“Look out, Patriarch!”
An explosion of stars from his allies erupted next to Myron, blocking several arrows and a dagger of shadows. A vine of some kind whipped out, and Myron grimaced as he stirred his Qi and blocked the blow with his empowered fist and forearm.
They had been making good time toward the cave, and it was not far in the distance. In just a few minutes, odds were, the demon reptiles would have begun hunting his people.
Two men walked out of the treeline in front of them, their power placing them far higher than Myron was comfortable with facing. The first man was the hunter that had been giving them so much trouble, a man at the peak of the Second Stratum. But the other man was firmly in the Third Stratum, having a mastery of the Dao that nearly rivaled Myron’s.
Numerous bandits and mercenaries came out of the woods at their sides, covered in shadows. The man known as Elrash was covering them in it, allowing his men to sneak up on Myron’s people.
Now that they were stopped, numerous horns were blown, and the armies nearby started to converge. Myron’s people were surrounded, and without a way forward.
The first man that must be Elrash, the panther beastfolk with dark skin, chuckled. “Not bad, they blocked the ambush. You purple people sure have given us a hard time, but you will go no further. What were you going to do here, anyway? Was your plan to fight all the way here, to feed yourselves to some demon reptiles?”
The other man had to be Thresh, based on their reports. He was a large man, his flesh barklike and green. The man grinned. “Truly tenacious, to force me to come all the way out here. To think so many of you were at the Third or Fourth stratum, but you were brought low to this. You Outlanders sure got unlucky.”
Myron sighed. “Why must you antagonize us? From the beginning, we were never the aggressors. We couldn’t control where we appeared on this world, and have always meant to leave your lands.”
Elrash shrugged. “You Outlanders have something our boss wants. We’re to capture you all and bring you back.”
Myron frowned. “What is it that he wants? If it’s merely our possessions, we are happy to make a deal for passage.”
Thresh shook his head. “Doesn’t work like that. You were in our Boss’s land. That means all is his. Besides, he knows you Outlanders have knowledge far beyond our own, allowing you to hide the importance of what you have. He wants it all–your knowledge and your treasure.” He laughed. “Plus, your people are very exotic, highly desired on this Shard. We are to collect you and then allow him to sort out what he wants from you and your people. Your women are a bit spunky, but I’m sure they can be tamed. Surrender, and we just might go a little easier on them.”
Elrash joined him in laughter, but suddenly, a strange ring of light passed through the mountains, coming from their destination. It passed through so quickly that Myron didn’t have much chance to dodge or even stir his Qi, but he hadn’t sensed any danger. It moved as fast as light itself.
The light passed through Myron’s people and the enemy army, doing nothing that Myron could note.
“What the hell was that,” Elrash frowned, looking in the direction of the cave.
Thresh frowned, and shrugged. “Maybe a Path building did something? Some can scan the surroundings for resources, though reaching this far… Well, it doesn’t matter. These purple people are going to be Blackthorne’s, even if someone else gets a show of it.” He laughed.
Myron’s hands tightened, his knuckles going white as he saw these two men laughing over their predicament, along with the greed present on their faces.
“You will find us no easy marks. You may have us outnumbered, but you have failed to kill us despite your many advantages in this strange land. We will not surrender, and mark my words: you will pay dearly for your greed.”
Suddenly, this Elrash gasped, freezing in place. “No! Impossible!”
Thresh frowned, looking alert and expanding his magical senses, from what Myron could feel. “What? He didn’t do anything.”
“No. It’s Shadowvale. It’s…under Conflict!”
Thresh turned to Elrash. “What–How? Mayor Nelson?”
“No, Mayor Nelson should be dead. That means…it truly must be Havendale–I mean, Frosthaven now. It says…it’s an Inquisition of Seraphara?”
Thresh looked at him with doubt. “The nuns? Do you think they’re that dumb? He’s supposed to have the Altar of Subordination completed soon, or face Blackthorne’s wrath.”
Suddenly, a strange light appeared in front of Myron causing him to blanch and stir his Qi. An attack–how? He felt no movement of Qi, until it was just…there. Much like the pulse, before.
But nothing happened. A tablet with small text on it was merely in front of him. Waiting.
[Offering: Trial between the Star Oni and Blackthorne’s Dark Empire of the North.
Blackthorne’s Dark Empire has gone far too long without a Trial or Tribulation, gaming the system and never properly Testing themselves.
