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Vir had several reasons for wanting to fight this band of Chitran soldiers. At the moment, it was the thrill of a fight that interested him most. What tattoos would he get to see? What bloodline arts? What techniques?
He didn’t have to wait long to find out.
The first attack was swift, but it was neither physical nor Chakra, as Vir had expected.
Earth Affinity prana flared from the demon’s tattoo.
The guard bellowed, and the world shook. A good chunk of Prana Armor sheared off, and Vir Micro Leaped back.
Warlord’s Battlecry? Vir guessed. The Chitran Bloodline Art. emboldened one’s courage and aggression while striking fear in their enemies. Vir had wondered how a pranic ability accomplished such a thing. Now he knew.
The shockwave washed over Vir, and without Prana Armor, he didn’t rightly know what would’ve happened to him. The battle might’ve ended right then and there.
“Come on!” the Chitran warrior roared. His voice was an octave lower, deeper. More primal. Even his stance had lowered into something more feral.
The monkey man lunged at Vir with motions that mimicked an ape. After bounding left, then right, he threw a wide right hook.
Vir blocked but aborted and dodged at the last moment. The attack was heavy. Too heavy for a mere prana-empowered blow. No, the hook was clad in Warrior Chakra.
Can’t let their attacks hit me!
No armor would protect him from a strike at his soul, and Prana Armor wouldn’t last long against attacks reinforced with prana. Besides, he needed to preserve it for any further prana-based attacks like Warlord’s Battlecry.
The guard leveraged the momentum from his punch to initiate a spinning slice of his Talwar.
Once again, Vir sensed the heavy aura of Warrior Chakra coating his blade. Promising to slice his soul.
Though the danger was real—at least, once Prana Armor had been defeated—with Haste active, attacks of this level were no match for Vir. Not one on one.
“Movement arts, huh? Aspect of the Forsaken Skies? Or perhaps Crossroads…” his opponent snarled, licking his monkey lips. “Now, this ought to be fun.”
Vir once again thanked the gods that demonic tattoos had so much variety. It allowed him to pass off a lot under the guise of some Aspect tattoo.
“No! Stop,” the guard captain ordered—though it came off as more of a plea. He was overruled.
Once again, a shockwave of prana smashed into Vir, taking another chunk of Prana Armor with it. Another guard had activated Warlord’s Battlecry.
Current surged to its maximum strength, but he couldn’t take many more blows before the armor failed. With the surrounding lack of prana, Vir was unable to replenish much between attacks.
“Let’s get him!” the other guard roared. The captain, perhaps unable to resist his soldiers’ Warlord’s Battlecry, followed suit.
Now that’s interesting, Vir mused.
Whatever mental effects Warlord’s Battlecry had upon the caster affected their nearby allies as well. One wasn’t enough to overpower the commander’s instincts, but two seemed to do the trick.
The two warriors joined the fight, attacking Vir with Chakra-laden strikes, forcing him on the defensive.
Vir heard a snarl from somewhere.
“Stay out of this!” Vir ordered.
“What? Begging for mercy? You are far too late!” the guard hollered, thinking the words were intended for him.
It was as if they were drunk. Which was why they never noticed Shan’s jet-black form, only paces behind them. Ready to lop off their heads.
The Ashfire wolf, however, reluctantly backed away.
For Vir’s plan to work, Shan couldn’t be seen with him. Not yet, anyway.
Vir ducked and dodged the incoming punches, burning prana for speed. Haste gave him an unfair advantage—their strikes couldn’t land.
Unfortunately, it also consumed prana with reckless abandon.
Need to finish this fast.
Grabbing a guard’s arm, Vir slammed an Empowered fist into their wrist.
The guard’s talwar went flying, and before he could retreat, Vir tripped him, sending him to the ground.
Vir turned to his next foe—the captain—when he detected a prana surge from within their body.
Bracing himself, he jumped away… or tried to.
His movements had suddenly slowed. Not only that, his adversaries’ speed had also doubled.
They were now even.
Warlord’s Domain! Vir belatedly realized. Another Chitran Bloodline art.
“Take him down!” the frenzied commander roared.
Clang!
For the first time in this fight, Vir was forced to block.
It was good that he did—the Chakra in his opponent’s sword had similarly grown. Both the commander and his guard’s eyes glowed red, and they moved so erratically, Vir was barely able to fend off their strikes.
