Elemental Castigation was unleashed on another of the two remaining Divine Faction leaders, killing him instantly. Jiran’s aura was spread wide and he easily caught the concerned whispers of the leaders of the neutral clan heads.

“He killed them so easily, are we next?”

“We must ascertain his intentions before he finishes the last and turns his gaze on us.”

The elder from the neutral faction who spoke out before shouted, “You would dare to make an enemy of us all?!” His terror was evident in his wildly bucking mana.

Jiran pierced him with a cold glare as he pointed toward Keara and her brother who was coming to, “I've proven I’m not here to make enemies. Some of you have already crossed my bottom line and I don’t have time to find out who’s redeemable and who isn’t. Those who are innocent should step aside and once this is over, I’ll help you ascend.”

The last leader of the Divine Faction had not been idle while Jiran killed his allies. His aura was concentrated beneath his wings and flushed with the aspect of wind. A single flap created a rampaging gust that sent him hurtling out of the encirclement. Jiran crouched, ready to give chase as immense winds buffeted his armor.

The neutral speaker leaped to interpose himself and threw his arms wide, “U-unacceptable! If we allow you to do this now, you will only grow more powerful and abuse us further in the future. We are the Forkara, and we will not be your slaves!”

He’s really just spouting any nonsense he can think of.

“Who’s more reliable: The guy cleaning up the murderous scum, or the murderous scum? Say whatever you want, I’ve yet to lie and I’ll continue to prove my intentions are sincere.”

Dokkuun clapped his hands, gathering everyone’s attention, “Well spoken, Senior Brother Guardian. Ignore the words of this filth who is only concerned for his own neck. Fellow elders, do not be dragged into death by Prekkahn’s deceptions. Senior Brother Guardian has kept his every word, and until that changes, facing him also means facing the Rising Sky Faction.”

“Kraah!” Dokkuun’s brothers pitched in with a loud cry that created a sweeping shockwave. The four of them brandished their weapons which were rapidly filled with their aspects. Prekkahn turned white as a sheet, his trembling no longer restricted to just his mana.

Jiran didn’t waste the distraction; compressed and cooled gasses ignited beneath his feet, shaped with his aura, the force of propulsion was enough to make his vision darken. He stretched his aura ahead of him in the shape of a gigantic hand that clutched at the framework to pull him forward. His mana was converted with Elemental Castigation and well before he caught the fleeing Forkara, he unleashed several beams of incinerating energy, reducing him to less than dust.

He returned to find the expected faceoff between Dokkuun and the neutral elders. They looked at him warily, sweat running down their faces as they clutched the hilts of their sheathed weapons. Jiran examined them one by one, finding only the one who had spoken against him—Prekkahn—and the two beside him, had an affinity rating of Malice while the rest were at either Scorn or Wary.

How do I kill those three without turning them all against me?

Before Jiran could come up with a plan, Keara and her now conscious brother approached and bowed awkwardly, each doing their best to not agitate their severe injuries. The brother spoke, his voice course and sharp, “This one is named Keeon. I thank you for sparing me and cutting the head from the Divine Faction. I will not rest until its heart has been cleansed as well. Our Father gave special attention to those who were the most cruel and vicious, raising them to high positions. We will right his wrongs, or die. I swear it.”

He certainly sounds sincere and his affinity is already Indifferent. The sister must have filled him in while I was killing that last bug.

Jiran chuckled, and not wanting his reaction to be misunderstood, he responded quickly, “You think I would stand by while you two enter into a den of monsters in your condition?” He flew closer and placed his hand on Keara’s shoulder. Mana Confluence and his aura swept through her body, mapping out every minute detail of her remaining arm and injuries. Before the watching elders’ eyes, two new limbs grew to replace what had been taken by the Rapacious Murker. She clenched her teeth through the pain of rapid regeneration. Four seconds later, she was whole, though breathing heavily to recover her senses. Moving to Keeon, he repeated the healing, though with more mana wasted as his injuries were much more severe.

