Tunde found himself secluded within the vessel, the same room he had always used while aboard the swan. Isolde and Giselle were on the upper decks, discussing with Captain Hajan, the man still in charge of the ship, the only one who knew the ship well enough. His room, as always, was bare of anything except a bed and a spare set of robes neatly folded next to it, Tunde seated beside the bed, cycling his Ethra, feeling its energy run through him.
The ride had been smooth so far, nothing more than a few flying creatures that had attempted to assault the ship. In between the disciples, Isolde and Giselle, they had been able to fend them off, the vessel’s cannons killing some of them. The tier 4 leader of the flying creatures had attempted to assault the ship, until Tunde released his aura, allowing the creature to get a feel of what was in store for it should it persist, it had given a childish squawk, wisely turning away.
Opening his eyes, he went through his options of affinities he had heard and read about. All depended on his waiting for the convergence that would follow immediately after the surge, the time of the great hunt as it was called. He dismissed any elemental affinities, he had seen enough of their abilities and knew well enough that while they were one of the easiest to find and cultivate due to the overabundance of them flowing in nature and reality, the higher one went, the lesser their returns.
The same went for weapon affinities as well, blades, shields, whatever it was, his Ethra was destructive enough to handle whatever damage he wanted to met out. A question came to him as he called up his screen, realizing he hadn’t asked the most fundamental of questions.
[Ifa, what is the nature of my Ethra?] he wrote.
The sentience seemed to pause before replying, as if deliberating just how much it should reveal to him. Tunde suspected that was what it was doing.
[cosmic Ethra, is the bloodline Ethra gotten from the realm walker itself, bestowed to one line of Luwaye. It is the Ethra of the planes of reality, the Ethra of the paths] it replied.
Tunde found himself sighing.
[explain further] he wrote.
[insufficient advancement rank]
He suspected as much, rolling his eyes as he asked another question.
[what concept did Luwaye have?]
[the concept of the Ethereal edge, a fusion of the cosmic and blade affinities] it replied.
Tunde found himself surprised that the hegemon had picked the most basic of affinities to fuse with. Tunde though, had no desire to go that route, running a few affinities he could think of through the sentience, throwing some suggestions off Ifa, asking it about potential combinations, what he realized was that the cosmic affinity he possessed tended to overshadow the other affinity. Tired of the same monotone replies of the sentience stuck within his head, he got to his feet, going for a walk.
The corridors were filled with cultivators doing one thing or the other, bowing as he made his way past them to the upper decks where Giselle, Isolde, and Captain Hajan sat around a table, staring at a map. On sighting him Isolde drew a chair closer to them, motioning for him to sit down, Tunde accepting gracefully.
“How are we doing?” Tunde asked.
“Making good speed to Jade Peak, we should be flying above the ruins any moment from now” Hajan replied.
The man had maintained his air affinity, deciding to keep being a disciple for the main time, Tunde hadn’t pressured him, simply giving him a few tier 3 elixirs and pills from his personal stores, informing him that whenever he wanted to advance, he was fine to do so.
“I’d like to take a look,” Tunde said.
“Nothing more than wild creatures and the occasional rifts that are closed by the scavengers that come from black rock, none are there currently though” Giselle informed him.
Tunde nodded, moving towards the window and staring at the glassed and charred landscape that stretched as far as he could see. Varis had been thorough in turning everything into ashes, with no building standing.
“How then do the scavengers get anything from here, it’s all ash” Tunde observed.
“They dig underneath, elder Wren said the clan still boasted of enough loot underneath those ashes, but the ruins are also the home of creatures like I said earlier, it’s not a safe place for disciples and initiates, especially at night” Isolde replied.
“Somehow, as is the nature of Ethra, it has bred these creatures of ash and molten metal that call the ruins home. They mostly appear at night or dusk” she continued.
“The scavengers told you this?” Tunde asked as he glanced skywards.
“Yes, in fact- “she said, pausing as realization dawned on her.
“Wait a minute, no, noooo” she drawled out as Giselle chuckled.
“I’ve got to admit, I’ve been curious about them as well,” she said as Isolde turned to her with an exasperated look.
“We have a mission!” she protested.
