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“Hold! Hold, or by the gods, I will take your kothi head myself!” Lagen barked, dealing a vicious blow to an Ash Wolf in mid-jump. Without the prana of the Ashen Realm to protect it, Lagen’s talwar cut deep into its soft belly. Such was the force of his blow that it redirected the animal’s momentum, sending it sprawling past Gunin, who stood with shaky legs and clattering teeth.
“Get a hold of yourself, Chit!” Lagen shouted. There was an edge to the Gargan’s voice—a sheen of deranged anger that no amount of self-control could suppress. Gunin shirked back from the pressure Lagen exuded, but then it was gone, with Lagen targeting his next opponent.
While the Gargan Bloodline Art Lionheart boosted his physical capabilities to monstrous degrees for a short time, it also robbed him of some degree of sanity. Complex thoughts became difficult, and if left unchecked, could even result in his total loss of control.
Control he was finding difficult to maintain, considering the demon who fought beside him.
In all his years, Lagen never once thought he would fight side by side with a Chitran. Back to back with the very chals who put his own clan into the ground. In fact, he planned to end the kothi the moment Neel had left alone to Praya Parul.
Then he’d flee. With the collars no longer operational, and with his pick of Ash’va, there was no need to linger. He could escape to Panav and make a new life for himself. The nagas had always been sympathetic to Gargan refugees, after all. Even with the collar around his neck, Lagen was confident he’d be allowed to stay there.
That had been the plan, right up until Ash Beasts had swarmed them.
Lagen took a swipe at a Shredder, who jumped back in the nick of time. No longer deranged by the Ashen Realm, these foes fought intelligently. While Lagen was no stranger to combat, he certainly hadn’t expected such difficulty facing weakened beasts.
Difficulty, however, did not mean inability. Lagen roared and charged the beast, ignoring the swipes it took at his arms. With Braveheart active, it’d take more than a few swipes to hurt him. He felt emboldened. Stronger than he’d ever been.
A part of him knew it was not his own power that deserved the credit. Not entirely. Lagen ignored that part.
He hurled into the bipedal beast and took it down, smashing its face with the pommel of his sword. Perhaps not the ideal strategy, but it sure helped vent his anger. He had quite a bit of that, for it was only well after the creature breathed its last did Lagen rise, storming back to Gunin.
Just looking at the kothi was nearly enough to set him off, and with Lionheart, Lagen wasn’t confident he could stop himself before he did something he regretted.
Releasing the ability, he took a deep breath, and addressed his newfound ally.
“How are you such a coward?” he asked.
“ I’ve… always been this way,” Gunin replied, looking away ashamedly. “I’ve never had any talent for fighting.”
“Your clan just gave you those bloodline arts from an abundance of goodwill, did they?” Lagen spat. The kothi was lying. He had to be.
“No,” Gunin replied, refusing to meet his gaze. “They threw me out because I was not worthy of them.”
Lagen paused. Growing up in Chitran-controlled Garga, Lagen had seen the brutality their kind were capable of inflicting.
They disowned him just for that? Lagen almost spoke the words aloud, catching himself at the last moment. What did it matter that his enemy had led a difficult life? It changed nothing. It didn’t change the fact that his entire family was dead for no reason other than the Chitran’s selfish thirst for conquest.
It didn’t change what he needed to do now.
“We make a pretty good team, you know?” The insufferable kothi said, eyes still averted. Lagen almost wanted to grab his face and force the Chit to look him in the eyes—his behavior was insufferable.
“Team?” Lagen said. “We are no team.”
“No, we are,” Gunin replied, shaking his head. “My Warlord’s Battlecry emboldens your own Lionheart, magnifying your strength and making the enemy more susceptible to panic. Did you see how the beasts hesitated? If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say they were meant to work together!”
Lagen wanted nothing more to refute the little kothi, but something held his tongue.
“A-And my Warlord’s Domain,” Gunin continued, picking up steam. “It makes them move slower, and it makes you faster too! That makes their attacks weaker. And with your Braveheart doing the same, you’re several-fold stronger! It’s truly incredible!”
Gunin stopped abruptly, perhaps fearing he’d said too much.
Lagen said nothing, neither acknowledging nor refuting the kothi’s words. As much as it galled him, the Chitran’s bloodline arts had aided him in the battles until now. Though he’d never admit it, Lagen was unsure whether he would still be standing were it not for Gunin’s help.
Stolen story; please report.
Shrieks in the distance interrupted their conversation. Shrieks which could only mean one thing.
“Incredible enough to fight off those?” Lagen asked, pointing to the horde that had just appeared from the Ash Boundary.
Gunin gulped. “I suppose we shall find out.”
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It wasn’t long before Gunin, Lagen, and their Ash’va were surrounded. Defending themselves was tough enough, but protecting the vulnerable beasts of burden? That was a lost cause.
“Cut it loose!” Lagen commanded, arriving too late to save an Ash’va from the lethal fangs of an Ash Biter, jumping away just in time to avoid being swarmed by its allies.
The poor beast of burden whined in pain as it fell, swiftly disappearing under the countless Ash Biters who rushed to take bites out of its flesh.
Its sounds stilled soon after.
Lagen and Gunin herded the remaining beasts into a tight circle—packing them in as close as they possibly could. The Ash’va, while terrified, seemed to understand that they were safer obeying, and were being as brave as anyone could ask. The rest was up to the warriors.
Warrior, rather. While Gunin’s powers certainly augmented his allies and suppressed his enemies’ strength, it was only Lagen who was capable of putting down their foes. No matter how strong he was, Lagen lacked movement arts of any kind, meaning he could only be at one place at one time.