Jiran held his hand out to Dokkuun, “Toss me those weapons I made you.” The four complied and he caught the long daggers. Reforming graphene was mana-intensive and he had already used all the mana from killing the last elder to heal the twins. Not wanting to dip into his own mana supply, Jiran pulled half of the mana stored in his armor.

“You both use spears, right? Is that your weapon of choice?”

“Y-yes Senior Brother Guardian,” Keeon responded breathlessly, admiration and thankfulness filling his gaze and Jiran noted his affinity had risen to Trusting as well.

Mana Confluence broke down the daggers into their base materials before reforming them into two spears similar to the ones he had made for the Timberlings except for two key differences: The graphene coating on the spearhead was thin and blunt enough that it wouldn’t be able to pierce his armor and instead of having an ice formation, it contained a fire formation.

Once done, he tossed one to each of them. Pointing to Keara, he spoke in an encouraging tone, “Inject your mana into the shaft and it will power the formation in the spearhead. Once it's full, your next thrust will unleash a bit of fire: Try it.”

At Jiran’s urging, she hesitantly used the little mana he had given her to power the formation. When she stabbed the spear, a cone of raging flames gushed forward, devouring the air with a tremendous roar. The wall of flames extended for nearly a kilometer before the mana powering the formation was spent.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

During her demonstration, Jiran carefully examined the expressions of the elders, finding a mix of passionate greed and fear. He spread his aura thinly around them, easily picking up their hushed conversations.

“To create such a thing so casually, no wonder the Divine Faction was helpless.”

“That little girl is undeserving of such a mighty weapon, we must take it from her.”

“Agreed. Let them return to their clan. We will strike when they are occupied with consolidating their forces. His grudge with the Storm Claw may be settled, but mine has only just begun!”

Having heard enough, Jiran clapped his gloved hands, gathering their attention back to himself, “I purposefully made that spear flawed. It’s incapable of piercing my armor and the fire formation it uses has been weakened,” The elders began to whisper amongst themselves again so Jiran raised his voice, cutting them off with a harsh tone, “And don’t forget, I made that weapon for them, personally. If I find them in anyone else’s possession, they can consider that a death sentence.”

Prekkahn flapped his wings, creating a powerful and attention-grabbing gust of wind, “How dare you threaten us again after we let you do as you please! Brothers and Sisters, you’ve seen what he’s capable of. If we don’t take this chance to remove him now, he’ll grow into a new Storm Lord and devour us one by one until our clans are nothing but his playthings.”

By all means, please keep digging your own grave, idiot.

Ignoring his blathering, Jiran continued to speak, “These are my terms: Those who agree will receive multiple sets of similar weapons and armor as well as detailed information on how to safely hunt in the Land of the Lost as well as my personal protection while hunting. In return, you will swear to become allies with the Timberlings, which include terms for trade determined at a future date. This alliance will remain in effect for one hundred years. You will also lend me sixty percent of your combat-ready forces for two weeks.” Shocked murmurs broke out between the elders; Dokkuun and his brothers were no exception.

Jiran struck while the iron was hot, “Also, those three seem to have an unwavering grudge against me which I assume is related to their past treatment of the Timberlings. Since that’s the case, they’ll have to die.”

“What if we refuse?” A woman with sharp features standing at the front of the neutral elders asked.

“Then the Rising Sky Faction alone will have four tier eights along with the weapons created by me. I don’t have any desire to take over your people, so I certainly won’t be telling them what to do at that point…”

Go ahead, stay neutral and be devoured by Dokkuun in the future.

“Shameless!” Prekkahn sputtered, his face dark with rage.

Booming laughter interrupted their conversation as a figure in finely decorated armor descended from the clouds, not stopping until he hovered between Jiran and the elders. His wings were cool gray and a mask covered half of his face but the jagged edges of severe scars crept out beneath the dark porcelain, hinting at a disfigured appearance. He moved with casual grace and his aura was much larger than any of the others, though not as potent as Jiran’s. At his waist hung three swords of varying lengths and there was nothing about his proud, confident demeanor that suggested he couldn’t cut them all down in seconds.