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Clang! Clang!
Only now did Vir understand the potential of the Chitran Bloodline Arts. One warrior could empower his comrades… and all of his comrades could in turn empower him.
For the duration of their art, they became, in essence, super soldiers. The more of them they were, the more pronounced the effect.
Where they might’ve been Balar fifty before, they were each easily over Balar One Hundred now.
Vir barely dodged a talwar, losing a few hairs in the process. He snuck low beneath the strike to drive an Empowered punch into his enemy’s solar plexus.
The weight carried the full might of his power, and his enemy was lifted cleanly off his feet and into the warehouse’s nearby wall.
The guard was unconscious before he even hit the ground. Vir silently thanked his demonic constitution—had they been human, they’d have surely died.
The attack hadn’t come without cost, however.
The commander’s sword eviscerated Vir’s Prana Armor, blowing it away entirely.
Now, Vir was exposed. The next strike that hit him would slash his soul, dealing permanent, crippling damage.
Vir cursed. Until now, he’d refrained from using any of his pranic powers, lest they be used to identify him.
He no longer had such luxury.
Prana Darts flew from his hand, colliding with the seric talwar the captain wielded, throwing him off balance.
Vir Blinked, smashing the pommel of his blade into the captain’s steel armor.
Yet, instead of sailing through the air from the impact, it was Vir who was sent off balance. The captain had wrenched his body away at the last moment in a feat of extreme dexterity, redirecting most of Vir’s force.
Vir stumbled, pouring prana into his muscles to stop himself.
He was too late.
The temperature cooled rapidly, freezing the sweat on Vir’s face.
A storm of icicles slammed into him, tearing through the gaps in his armor, and drawing blood. His wooden mask cracked.
For the briefest moment, pain consumed him. Then his instincts, honed from years of fighting Ash Beasts, activated. Toughen pulled blood from his wounds, and his pranites went to work healing him.
That was too close, he thought.
The captain’s Aspect of Midwinter’s Embrace had, luckily, not been laden with Chakra. According to Cirayus, only the most capable warriors could. If it had, Vir would be dead.
That’s it. Time to end this.
Vir Blinked rapidly around his enemy, leaving only afterimages in his wake, and slamming Empowered punch after punch into the captain’s body.
The Kothi’s metal armor protected him, but the rigid metal was weak against blunt force attacks. And Vir’s hit like an Ash’va.
The captain’s movements suddenly seized. His godly speed left him, and he stumbled. The captain looked around, as if confused.
Vir cocked his arm to deliver the final blow.
“W-wait!” the captain yelled, though it was more a plea for mercy than a command.
Vir’s fist stopped just a hair’s breadth from the demon, ready to demolish his ape-like nose.
The captain sunk to his knees.
“Please, stop! Any more, and I’ll have to report this.”
Vir canceled Haste and lowered his arm.
“Well,” he said, using his haughtiest voice. “I suppose you’ve given me a good bit of exercise. This shall do for tonight.”
Vir swept his gaze across the two downed kothis, who groaned in agony as they tried to regain their bearings. Seeing Vir, they panicked, desperately trying to scramble away.
The monkeys crawled on all fours—trying, and failing—to get up.
Vir laughed.
Whatever drug Warlord’s Domain and Warlord’s Battlecry was, it had some debilitating after-effects.
“I presume I’ll have no trouble from the guards in the future?” Vir asked.
Also on all fours, the captain nodded vigorously. “We know better than to trifle with a Warrior of such high prestige.”
“Good. Now, let us discuss your remuneration.”
“Remuneration? I-I am to blame for my subordinate’s actions, honored warrior,” the captain said, bowing his head. “I can only beg for your forgiveness.”
“I am afraid I cannot let you off so easily,” Vir replied smoothly. “Tell me, what would your superiors think if they learned your guard acted so rashly? Attacking someone of my status? What would they think of you, when they learn you lost control of the situation?”
The captain gulped. “What would you ask of me?” the terrified captain whispered.
“Only that you tell your friends to leave the figure in the black mask alone. Nothing good comes of crossing my kin. You understand?”
“Your kin? Ah! Yes, of course, ser. Is… is that all?” the captain asked, evidently surprised to have been let off so easily.