You have proven to be a true leader, a man willing to sacrifice his everything for his people. Orion respects your talents and conviction as a leader, and would like to offer you and your people an opportunity: To Test the people of Orion so that they may become more. Should you choose to accept, your people will face a difficult challenge following the rules set out by Orion. As of now, despite your efforts, the chances of your people’s survival are nearly nonexistent. But if you accept, you will be given a viable chance against the enemies arrayed in front of you, relative to your forces. If you succeed, your people will be rewarded. If you fail, your people’s suffering will be Ordained by Orion.
* A third party, an individual whose goal will be to help your people, along with monsters who are very interested in eating you as much as your enemies, will join this battle. The challenge will be balanced in accordance to Test and involve this individual.
* You and your people will have some or most of their strength restored, limited to the duration of the Trial.
Yes or No? Affirm your selection.]
Elrash looked over at Myron in confusion, and pointed. “What’s that? Orion is talking to the Outlanders?
Thresh turned, and shouted in alarm, “No! Don’t let him!” and leaped into the air towards Myron, the claws on his hands growing like branches of a tree.
Myron had read it all, and was going to accept already. But seeing that his enemies didn’t want him to, that made him want to press it a hundred times over–until his fingers bled. He kind of hated this Orion, from how it limited his people and obscured the stars, but he’d gladly become its servant for a short time just to make these horrible people suffer and give him a small chance at freedom.
Perhaps, this was the Way he divined. But why only here, of all places?
His finger touched Yes on the tablet just before Thresh could reach him, and a golden light spread across the world around them in an instant, like an explosion, as everything came to a stop.
Then, people, monsters, and even some of the terrain started to rearrange, everything moving nearly instantly as if being rearranged by someone moving them from one place to another sequentially, like moving pieces on a board.
Myron’s eyes started to widen in shock as he understood the implications of what was happening. This entity had control over space, time, and more within its domain. It was only his Nascent Soul’s strength that allowed him to bear witness to the changes at all, but they happened so quickly he could barely track them all.
They were now in a clearing, closer to the cave. His people were somewhat scattered around him, many out of shouting distance in different areas of the jungle. Strangely, his daughter had been separated even further from him than she was previously, placed closer to the enemy army off to the side.
The enemy’s one thousand troops were scattered mostly between them and the cave, with Thresh and Elrash set in front of Myron nearby. It seemed the leaders were separated from the armies, at least for the moment.
The devilsaurs were also placed throughout the battlefield, but set a distance away from where any of his people would fight. He imagined the idea, if there was one, was that the two groups fighting would be flanked by demons that wanted to kill either group, giving no real advantage to either party.
Larger groups of those devilsaurs were placed a distance away in various locations, and thankfully, the Devilsaur Matriarch was placed several miles out. It would take her some time to join the battlefield, even if she began to charge at full speed the moment the battle began. If these bandits weren’t getting in the way, Myron’s people could just rush for the cave and they’d never even see it.
A dome of golden light rose up around the battlefield, and now, all of his people received a prompt in front of them, much like the one he had already received.
[Your leader accepted the Trial: Fate of the Star Oni, on your behalf. Limits on your powers up to the peak of the second stratum have been removed, and your leader has had his limits removed to face the enemy leader. Fight for your lives against the forces of Blackthorne, and escape from the Devilsaurs by entering the cave in the East.
A third party, a singular entrant near the peak of the second stratum, has joined to aid you (pictured). Their influence on this battle can be the difference between your people’s victory and defeat. If he wins his duel, he may assist you in your battle, and conversely, if he loses, Elrash may join against you.
For either party to win, defeat the leader of the enemy faction: Thresh, in your case, and Myron, in theirs, and defeat the Devilsaur Matriarch and its numerous young, or flee into the cave. The Trial will be considered complete when the enemy leader has been defeated, and the remaining forces have entered the cave or the Devilsaur Matriarch has been defeated. When the Trial is completed, a reward will be provided to the victorious individuals based on performance, and the Star Oni will return to being limited as foreigners not following the Rule and Law of Orion.]
The third party, which was to be on their side, was actually pictured in a separate image.
He wore dark blue fighting robes, with a sword’s hilt in a holster on his shoulder. Myron was thankful for it, as he would rather his people not doubt who was on their side.