That new sense didn’t detect him at all. Well, it probably did but I’m just not proficient with it yet. Wait… what's with his mana?!

image [https://i.imgur.com/p3o8eqG.jpg]

The moment Mana Omnis and Identify swept across the man, sweat broke out across Jiran’s back. Not only was this newcommer’s aura much larger but the quantity and quality of his mana was fifty percent higher as well. Jiran was frozen with shock, staring at the message in his interface which clearly marked him as a tier seven. Thankfully, his affinity was at Wary and he didn’t appear to be eager to start a fight.

Every single Forkara bowed to the masked man while uttering a simple yet respectful greeting, “Eldest Unspeakable.”

Shit, shit, shit. Is he a challenger? If so, he’s three tiers above me and strong enough to pass an arena. He’s probably been watching for a while, so he has some idea of my strength and fighting style while I know nothing about his. My aura is more potent than his and my armor should be able to block a few attacks, but is that enough? The regular tier seven Forkara are already fast, I might not be able to hit him with anything short of my gravity bombs which take several seconds to create.

Mana Omnis had no difficulty seeing through the Forkara’s mask, revealing malignant, crimson warped skin around one of his eyes. The other was made of pure mana that flickered in time with the beating of his heart. Their gazes were locked on each other, neither making any sudden movements.

His laughter died off into throaty chuckles before he finally spoke, “Greetings, little stranger. Don’t you think you’ve bullied my juniors enough?”

Should I try to form a gravity bomb inside my armor just in case? What if his strange eye can see mana? He’s willing to talk, I shouldn’t make the first move. If I’m found out, it will ruin all of my plans with the elders.

Jiran chose his words carefully, “Unfortunately, no. I have a method to determine if others are trustworthy and those three will absolutely attack me the second they think they have an advantage. I have to leave your lands soon. I can’t afford to allow anyone who might slaughter the Timberlings to remain alive.”

“I see, I see,” Craning his neck, he looked over his shoulder at Prekkahn and his two lackeys who looked much more nervous than Jiran felt, “Is that true, little birds? Is your grudge with this stranger already so deep that it can’t be reconciled?” His tone was light and carefree but it still made Jiran’s skin crawl.

Prekkahn recoiled as though he’d been struck, “O-of course not, Eldest Unspeakable. Since when has such a grudge ever existed within the hearts of the Inseparable Divide Between Dawn and Dusk Clan? Surely, whatever disagreement exists between us can be resolved with diligence and care.”

Jiran noticed Prekkahn’s mana spinning and dancing in a discordant rhythm with his heartbeat: His lie couldn’t have been more obvious.

Eldest Unspeakable turned to Jiran once more and Prekkahn’s eyes flashed with a victorious light, though he was careful to keep a mask of fear and respect on his face. Jiran clenched his teeth, knowing there was nothing more he could do now that the balance of power had been shifted away from him.

“There you have it, little stranger,” The eye of flickering mana hidden by his mask moved independently, locking on Keara for the briefest of moments. Before Jiran could perceive any other movement, her newly made spear was in Eldest Unspeakable’s hand.

Some kind of forced teleportation tied to his eye? Dokkuun told me they couldn’t teleport so it’s either one of the benefits from the arena or an acclamation he gained that helped him survive the arena in the first place. And there’s no guarantee that’s the only thing it can do, either.

As Eldest Unspeakable examined the weapon, Jiran’s aura locked down the framework around and inside him so he couldn’t be instantly pulled into the Forkara’s grip. Eldest pricked his finger on the tip of the spearhead, drawing the faintest trickle of blood. He nodded appreciatively and his mouth curled up in a smile, “What a fascinating skill. To create such a fine weapon so quickly, and you mentioned it was flawed? Truly fascinating. Very well, we can accept your other terms if you supply us with two million spears, and two million pieces of armor capable of resisting them.”

What?!