“Which will go as planned, shouldn’t take me long to root out their habitat” Tunde replied, hands folded behind him.
Isolde folded her hands together.
“You just want an excuse to test out those blades” she accused.
“That, and see how well Giselle does in a battle against superior numbers,” Tunde said.
She turned to Hajan for help, the large man chuckling.
“Seeing the lord in battle is always a delight, something that I’m sure would raise the hopes of the cultivators aboard the ship,” he said.
Tunde chuckled.
“All right, how about this, we don’t spend more than an hour, the ship goes ahead, and we’ll catch up,” Tunde said.
“May I humbly remind the lord that I can’t fly?” Giselle said drily.
Tunde smiled.
“I know, you’ll just have to catch up,” Tunde said as Giselle grinned.
“a challenge, I like that” she replied.
“This is madness” Isolde whispered.
Hajan bumped her.
“Admit it, you’re also curious to see his lord rank strength in battle, I’ve heard so much about it from Harun.” The captain said.
“Not enough to waylay the mission, but fine, we wait for one hour, I’ll contact the merchant ahead of time, and tell him we’ll be delayed a bit but on our way” Isolde grumbled.
“So you do want to see him fight,” Giselle said.
“Might as well see what all the fuss is about” she muttered as Tunde grinned, turning back to stare at the ruins in front of him.
*****************************************
Baron Crispin ‘greed gut’ Ramu of the Bright Bow consortium grumbled as he bit into the tender flesh of the roasted bird he was eating, outrage in his eyes. Seated within the tent his servants had erected, the obese lord-ranked cultivator with pale skin and slit eyes garbed in silk robes raged.
“How dare they!” he said, throwing the bone at a slave.
The projectile firmly lodged itself in the chest of the frail-looking initiate, dead before his body even touched the ground, the other servants reeking of terror. Picking another roasted piece, he licked his hands. Not only had his clan been sent this far out to deliver supplies at the behest of the imperial clan, but the patriarch of his clan had chosen him and his ship to be the deliverer of the supplies as well, something he found himself boiling at.
The Ramu clan while being one of the main merchant clans of the empire, boasted of hundreds of its descendants running their businesses across its vast landscape, and somehow, the patriarch had chosen him to deliver what simply amounted to relief supplies to the farthest edges of the empire.
Not only was it an insult to him and his fledgling branch family, but it was also a slap on his face, the patriarch of the Ramu clan simply telling him that he was useless in their eyes. Still, Crispin had taken the job, not for the meager pay of two hundred thousand lumens, but for another reason entirely, one that would turn clan Ramu to a pile of smoldering ashes should the imperial clan find out.
The brotherhood.
The ghost-like organization that ran the shadow market, an organization that Crispin, despite his somewhat vast wealth and reach was still a lower-ranking member of. The bounty, not only with its hefty sum but also its possibility to advance his ranking a step higher in the brotherhood was an opportunity he couldn’t pass on.
Assassin lords all over the empire had begun to move, all gravitating towards the wastelands, those that wanted the job anyways. A lot of skirmishes had broken out among those who had taken the job and had met up with each other, so much that the brotherhood had been forced to step in, sending out their supposed ‘guests’ to the field.
The baron was no assassin, but when he had found out that there was a possibility of gaining information about this ‘Tunde’ during his run to the ruins of clan Verdan, he had gleefully taken the job. Still, he needed assistance, grunts in his opinion that would do the job of actually finding him, and so he had formed something of a strenuous alliance between the three other lord assassins that had come along with him for easy transportation.
Three assassins who were as different as they could ever be, their true names known, even if he found it much to his distaste. They knew him, seeing as he was from a noble clan, but seeing as they were nobodies, he still found himself curious enough to know their names. They went by monikers, assigned titles given to them during their long years of contract killing. The first, was the silent serpent, a figure swathed in light black robes that somehow hid his identity even in broad daylight.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Staying holed up in his quarters till they arrived at the borders of the ruins of clan Verdan, Crispin had found him the most bearable of the three, he stayed where he was put, never disturbing the servants or anyone, mostly because his aura simply killed those that strayed too close to his quarters. The second was the mighty reckoner, a savage, loud, and abrasive brute of a cultivator whose very presence disgusted Crispin even aboard his ship.
