Novels2Search

Chapter 30: The Embers of War

Chapter 30: The Embers of War

Master Omar communicated with Patriarch Hamid about the Northerners' location as suggested by his uncle. He was advised to follow River Tigresi towards the Rank 2 formation area. The party moved slowly with no urgency ensuring that they were not followed. Taking precautions was necessary as their duty required stealth and subterfuge. They needed to spirit the younglings without drawing any attention to their activities.

As they went deeper into the forest, Master Omar contemplated how he would approach his duty arguing with his uncle based on different scenarios. They discussed possibilities ranging from the kids refusing to go North to separating them and taking only Uzman with them. One of the reasons that Arif was a successful trainer was his patience and ability to make warriors think-

“Everybody Stop!” Master Omar shouted, raising his hand.

As a cultivator of the Mind Realm, his senses were more developed and he could passively monitor his surroundings. As an air cultivator, he could use his affinity to hear further than warriors on other paths.

“I hear screaming, follow me, and let us hope we are not too late.”

And then he simply vanished! A mind-rank cultivator could use their affinity to travel quickly from one place to another.

Master Omar arrived at the training camp and almost gagged from the screams, blood, and gore. Fatima was lying on the ground, unconscious. Kenzo and Jurdur were tied back to back while the soldiers were playing target practice with knives, arrows, and maces. The two were unrecognizable from their mangled bodies. Somehow, they were still clinging to life.

Omar unleashed a flurry of targeted wind blades beheading the 10 soldiers who stood rooted; shocked at his abrupt appearance. They stood no chance against a cultivator of the Mind Realm. Those who reacted quickly created pitiful shields that failed to stop the blades. The fight was over before it had begun. In hindsight, Omar wished he had incapacitated them. They had not deserved such a quick death. He untied Jurdur and Uzman and laid them down next to Fatima.

After a few minutes, the rest of his party arrived. Luckily, it was clan practice to travel in teams that included a healer. One member of the party, Aisha, was a strong elemental cultivator from the Sting Ray clan. She was an experienced water cultivator with a passive earth affinity that had enabled her to be apprenticed to Master Aleena to train in healing.

Aisha furiously used salves and tourniquets to stop bleeding, her hands were red with blood as she struggled to save the lives of the kids. she used healing potions, and elixirs pouring them down the throats of the injured parties. she succeeded largely. Tears fell down her cheeks as she pumped Fatima's heart trying to restart it. The clearing was deathly quiet as Aisha recognized an inescapable truth. Fatima was dead.

Aisha was one of the best healers in the Clans and her skills were frequently compared to those of Master Aleena. It was due to her skills that they were able to save Jurdur and Kenzo. However, Fatima had lost too much blood and the added trauma of torture had taken a toll on her body.

Jurdur was the first to regain his consciousness.

“No more, we will hunt you to the end of the world,” He screamed incoherently.

“Peace, you are safe, you are safe,” Aisha said in a soothing voice while Arif held him still.

Jurdur open his eyes and looked at his rescuers. Unseeing. He was too shocked to immediately recognize his clansmen. He blinked several times and focused.

“Arif? Is it really you?” he questioned, disbelieving his eyes. He thought he must be hallucinating or a prank by the Imperial soldiers to continue torturing him.

“Yes, we arrived just in time to save you. Healer Aisha has been fighting to save your lives.” Arif answered.

As if remembering something, Jurdur shot up into a sitting position.

“They took him. They took him and we did nothing. Too weak; Too weak to do anything. Could do nothing, did nothing,” He rambled on and on. It was apparent that the ordeal had scarred him mentally.

“Take your time, you have undergone a very traumatic event. Don’t talk. First, take several deep breaths,” Arif comforted Jurdur trying to get him calm.

Jurdur took some time before calming down enough to be coherent.

“Start at the beginning to make it easier to process,” Master Omar ordered.

Aisha had produced a healing tea with calming properties from her storage device. Jurdur was sipping on the tea while narrating their ordeal.

“They caught us in the forest where we were foraging. Uzman had been left at this camp alone to train.”

“Why were you not together? Omar inquired.

Arif touched him lightly on the arm in a signal to tone down. As the lead trainer of younglings in the Clans, he was more experienced in dealing with people who had undergone traumatic experiences.

“What happened when they accosted you?” Arif asked, taking over the questioning.

“They started torturing us in the forest asking where Uzman was. We had promised to stand with him, and we betrayed him,”

“Don’t dwell on it. Everyman talks, if the torturer is experienced. Nobody in the Clans would fault you,” Arif commiserated with Jurdur.

“Kenzo managed to escape and ran to warn Uzman. However, it was a ploy designed to lead them to the camp. Once at the camp, they tortured him by burying him in the sand and then started cutting Fatima. It was then he agreed to go with them. They then left these soldiers to torture and kill us.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

“No question we have to try and get him back. How many were they and which direction did they follow?” Master Omar asked.

“I did not see the direction they followed, but they were around 100 soldiers. I am not sure, but I think their leader was at the elemental level,” Jurdur answered looking at Master Omar with eyes full of hope.

Theoretically, Master Omar could handle multiple fighters of the elemental level. However, he had already broken the unstated rule of cultivators: That the strong fought the strong so that the young can grow. Technically, he could justify his actions as none of the Northerners were at the elemental manipulation level but were being attacked by stronger cultivators.

After Conferring with Arif, Master Omar stood up and flew away. As a Master of air, he could use his affinity to move quickly or fly using air currents for propulsion. He needed to scout the area and find their True Descendant. No one would stand in his way; least of all, not an unstated rule of honor, not to fight those weaker than himself.