It didn’t take long for their enemy to realize this weakness. After that, it was simply a matter of delaying the inevitable.
“We’ll die here,” Gunin shouted in panic.
“And?” Lagen fired back as he blocked an incoming attack. “What would you have us do? Believe me, dying on a suicide mission for the Chitran was not how I intended to meet my end.”
Lagen wanted nothing more than to flee with his life. Attempting to, however, would only shorten his already limited lifespan. For it wasn’t merely a handful of beasts that surrounded them, but dozens, of all shapes and sizes. Some slow, and others more than capable of running him down.
No, this was where they met their end. And such a fitting end at that. Fighting fruitlessly at a barren, forgotten husk of a city against beasts who bore them no malice. Who were only searching for their next meal.
This was no glorious death in service to his clan. No, like the rest of his family, he would perish against overwhelming odds. Unable to make even the slightest difference. Forgotten by time and buried by ash.
Yet, his body soldiered on, even when he had long ago given up. His arms swung, his torso twisted, and his legs dodged. More out of habit than anything else. Delaying the inevitable.
Lagen didn’t believe in miracles. For the gods had blessed his lineage with none.
So when it arrived in the form of a black comet, hurtling from the sky, he refused to believe it.
He refused to believe it, even when it carved through the horde with impossible speed. He refused to believe that, in the span of just a few seconds, the sea of deadly monsters that surrounded them had themselves been offed by a monster far greater than themselves.
Lagen, however, could no longer refuse to believe when their salvation appeared in front of them, gazing at them with the eyes of a ruler.
“Sorry I’m late,” Neel said, setting a suit of plate metal on the ground. “I brought some armor.”
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Rounding up hundreds of suits of armor turned out to be simultaneously more and less effort than Vir had anticipated.
With the Praya Parul’s Ash Beasts eradicated, Vir felt safer bringing the Ash’va into the pit in the middle of the city, rather than leaving them out in the open where they could be attacked again. Lagen and Gunin had put up an impressive fight, but Vir was terrified at how close they’d come to succumbing.
Even a minute later, and Vir could very well have returned to corpses instead of allies. Powerful allies, judging from their performance.
Furthermore, ferrying suits of armor one by one was tedious and time-consuming, even with Leap and Blink, which would never have lasted long enough. Topped up though Vir was on prana, so many activations would’ve drained him dry well before he’d carried all the equipment.
Yet even with the Ash’va present, it took surprisingly more time than he’d anticipated to lash them to the beasts of burden, organizing them in the most efficient manner possible to allow them to carry everything back.
That task he left to Gunin and Lagen, who, despite looking like they absolutely loathed being in the same realm as each other, made a surprisingly efficient team. Vir suspected their recent near-death experience may have had something to do with that.
Roaming the now-empty pit, Vir searched for the best weapons and armor, evaluating both their construction quality and condition before bringing them back. Having lain out in the open for almost two decades, subjected to the elements and the trampling of Ash Beasts, less than a third remained usable. Even so, it would be an invaluable haul for his troops.
Picking proper armor, while important, was hardly an absorbing task, and so Vir’s mind wandered. To the pit nearby, whose deluge of prana had ceased the moment Vir had been returned to his body. It was as if all that prana had been for one purpose—to show him the memory of Janak. Clearly, it’d been compromised over the ages, showing only bits and pieces.
The map crumpled in Vir’s pocket told him he’d obtained some very important pieces, however. Where it led and what it meant, he didn’t know. Not yet. But he’d find out.
As he worked, the voice of worry grew stronger. What were the chances of him stumbling upon these ruins? What were the chances that the first chamber he found conveniently only required the Foundation Chakra to open? Were they all like that? Or did they require more chakras?
Discovering this place had been an incredible coincidence. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t a coincidence at all. If someone had guided him to this place…
But who? And for what purpose? Could it have been Janak’s avatar, somehow? Vir doubted it. Janak had remained silent even when Vir visited Mahādi—the very place Janak had told him to venture to when he was ready.
Either Janak had no intention of communicating with Vir, or he was physically unable to.
Vir thought back to the illusion chamber he’d encountered in the Ash, and the strange tree-like room he’d been deposited to after. To Saunak’s Ink of Clarity.
And what was the purpose of those Primordial Chambers? Yes, Vir had benefited from the monstrous influx of prana, expanding his capacity, but that felt more like an accident than anything intentional. Were they all connected somehow?
It felt like with every bit of the mystery Vir uncovered, his confusion only grew, spawning more questions than they answered.
Alas, there were no more questions to be had here. Vir had tried returning to the chamber at the bottom of the pit, but found its door inert. Dead. Though he had no issues using Dance of the Shadow Demon to appear on the other side of the door, it led only to a featureless rectangular chamber. The one where he’d presumably been shown the vision. Finding nothing else of note there, Vir had returned to the surface.
“We’re just about ready,” Lagen said in a voice that was slightly different from before. Stiffer. More deferential. It was a slight thing, and Vir might’ve missed it had he not been trained to recognize such things.
“The tools as well?” Vir asked.
“All secured, though we’re not quite sure what you plan to use them for. Shovels, pickaxes… You planning on having us dig?”
Vir gave them a mysterious smile as he surveyed their handiwork. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
The gear would prove useful. The trust he’d build with Lagen and Gunin, however? That was priceless.
As Vir set out for his camp of demons, he couldn’t help but feel rather high-spirited about their situation.