oceans a frozen glacier that thawed with the coming of spring. It was dead winter though, and no signs of life walked the entire area, at least, nothing human.
Large beasts prowled the icy lands, huge advanced creatures, some with sentience and some without, all of the higher tiers the deeper one went towards the northern cap. It was here, right in the middle of this icy jungle that a large city protected by a golden dome of power sat. shimmering as if made of gold, its tall buildings, and beautiful surroundings stood in stark contrast to the landscape into which it was built. Large and circular in nature, it was home to one of the most powerful cults on the continent itself, home of the keepers, and servants of Astradriel.
Large shimmering exotic creatures flew through the air within the barrier, different shapes and sizes, serving as transport animals of bonded creatures of the keepers within the city itself. Atop its highest building though, shaped like a flower with its petals opening sat a figure in meditation, eyes closed reality around him shifting with his every breath.
Clad in white and gold robes, flowing golden hair tied behind him, and an ornately styled sword at his side, sheathed but giving off a subtle pulse of power. He twitched, as if something disturbed him, sighing where he sat before clapping his hands softly once. Two figures were suddenly at his side, kneeling, heads facing the ground.
“You summoned us, venerable elder?” they spoke, both male and female voices at once.
“One of my duplicates has just been killed,” the seated figure said.
The two figures glanced at themselves before speaking.
“Where?” the male asked, golden eyes with what looked to be a rune dancing within it.
Both were clad in the same white and golden robes, white-haired with their auras tightly leashed to their bodies.
“Bloodfire, it’s all I know” the seated figure replied.
“Would you like us to go investigate, esteemed light?” the female asked, her voice soft.
The seated figure with the honorific ‘light’ sighed while shaking his head.
“No, I cannot afford to take you out of the northern skirmishes” he replied.
“The sun tyrant has the war well in hand, he can hold back the onslaughts of the servants of Temporus,” the male said.
Light frowned.
“The sun tyrant is a brash and reckless man-child with the luck of advancing to the rank of a master, he lives simply because the Chronomancers know better than to take out one of our core vassals during this surge” he replied.
“No, this is not a mission for esteemed masters such as you two, give it out as a contract, raise the price to whatever you see fit, you have my authority to draw from the cult’s vaults” he ordered.
The two masters glanced at themselves before speaking.
“Forgive us, esteemed light, but is one homunculus worth the effort?” the male asked.
“For all we know, it could have simply been killed off by an unfortunate encounter” the female added.
“That was what I thought too, except I didn’t get back any memories, it was like something or someone interfered,” Light said.
“Meaning they were aware, someone high up,” the male said.
“Either that or a weapon powerful enough to sever the link between me and the clone, either way, I am curious enough to investigate” Light completed.
The two masters bowed just as the skies outside the barrier tore in two and a large rift manifested, disgorging red-horned humanoid creatures that burned with red flames, a larger one behind them, exuding the power of a tier 7 rift creature, a paragon rank rift creature. All around the barrier, defensive constructs whirled to life, gathering enough power to wipe out a city from the map as they fired all at once at the creature.
The seeker known as light got to his feet, the two masters behind him staring in reverence as he spoke.
“Tell the guardians to turn off the constructs, it’s time I stretched my limbs a bit,” he said.
They nodded, getting to their feet as six white wings forged of Ethra burned to life behind them, inches from their bodies before they shot skywards, their auras spread out to announce their coming. The cultivator known as light stretched out his hands as his eyes burned golden, his irises filled with tiny runes that swirled. The air around him turned golden as he released his aura, bright white light shining from above as eight golden wings took shape behind him, four on each side.
Eyes within the wings snapped open, runes within them as the tier 7 creature outside the barrier roared in Defiance, the frozen landscape around it melting rapidly due to its fiery aura warping the area around it. light stretched out his hand, a golden spear taking shape within it, ornately carved with white and blue runes glowing on it.
He rose to the skies, a cheer breaking out from among the thousands of people who called this city home, watching as their greatest protector stepped out to face the creature in all his splendor. As he pointed his spear at the fiery creature that fired a wave of burning fire at him, a lance of golden power that lit up the skies tore out of the weapon, evaporating the attack of the creature and obliterating it from existence, its core floating into the hand of the man.
He turned back to his city, calmly floating back into it as the two masters and their army of Highlords took to wiping out the remnants of the creatures. Not once did he turn back nor did the people of the city stare in shock at the sight.
Only the most foolish of foes would attack the home of a paragon.
********************************
Tunde stood at the uppermost part of the stronghold itself, the winds blowing heavily as his robes flapped in the air. Black rock was silent in the night skies, tiny pinpricks of light lit up its surroundings within the walls, make-shift buildings being erected all around it.
A lot had happened within the span of three months, his hands at his side, clenched in a tight fist as he took a deep breath, calmly sitting down on a flat surface, closing his eyes. He could feel the heavy Ethra in the air, allowing his heart to cycle it, pushing it to the limit.
The death of elder Joran had cast a shroud around the growing city or what was left of it anyways. What remained of him buried, the Highlord had immediately taken control of the entire settlement, informing them that they were to be his blade for the coming trial. It hadn’t sat right with them, but evidently, no one said no to the Highlord of the imperial clan itself, and their safety was somewhat assured.
Varis hadn’t disclosed yet just what was coming, no one knew, but Tunde had an inkling of an idea, he could see it in the air thanks to Ethra sight. The raw power coming from the wastelands was enough to let him know that whatever they might be facing would be coming from that route. And black rock would be directly in its path. Taking a deep breath, he coaxed that power that lay within his stomach in a ball, the blazing inferno of fire that he had yet to understand, the pinging sound from his screen that shouldn’t exist yet cutting through his thoughts. He was something of a lord and he knew what he had to do and where he had to go, but for now, he would dance to the Tunde of the Highlord, there would be no other way.
With a deep breath, he allowed the Ark screen to come up as he wrote an inquiry.
[who are you?] he asked.
The screen froze as if contemplating the answer before it wrote back.
[I am Ifa, what would you like to know?]
Tunde stared with wide eyes at the message, a hundred more running through his mind.
[what are you?] he replied.
[insufficient level of advancement to obtain a reply, what else would you like to know?]
Tunde frowned, staring at his hand where the relic lay as a tattoo.
[what can you teach me?] he asked.
[so many things, what would you like to know?]
He took a deep breath, allowing his Ethra to suffuse him before he replied.
[everything].