There were a few more lines about becoming Ordained Slaves to the Dark Kingdom, should they lose, where this…Blackthorne would have no trouble selling them, even in Lawful Kingdoms–if he so chose. Or worse.
Myron grimaced, his face twisting in concern. This was the opposite of what he wanted. His plan had been to sacrifice himself so that his people had time to escape. Now, it was like his people needed to shield him in order to have a chance at victory. Otherwise, if he died before defeating Thresh, this Orion would determine it to be his people’s loss.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
At the same time, he largely understood. In a battle among cultivators, the leaders or the Clan’s peak fighters, ultimately decided victory. With or without Orion’s rules, their leader’s death would lead to a cascade of losses from not being the peak fighter’s match. This was just formalizing that, it’s just that Myron had hoped the path to retreat was an option.
That he could give his life so that they could escape. They didn’t need to protect these old bones that were going to die soon anyway. He would do his best to make this a one-on-one between him and Thresh, and he imagined the man’s ego would allow this.
As Qi flooded Myron’s veins, he felt the limits against him largely wash away. He was brought back to the Golden Core stages, where his dantian held the power of the stars. Through his knowledge of the laws of the cosmos, and by reading the stars and one’s fate, he could read probable futures, allowing him to alter it.
He was in the Nascent Soul realm originally, but wounded like he was, he was much weaker than that in many aspects. This Orion did nothing to restore him, just removed the weight that made it extremely difficult to bring about any of his power.
Looking to the sky, he trembled with joy. The dome obscured the stars above visibly like a thin curtain, and it was squarely in the middle of the day–the sun high in the sky. But those things did not matter because his sight as a cultivator had fully returned. The Dao of the Stars was a part of him, and Orion was now allowing his gaze to once again reach the heavens.
He still had his chest wound and his aura was still in turmoil, but he could fight.
Regarding this third party, he was more than a little puzzled. If this person was only at the peak of the Second Stratum, how could they matter in this fight at all? Myron’s strength partially restored, he could feel his own strength. He would place himself firmly in the Third Stratum–though not quite in the middle of it, he’d call it Early. He should be able to defeat someone at the cusp of the third in but a mere instant, and he imagined it should be the same for this Thresh.
Nevertheless, Myron intended to win on his own. He was not going to rely on this third party for victory.
Still, as the barrier altered and a portal opened, Myron couldn’t help but look over to the man who flew out of it, landing a distance across from Elrash, in their own section of the barrier. Strangely, a powerful blue demonic beast wolf and bird followed him, the latter…riding the other one.
Bizarre. A bird would never want to ride a mammal. An eccentric creature like that…he could more account for this behavior if it was sapient than any normal monster’s behavior. A rarity among demonic beasts, but he had met a few capable of speech in his lifetime.
The pale elf who matched the image looked around with undisguised excitement, ignoring the enemy in front of him. “Wow. This is…well, I didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t this. Orion sure made a strange battlefield for me once again.”
Elrash looked pissed, his panther-like tail flickering in irritation. “So it was you, Lord Noblefrost. You dare attack my Shadowvale, spitting in the face of Blackthorne? You’ve brought yourself to your own execution, and sealed the fate of your people, even if they ultimately claim Shadowvale.”
“Aw, no way! Is that you, Elrash? Where the hell am I?” He inspected the panther beastfolk man, and chuckled. “Now, why you gotta make it sound like I’m the bad guy here? You’re the one chasing after these… Outlanders? Instead of protecting your home, and doing your duty as Lord. You’re the one who left it all open to attack after committing countless crimes, parading as a Lawful Kingdom when you were not. You and your people will be Judged, and…” He looked to the sky, and pointed at the dome, “And Blackthorne’s going to be none the wiser about who did it. Have to admit, that sure was nice of Orion, wasn’t it?”
Thresh scoffed. “You are a fool if you believe you will win here, or that Blackthorne will allow Shadowvale to be taken without consequences. As soon as his connection to it is lost, he will send his army.”
The pale elf, this Lord Noblefrost, grinned. “Which army? This one?” He laughed, and then grinned. “There won’t be anything left of it after today.”
Thresh growled. “You think this is his army? This is merely those he sent to collect the Outlanders. He raids the West for wealth. When he is forced to bring his real army to reclaim Shadowvale and Frosthaven, he will destroy everything out of anger.”