*****************************************************************

Centurion Praximus rolled smoothly rising to his feet. His face livid in anger and confusion. He had been on the verge of completing his mission. The young man neutralized, and the northern barbarians dealt a blow that would have stoked the embers of war. He knew that portal stones existed, but he had never seen one in use. Most strong cultivators at the mastery level just used their affinities for movement.

This had been his one chance to redeem himself. His master was not a patient man. The Prince would not take this loss well, and would take it from his hide; literary and figuratively. His only chance was to take the three young Northerners to him. He knew how he liked to play with younglings. He should know; he was young once.

“Let us go back for the Northerners and hope they are not dead. The wind wolves as quick as you can,” Centurion Praximus ordered. As an experienced officer, he had learned to compartmentalize his feelings and continue making rational decisions. This skill saved his life on many occasions. Dealing with a mercurial master such as Prince Zaibatsu required him to be in complete control of his feelings. He needed to secure the Northerners for interrogation. He would figure out the rest and hope that he escaped this fiasco with his life.

*******************************************************************

Master Omar flew quickly starting with small circles around the camp which widened moving south. He knew that the imperial soldiers would be taking his charge to Silicia with the hope of converting him or killing him if that failed. Just less than a mile out he espied the soldiers. In front of them a team of 20 cultivators were running quickly towards the camp.

Omar enhanced his hearing senses using air current threads to eavesdrop. This was another advantage of being an air cultivator. He listened keenly for a few minutes. The gist of their conversation was that they had lost the boy and needed to hurry and secure the ‘barbarian kids’.

It still rankled Master Omar to be referred to as a barbarian. "Didn’t they know that the North had been the center of culture and development? Still, this was a fortuitous outcome," He mused and hurried back to the training camp.

“Listen up. The soldiers are coming back, we need to prepare a welcome committee,” Master Omar said as he landed smoothly like a perching raven.

The expression of the Northerners hardened as they moved to conceal themselves and hide the bodies. They worked like a well-oiled machine due to their time together. They would be outnumbered severely, but their faces were stoic with determination. No one messed with a Northerner. There would be hell to pay.

The soldiers burst into the training camp, oblivious to the danger they were walking into. Before they could react to the empty camp, they were assailed by powerful elemental techniques from the Northerners. Only two soldiers were left alive for interrogation. The interrogation had to be quick before the remainder of the company of imperial soldiers arrived.

“I do not want to hurt you, despite how much you deserve it. I promise you a quick death if you answer my questions truthfully,” thundered Master Omar. His words were muzzled by the sound barrier he created to ensure that the conversation could not be heard beyond the camp.

“Who ordered you to take the boy, where is he, and what are your orders?”

The two soldiers who had been forced to their knees stared at Omar defiantly.

“The Imperialty will not stand for this. You barbarians will be hunted to extinction. Just wait until our company arrives here. You will wish you had never crossed the inquisitors.” One of the soldiers stated haughtily.

“So this is how you want it: Your choice,” Master Omar created a wind blade and bisected the arm of the soldier who had spoken in two. The blade cut through bone and sinew. The soldier screamed shrilly staring at the bone marrow that was dripping from his arm.

“It was Centurion Praximus, He was ordered by Prince Zaibatsu to secure a portal mage by the name of Uzman. He made us do it.” It seemed the brutal display of power had been enough incentive. Even defiance and courage softened at the sight of dripping marrow and gore.

“I swear on my soul that we don’t have him. He was swallowed by a rift,” the soldier blabbered as Omar raised his hand in a threatening gesture.

Just before Master Omar could continue the interrogation, more soldiers burst into the clearing led by Centurion Praximus.

“Just the man I was waiting for. Are you by any chance Centurion Praximus?” Master Omar asked taking the initiative.

The Centurion looked around the clearing and saw his dead soldiers. The decapitated heads, and gore around the camp. He had been a party to many similar outcomes when he had ‘cleansed’ entire villages that had been charged with sedition. However, his team had never been on the receiving end of violence.

“Hold, I believe we can talk about this,” he reacted quickly recognizing the power of the cultivator in front of him.

“Did you give my clansmen the same courtesy, or you just tortured them to have fun?” Master Omar asked his voice rising in anger.

The Northerners were outnumbered more than 10 to 1. However, they were not scared. What mattered to cultivators was the individual strength of warriors rather than the numbers. In this case, Master Omar could take the entire company of Inquisitors on his own.

Only Praximus and four of his soldiers were at the elemental manipulation level. The rest were still at the tempering stage.

”Since you want to talk, tell me why you needed the boy and what happened to him?”

“I was ordered by Prince Zaibatsu and Archduke Mindila to secure him for the empire once it was known that he was a portal mage. As to what happened to him, he jumped into a rift after killing one of my soldiers,”

“He managed to kill one of you, good for him,” Interjected Jurdur staring daggers at Centurion Praximus. “You tortured and killed my friend” Only the restraining hand of Aisha was keeping Jurdur from attacking.

“It was not personal, it was business. I was just following orders. Your quarrel should be with Silicia and not us,” answered Praximus meekly. his earlier bravado had evaporated.

“Oh, ok. It was business, you said. In the same vein, don’t hold this against us. This is business too. Not personal,” Master Omar said.

“By the power vested in me by the Warriors Council, I find you guilty of unprovoked murder and torture. I hereby sentence you to death. Kill them all,” declared Omar.

Pandemonium broke out at this pronouncement as the soldiers tried to escape. Master Omar targeted the elemental rank warriors while his team attacked the other soldiers. Within a few minutes, all was quiet. The clearing was awash with blood that trickled into River Tigresi turning the water red.

“Take their belongings, and burn their bodies. We return north immediately,” Master Omar ordered.