Eating like a starving man every time, nearly finishing the reserves he kept for himself, his only usefulness was when they had found themselves in the middle of a rift opening in the air and he had simply jumped in, coming out a few minutes later with the head of the rift guardian, covered in blood and gore.
The last was the one whose presence Crispin found most hypocritical, the tranquil executioner as he was called. Posing as a hermit or monk, Crispin wasn’t sure which, the bald, bead-wearing, morning star carrying cultivator unnerved him to say the least. His presence among the servants was akin to a calm benevolent being, but Crispin could see through the façade, could smell and taste the killing intent beneath it all, even the reckoner avoided him, and that spoke for something.
“Who lives in this hegemon forsaken place?” a loud voice said, breaking Crispin’s train of thought as he made an annoyed tsk.
The reckoner, the large figure making his way through from the large vessel behind him and standing close to him, his body reeking of gallons of alcohol.
“please” Crispin started, his voice a raspy thing.
“Tell me you didn’t just take a swim in the vats I intend to sell to those coming from the settlement”
The reckoner gave a lough laugh that shook the tent, Crispin wondering why he had even considered taking him along.
“Never fear my fat rich friend” he replied as Crispin felt his ire growing.
“Your vats are as safe as your fleshy rolls!” he added.
Crispin considered striking him down there and then, a solid hit to incapacitate him, he might retaliate, lose a few defensive constructs on him, but it would be worth it.
“For our sakes, I hope so, nothing must put them off” Crispin muttered.
“You worry too much, Baron Crispin” the soft, deceptively calm voice of the executioner came from behind as he moved closer to them.
“By the light of Astradriel, our endeavor will proceed smoothly, have faith”
“Excuse me if I don’t believe in some hegemon a continent away” Crispin muttered.
“Besides, weren’t you exiled from the cult?” the reckoner said as Crispin immediately activated a defensive construct.
Searing light killed the servants around them, leaving them in a pile of steaming chopped up body parts, Crispin hissing at the waste.
“Ah, there he is,” the executioner said, his bright brown aura shielding him as the large double-headed spiked maul he carried slammed into the morning star of the monk.
“Have you two lost your minds?” Crispin snarled, more of a shriek.
“Our guest could be watching; your brash impulses will not come in the way of my impression of the contractors!” he said.
The monk’s glacial expression cracked and returned to a somber look, bowing at the reckoner.
“By Astradriel’s light, I apologize, my friend,” he said.
The huge cultivator said nothing, merely shaking his body as if to dispel tension before looking away, Crispin sighing. His communication construct glowed with an incoming message when he glanced at the both of them.
“Assume your positions,” he said crisply.
Both stood at attention behind him, another slave already hauling off the bodies of the dead slave, the gore washed away just as quickly. The face of the young adept woman with one eye came to life as she bowed at the waist.
“Greetings, lord Crispin” she started.
“Adept Isolde!, please, forgo the formalities, how fares your trip?” he asked with a bright smile.
“I regret to inform you, venerable lord, that we will be an hour late you see”
“Oh?, trouble?” Crispin asked, trying to put on a concerned look.
“Of a sort, our vessel suddenly developed issues over the ruins and we’re beset by abominations of ash and glass spawned from the ruins of Jade Peak,” she said.
“Perhaps I might be of assistance?, the bright bow consortium would never leave an ally in trouble,” he said.
It would be a good chance for his allies to gain an understanding of the settlement, and find out what lords ruled among these parts.
“Your benevolence is greatly appreciated, lord Crispin, but won’t be needed, our lord here is up to the task,” she said.
“Oh?, a single lord?” he probed.
“Indeed, lord Tunde is more than capable of handling them”
It took all of his self-control not to react to that message, something he was grateful his allies were wise enough to understand seeing as they became still.
“This lord Tunde must be quite powerful to be able to hold his own alone, I would very much like to meet with him,” Crispin said with a bright smile.
“he’s coming along with our ship as well,” she said.
“Perfect, I await your arrival then!” he finished, watching the transmission wink out.
A shadowy form was suddenly at his side.
“We should strike now,” it said.
Crispin bit back his jolt of fear, aware of the killer’s gaze on him despite the hood he wore.