Lord Noblefrost shrugged. “I’ll just meet him with my own army, then. He’s not worthy of being a ruler of Orion.” He scoffed, and began what felt like a rant. “He’s a petty, inept tyrant that rules through greed and terror, limiting his own people’s strength out of nothing but his own fear. When his pile of trash meets my loyal warriors, they’ll be crushed by a mountain of talent and skill.” He chuckled, “Just as has already happened. The North is already mine. All of it. With Shadowvale claimed in the next hour, there won’t be a single bandit left in my forests.”
Elrash’s eyes narrowed with anger, and his voice made it clear he seethed with rage. “You foolish little upstart. There is a reason Blackthorne rules, why we all bend the knee. Do you think you and your people are talented? I am an elite that has prepared my foundations for decades, ready to enter the Third Stratum. And you only recently claimed Havendale, just mere months ago. You will be crushed like an ant.”
The pale elf snorted. “You’re talking awfully big for a small fry, Elrash. Decades to enter the Third Stratum? I’ll have reached it in just a few months in total, as you just admitted. You are not my match.” The man turned to meet Myron’s eyes with a smile. “Just do your best to survive and wait for me, purple man. We’ll beat that other jerk and the dinosaur together, or I’ll help you and your people get away. And I just want to let you know: I’d do it even without this Trial and Orion’s rewards, if I had the chance, and that’s a promise.”
Something about this man stood out to Myron. He looked like an elf, but he thought much more like an Oni. And…his words were peculiar. Like every word had a special weight to it. Myron couldn’t help but believe what he said.
“My name is Myron, and I am Patriarch of the Fatestrider Clan, the last of the Star Oni of Starhold. If you help my people defeat this menace and escape, we will be in your debt–pale blue man.”
The man chuckled. “That’s fair. I’m Nicholas Noblefrost, Lord of Frosthaven, but most call me Nick. I’ll see you soon after I crush this scrub, then we’ll talk.”
The barriers shifted, the battle beginning.
“Die!”
Elrash rushed forward, and a wave of frost billowed out from the man named Nick. He drew a strange blade of blue light from his shoulder as he swung it down to meet the panther beastfolk. Their swords met, and Myron was forced to turn to Thresh, as he started to grow roots around his body to prepare for battle.
Roars from the devilsaurs rang out from the distance, and the bandit army began to move forward. The creatures had been moved out of their den, allowing his people to have a path to retreat to their very cave, a strange thing. But now, they were headed toward both armies, flanking the numerous miniature battles.
The largest one began stomping a great distance away, marching slowly toward the battle.
Myron couldn’t help but smile as the many Star Oni women were delimited, their bodies and their tetsubos growing as their Qi was restored. The men started gathering starlight, preparing their enhancing and fate-guiding abilities.
It was a hundred and eighty clan members against a thousand cutthroats and mercenaries. Proud warriors against a mountain of trash, as the elf said. To win, his people would need to slay over five each. Myron liked their chances at that, as they had more than already accomplished this over the last few months. But what of these devilsaurs? He couldn’t help but be worried about their influence on the upcoming battle.
Orion knew his people’s chances were slim at the start, and it had kept things that way, it sounded like.
Accessing his spatial pouch covered in stars, Myron gave a pleased sigh as the miniscule amount of Qi usage didn’t harm him. Since it was only a drop in a small pond instead of a large portion of a pathetic cup, his wound wasn’t even disturbed.
He withdrew his weapon–the Spear of Starlight, and a pill–a Body Restoration pill. A waste of such a treasure, but he needed it to give his all during this fight. Placing it on his tongue, it melted and entered his body in mere moments, his meridians being restored from much of the damage at a rapid pace.
The desire to consume this pill the last few agonizing months was significant, but he had held off, knowing he could not bring about most of its efficacy–until now that he could use his Qi.
Their treasury contained a multitude of unique items, many having equally unique purposes and value. But they were no longer items they could restock, limited resources that he must be conservative about their usage. Perhaps, they would never obtain treasures of such levels ever again.
He would have gladly traded the pouch for his clan’s safety, but the pricks rejected the trade. He would make them pay, he swore.
Looking inside the pouch, he saw that many of his treasures, the more powerful, Fourth Stratum level ones, were still completely sealed by Orion’s golden light. Nearly everything above the second had previously been sealed, but that has changed.
