Date: Year 23,000, month 1 day 4

Two days later, a convoy of chariots traversed toward the Forest of Death. The chariot trailers slithered like serpents in the sky, swaying from left to right, pulled by a second realm horse.

The elongated chariot, resembling a bus with multiple doors, was guided by a charioteer. With short black hair, grey eyes, and a strong jawline, Aaron Bryce—a man deemed handsome—graced the chariot. His smile possessed the power to captivate any princess's heart and reduce queens to their knees. Aaron was Luther's brother.

Within a section of the chariot, filled with gold and lavish furniture, two boys and a girl engaged in conversation. One boy, Joseph Fave, clad in opulent attire, boasted a muscular build and dark eyes. He hailed from the affluent House of Fave, a royal lineage.

"Elijah, word is we're headed to the Forest of the Zora to meet our instructor. Any guesses on who it might be?" Joseph inquired eagerly.

"I've heard it's Luther from my sister. I don't know much about him, except that he's formidable—a lethal force, according to my sister, who's in the same year as him," replied Elijah, seated across Joseph, engrossed in a book. Elijah belonged to the House of Gavin, blessed uniquely with the element of fire and adorned with red hair.

"Do you have any insight, Luna?" Joseph asked, brimming with excitement.

"All I know is that he aims to make us stronger and something about a forthcoming tournament," Luna responded absentmindedly, lost in her thoughts. Luna, hailing from the House of Neptune known for their ruthless nature, possessed long, sleek black hair, red lips, and piercing yellow eyes—a visage befitting royalty.

In another part of the chariot, amid a section littered with broken chairs, four students played cards on the floor while two conversed about their hometown. One student stood out, drenched.

"Two hundred and one, two hundred and two, two hundred and three... ah, almost got to two hundred and four," uttered Clark wearily, hearing the charioteer's voice outside. Muscular and well-groomed, despite his 5.6-foot stature, Clark exuded a sense of justice.

"We've arrived. Please disembark and greet your instructor, Senior Luther. Then retrieve your belongings and set up camp for the night," the charioteer announced for the Beast Sect members.

"Good afternoon, Senior Seth!" the collective greeting echoed as they stood before Luther. Hundreds of students scrutinized him, noticing his clean military attire and striking red eyes—some found them beautiful, while others understood their ominous significance, evoking fear.

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"Hello," replied Seth wearily, his exhaustion evident. He detested crowds and could discern that many among them had never spilled human blood.

Suddenly, a palpable bloodlust permeated the air. Half the students collapsed, the rest gasped for air, knees buckling. It emanated from Luther. To the students, it seemed a demonic presence surrounded them, drowning in a crimson tide with monstrous apparitions creeping closer, immobilizing them in a pool of blood.

This was a bloodlust—a method of projecting spiritual energy to induce hallucinations, creating an illusion of blood and death. It could debilitate cultivators, crushing their will to practice.

"Stop it!" thundered Aaron, his voice resonating like a tempest, breaking through Luther's bloodlust. "What are you doing?" Aaron demanded, seething with anger.

"If you've fallen, return to the chariot; your other senior will attend to you," Seth calmly instructed, unperturbed by Aaron's intervention. In a heartbeat, Luther unsheathed his sword, confronting Aaron. Luther had found someone worthy of his frustration, a challenger upon whom to unleash his boiling rage.

Without a chance to retreat to their chariot, Luther unsheathed his sword and materialized before Aaron. Luther had finally encountered someone who could match his frustration, someone on whom he could unleash his boiling anger.

Bang!

Their swords clashed, generating a shockwave that fractured the ground and rent the air. Aaron swiftly drew a blue sword, uniquely adorned with a dragon engraving that emitted a radiant glow. He smiled as he deflected Luther's attacks, channelling his mana into the sword, summoning crackling lightning that surged toward Luther, momentarily paralyzing him. Aaron disengaged, offering a taunting remark, "How are you, brother?"

Aaron's question masked his true intent—to assess the situation. His concern was for the children, thrown around yet thankfully unharmed. He couldn't ignore their significance as the future. Aaron wasn't as callous and heartless despite his connection to his cursed brother.

"Those red eyes... the eyes of the devil," Aaron thought to himself.

"I'm relieved you're here; otherwise, I might have lost my mind," Luther admitted, twitching and engulfed in lightning.

With Luther's few words, Aaron comprehended the situation—Luther had recently been released from prison.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Aaron replied, attempting to placate his brother. He understood Luther's torment and feared the potential loss of countless lives due to it.

The shockwave from their clash continued to rupture the sky and ground, uprooting trees in the forest. If not for Clive's quick thinking, many members of the Beast Sect would have met a premature end.

Clive's Perspective:

It happened so suddenly—Luther's attack on Aaron. I reacted instinctively, protecting the students with my wind mana; otherwise, they might not have survived.

In a rush, I projected my mana outward from my core, shielding the students in time.

Chaos engulfed us— the students screamed out in pain, and many ended with sprain injuries. Luther's eyes filled with anger and hatred. From yesterday, Luther seemed to be ready to end me and David, for reasons unknown and I didn't wanted to ask.

Amidst the chaos, I heard more cries—multiple voices in distress. Strengthening my wind element, I exerted my essence outward from my heart, attempting to alleviate their suffering. Healing at such a wide scale wasn't my forte; managing multiple types of energy simultaneously strained my body.

My attention was drawn to Luther and Aaron's conversation, it became evident that Luther wasn't in the best mental state, and Aaron harboured regrets. And my desire to depart intensified.

"What are the elders thinking? Are they insane?" I ruminated. The elders didn’t operate with care for anyone, other than their family, they were just some old bones that needed to retire.

"Where's David?" I called out.

"I'm here," he replied aloud, oblivious to the severity of the situation, munching on a bag of chips, fixated on the battle.

"Selfish bastard... he could at least share," I fumed inwardly, frustrated by how I am surrounded by idiots.