“Right when she told us of his whereabouts?, that would tip them off, no” Crispin ordered.
“I do not owe you allegiance,” he said.
“No, but you will when I climb the ranks of our contractors, plus, you want to take him on alone?” Crispin asked.
“a lord is just that, a lord, nothing more, nothing less” the silent serpent replied.
With that said, he turned and began walking into the hot sun, moving in the direction of the ruins in the far distance.
“All that isolation, it must have gotten to him,” the reckoner said as Crispin sighed, rubbing his forehead.
“We cannot allow him to get the contract all by himself,” the executioner said.
“You want to head out as well?” Crispin asked.
“I move by Astradriel’s light, he guides me”’ the hermit replied.
“Oh?, and what does your hegemon of light and justice tell you?” Crispin asked sarcastically.
The executioner’s expression for once changed, becoming guarded.
“That this predator won’t be an easy one to put down,” he said.
Crispin wasn’t sure what bothered him the more, the fact that the executioner seemed hesitant, or he had called this Tunde a predator instead of a prey.
***************************************
Tunde found himself not believing that he had once lived in what for lack of words could only be described as a waste. Nothing remained except ash, soot, and molten metal, it was a stark reminder that the Highlord currently within black rock was a true Highlord, not some half-baked one playing at emperor at the borders. His feet crunching with every step he took, Giselle walked quietly behind him, guard raised, her hardening affinity imbuement technique making her footsteps heavier.
She seemed on edge, his presence not really assuring her, Tunde wasn’t sure if it was due to the gathered cultivators aboard the vessel that stared down at them. They were somewhere close to what had been the jade towers, the former home of the adepts of the clan, and Tunde could see the creatures below the ashes and sand, hibernating, oblivious to their presence thanks to his Ethra sight.
He turned to Giselle.
“Brace yourself” he warned and then unleashed his aura.
It blew across the ashes like a violent storm, rousing the creature that had begun to take shape, drawing from the bountiful ash and glass that surrounded them. They took the shape of humanoid abominations, gaping mouths, and sharp molten metal claws. His screen pinged as Ifa wrote.
[Ashen Blightspawn:
Description: Born from the convergence of ash, glass, and molten metal, Ashen Blightspawn are formidable humanoid abominations, their bodies wreathed in swirling embers and sharp shards of glass along with claws of serrated metal]
Surprised at the message, wondering when it had begun to give him a description of creatures, he drew void edge, the two blades glinting in the sun as the first of the creatures came at him, a tier 2 thing. The blade wreathed in his aura cut through the creature easily, its death shriek grating as it simply dissolved back into ashes, its core, a tiny thing dropping to the ground.
Tunde frowned in disappointment, even with the Blightspawn being a tier 2 creature, he had expected more from it. Giselle moved, her large hammer swinging through the air, crashing into another tier 2 creature as it exploded and dissolved, leaving a core she tucked into her void ring.
“Seems easy enough,” she said.
Tunde really wished she didn’t.
From the ashes came dozens, and then dozens more, simply rising as if given form. That caused him to pause for a second, Ethra sight staring down at the ash as he willed it to go deeper, looking for where they came from. He found it, a look of distaste on his face.
“Even in their absence they still found a way to hound us” he growled.
“What?” Giselle asked, ducking and crushing another as the creatures sought to overwhelm them.
“Bend low” he ordered.
She obeyed without question, Tunde pouring his Ethra into one of the blades as it quivered before releasing the attack in a circle around him. A circle of cosmic Ethra, void strike, whipping out into the Blightspawns that came for them, obliterating them in their numbers, cores simply falling to the ground. Giselle stood up, eyes wide as she stared at what remained of the creatures in shock, the ship above reduced to silence as well.
Tunde turned his gaze up, towards the ship as he imbued his voice with aura.
“Coordinate with Giselle, if they become too much again, pound them to dust” he ordered.
“And you?” Isolde’s voice came from the ship, faint.
“Going to the source, I’ll be back” he replied.