There were now a handful of Third Stratum ones unsealed, and he smiled as he realized more than one of them would be perfect for what he needed. He wanted a one-on-one fight with Thresh, and this would grant it to him.
He withdrew a few more treasures and pills, placing them in a less significant spatial pouch at his waist, and tossed his clan’s special sack, their treasury, to a subordinate. Myron planned on fighting to the death, and he wanted to ensure that when his daughter fled into the cave, that she got the clan’s heritage among other things.
Myron spoke in his people’s language, ensuring their enemies couldn’t understand. “Make sure this gets to my daughter. Our Clan’s past and very future is within.”
“Right away!”
Thresh noticed the elaborate sack being thrown, and the man running away with it toward the army. “You fool! All treasure will be Blackthorne’s!”
The large tree man rushed forward, now nearly completely covered in mottled roots. He was starting to look like a diseased treant, but he certainly didn’t move like one. The plant-covered man leaped across the battlefield, while Myron waved his free hand, the other holding his spear.
When Myron waved his hand, it was like his hand was a paintbrush, and the air around them was his canvas. Stars were left behind where he waved, and they began to spread out and scatter into the surrounding area.
Despite the healing of his body from the pill, Myron couldn’t help the grunt that escaped his mouth as he divined his Way, and stabbed his spear in Thresh’s direction. The pill was unable to restore his body in its entirety, the problem being a wound of the soul from his Fated.
A beam of light emitted from his spear, carrying the power of stars. It cut through the air and struck Thresh, knocking him off-course and slamming his body into a tree.
Myron narrowed his eyes at the result. He had grunted because he had spent a fair enough portion of his Qi, which caused the wound in his chest to flare in pain. He expected to wound this man while he was distracted, following the best Way he could divine–the perfect angle and timing to harm him.
Yet, as the roots re-covered the area Myron pierced, he could see with his Divine Sense that to harm Thresh at all, he would have to hit much harder than that.
Thresh grunted, the man he was chasing now out of his view. “Hmm, not bad, purple man.”
He signaled to a man nearby. “Go get the sparkly sack–do not allow it to get away.” Thresh turned back to Myron, “But you’re going to have to try much harder than that. When you face a Lord of Orion, you don’t just face the man in front of you. You face their Path, their Kingdom, the weight of the essence of those that are under them.” He grinned. “And I have many underneath me. Willing and unwilling.”
“Their Kingdom, you say?” Myron couldn’t help but give another thought to the Lord Noblefrost that was fighting off to the side. Perhaps his fight mattered more than he originally thought. Looking to the stars twinkling around, Myron divined his Way again. Having his powers restored, he had no need for crude tools for a quick divination of which Way was better for him and his fate, of an ongoing battle.
Going all out against Thresh, trying to get the kill or wound him, no matter the cost: It would surely result in Shara’s Death.
Fighting defensively, waiting for allies to join the battle: He received no answer.
Myron grinned. It was just like the divinations before. This man, this Lord Noblefrost…just what was he? Could it be his Kingdom causing this? Why not Blackthorne’s?
It did not matter. Just as Myron’s people were confused about what the people of Orion could do, he was sure that Thresh would also be confused about what he, as an Outlander, could do. Thresh seemed to covet his people’s knowledge and treasures, as they were vastly different from those on Orion. Myron would use this.
Before he entered the battle, he thought he would have to give up everything, just to land a single blow thanks to Orion limiting him. Of course, now he knew that it would have, at best, landed just as his previous blow–accomplishing nothing.
Instead, Myron was given a chance for both him and his people to fight to their heart’s content, and he couldn’t help but get a little excited, his blood boiling. His wife loved fights like this, and he felt her soul stirring for the first time at the prospect.
Myron would show these shitty bandits why he was known as the Devil General of Starhold, and why his people were feared throughout all The Realms. The Star Oni women might be big, but pound for pound, few in The Realms could ever be their match.
Secretly, he sent out his stars to his squad leaders, his men that led their beautiful berserkers across the battlefield. The Devilsaurs were another story, but he had no doubt that, directed by him, his people would utterly destroy these bandits and mercenaries. This fight with Thresh was the linchpin to his people’s success.
He enhanced his voice with Qi, making sure it could reach to all the edges of the battlefield and in his people’s language, “Fatestrider Clan, follow the stars and focus on defeating the bandits and opening a path to the cave. Let’s show this scum the true strength of our people and Clan.”