“For now.”
The captain looked up at Vir. “Consider it done. The guards shall bother you on your escapades no longer. I know better than to trifle with a Warrior of such high prestige. Besides, no one would dare you after witnessing your skills this night. If… if I might ask, who are you?”
“Would you like to know?” Vir asked, peering through his cracked mask.
“Please. I must know the name of the one who bested us! For our honor!”
“My name… is Vaak. Vaak—of Ash. See that you do not forget it.”
“Vaak, of the Ash!” the captain repeated in awe. “I will remember it!”
“Good.” Vir whirled, his robe fluttering behind him. “Now begone.”
The captain rounded up his injured guards—including the ones Shan had managed to knock out—and left in a hurry, leaving Vir behind to take his pick of food.
With a sack full of vegetables, fruits, grains, and legumes, he Leaped up to the wall and left.
----------------------------------------
Vir took his time returning to the orphanage. For one, he had to be sure he wasn’t being tailed. Chasing someone who could move as fast as he did, who was actively searching for pursuers, and who could detect prana signatures, wasn’t an easy feat.
After confirming that nobody had followed him, Vir stopped on a rooftop. Partly to allow his prana to recover. Partly to check in on Shan, who landed silently next to him a moment later.
“Nice work, Shan,” Vir said, moving to pet him, but the wolf pulled back and growled.
“Look, it’s not that I didn’t want your help. You saw how close that was! But you can’t be seen with me. Not while I’m Vaak. Please understand. I had to fight them alone. And I’ll have to do it again in the future.”
One of the main reasons he’d provoked the guards was to prove that he wasn’t to be trifled with. Such lessons generally only needed to be learned once. At least, he hoped. There were limits to how far he’d go.
He couldn’t maim or kill them—that’d spark an investigation—but showing the authorities Vaak was not to be trifled with would keep them off his back, at least for a while.
As for his identity, Vir didn’t think the captain could find anything, even if he did investigate. For now, at least, Vaak was safe.
Which meant that Bolin would be too when he donned the mask.
Protecting Bolin was only one of his goals, however. Vir wanted Vaak’s name to spread. Between the bully Svar spreading the word and news of what happened here, he hoped certain others would take notice.
Shan gruffed, and after giving him one last look, disappeared.
Vir took off his mask and crossed his legs on the roof, exhausted. The fight had taught him several valuable lessons.
For one, Vir now knew he could wipe the floor with the guards and guard captains—if he was willing to kill them.
Prana Blade would’ve neutralized those three in moments, even without help from Dance of the Shadow Demon.
He’d nearly crippled himself for this fight. Aside from that one time he shot his Prana Darts, he’d relied only on his prana-enhanced body, fighting skill, and basic movement arts.
It’d been tough, but only because he hadn’t known what to expect. Chitran’s Warlord’s Domain and Warlord’s Battlecry were certainly something to look out for, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Isolated soldiers weren’t anything to worry about. Against groups, the key was to take them out before they could activate their abilities.
Even doubly boosted, they hadn’t been a match for him. Rather, it was on the battlefield where the Chitran abilities would shine. If it ever came to an army battle, Vir genuinely feared their might. Especially with their Ultimate Bloodline Art—Demonic Overlord.
Aspect of Midwinter’s Embrace was more problematic. Not so much because of its potency, but rather because of its accessibility—nearly any demon could learn it. If every foe Vir fought could launch icicles and freeze land, Vir would have a hard time.
As he was learning, fighting demons was like fighting proficient Talent Wielders… Who were also mejai. And stronger physically than a human.
Cirayus is right. One-on-one, demons would destroy humans, hands down.
The most worrying part of the fight had been the prana drain. The Prana Armor he’d spent days building had been stripped clean, and he’d burned through two-thirds of his body’s capacity.
Even an hour later, it hadn’t appreciably recovered. At this rate, it’d take the better part of a day.
I gotta be more efficient with my prana consumption from now on.
Haste was the worst culprit. When compared to Blade Launch, it consumed little, but it was still many times costlier than Leap and Blink.
Vir would have to rethink his strategy. And improve.
But that was alright. Because improving was what Vir did. Just like the beasts in the Ashen Realm, Vir would find the most optimal strategy.
And then, when he’d perfected his form, no one in the realm would threaten him.