One hand wreathed with void’s touch, Tunde slammed it into the ash below him, the technique tearing through it to leave a large hole beneath him, Tunde dropping into it with ease. Without waiting to hear Isolde’s protestations, he was sinking deeper, aware he had limited time before the hole was filled with ash from above. Ethra sight blazing, he took in the shape of the creature who birthed the abominations above, tendrils of ash Ethra flowing from it to the ash above.
[elder Blightlord mid-tier 4]
Staring up at him, the humanoid creature of ash and bone shrieked, the sound assaulting him even as it sought to somehow pass through him, tearing him from within. Tunde shrugged it off, his cycling pushing through it as he brought both blades wrapped in void touch down on its skull.
The explosion went off with a clap of thunder, the technique slamming into its calcified bony limb covered with a layer of crystallized ash. Its heart was a glowing green piece of crystal whose Ethra Tunde was all too familiar with. The stench of undeath permeated the air, turns out Varis hadn’t been as thorough in cleansing the taint of the revenants as he had thought he had been.
Tunde found himself somewhat happy at the thought.
The Blightlord’s other limb became sharp bony claws, clashing with him as one blade parried it, void spheres manifesting behind him before slamming into the creature, shattering the crystal ash armor on its body. Tunde slammed another attack on its skull before grabbing it and dropping a void touch punch to its mid-section, blasting it out of the ash and into the light of the sun, following a step after.
He burst out, covered with ash and staring at Giselle who scrambled backwards in fear, the cannons of the swan pointed at the creature who shrieked at him, enraged beyond reason. It began to swell in size, ash swirling around it as the armor thickened and Tunde watched it tower above him.
“Permission to pound it to dust lord!” Hajan’s voice came from the ship.
“Denied!” Tunde replied, a smile on his face.
This was what he was looking for, something to finally test his strength against as he unleashed his full strength as well, holding nothing back. The very ash exploded around him with his aura, his Ethra wrapping his skin like a secondary cloak, the blades in his hands elongated with Ethra at their edges. He held back his essence flame though, this was not a foe worthy of it, not even Varis had seen it at play, not yet anyways.
The creature forged a large blade, showing some form of sentience as Tunde spoke.
“Back to the ship,” he said to Giselle who simply nodded, knowing better than to think she could take on a foe like that without ending up dead. It swung the blade, gathering ash along with it.
“This entire place, it’s your body, isn’t it?” Tunde said to the Blightlord.
“Undying, unyielding, a perfect last card by those bastards”
“Unfortunately for you though, you met me, and I will not suffer the taint of undeath”
Tunde pointed the blade at the creature.
“Not anymore” he finished.
It came at him in a flurry of terribly fast blows, each swing enough to easily cleave a Sandshard in two. Tunde dodged it with Ethra sight, the technique allowing him to see each blow before the creature even moved, his blades parrying when necessary. The two danced above the ash sands, Tunde delaying the gratification of a final stroke as he learned from the creature what little it could teach him, considering the advantages and disadvantages of ash affinity before dismissing it.
A duck, a cut, and the creature was missing one arm that would inevitably regrow, except it didn’t. it stared at the stump, where cosmic Ethra lingered, unsure of what was happening. Igniting his blades with his Ethra again, the creature attacked mindlessly, gathering ash into the air in sharp lances, large rock-like shapes, and more, prepared to overwhelm him. Tunde smiled and shot forward, the attacks raining down on him from on high, a tiny figure amidst the onslaught.
They fell slowly, at least to his vision, Tunde weaving and dodging as if following the tune of a song, moving ever closer to the creature. It saw him, moving inevitably closer to itself, the creature raising the blade and gathering all its power, the ash, metal, and sand swirling around it as it prepared to deliver one final strike. Tunde cocooned himself in his aura and dashed even faster, stepping right up to it even as it brought the blade down.
One edge stopped the blade, and the other went straight for its heart, Tunde for shattering its ash crystal armor before lodging the blade right next to the shard of undeath crystal within its rib cage, detonating another void touch within it. the creature exploded violently, throwing him away as the rushing winds blew through the area, buffeting the black swan as well.
He landed in a heap, coughing as he got up, dusting his face, void edge in both hands tucked away back. Staring at its core, a tainted thing of a fusion of undeath and ash Ethra, a cheer came from above, the cultivators aboard roaring as he picked up the core, void touch shattering it before turning towards the vessel.