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The Warrior of God

Ling Xuan’s heart pounded as he stood paralyzed in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the horrifying entity before him. It loomed in the center of what appeared to be a desolate, shriveled-up garden, a scene of decay and despondency.

The garden, once perhaps a place of beauty and life, was now a twisted mockery of its former self. The ground was cracked and dry, littered with withered, skeletal remains of plants and flowers that had long since lost their vibrancy. The soil was a dark, ashen gray, and the air was filled with a faint, musty stench of rot and mildew. Here and there, twisted, blackened roots jutted out from the ground like the gnarled fingers of the dead, clawing at the earth in a desperate, futile grasp for life.

In the midst of this desolation, it stood—a massive, grotesque figure. Its numerous limbs, all crimson and contorted, seemed almost out of place against the barren backdrop, adding an unsettling contrast to the scene. The beast’s body was a writhing mass of blood-red appendages, each one ending in razor-sharp talons or barbed tendrils that scraped and slithered over the cracked earth.

Its head was a nightmarish mass of horror, with eyes that bulged unnaturally and glowed with a malevolent crimson light. Its mouth hung open in a grotesque snarl, revealing rows of needle-like teeth that seemed to glisten with a dark, viscous substance. The beast’s growls resonated deeply, a low, throbbing sound that vibrated through the very air, mixing with the eerie creaks and groans of the dying garden.

Ling Xuan’s skin prickled with the cold, heavy air, and the stench of decay was almost unbearable. He stood there, taking in the ghastly sight before him. The realisation hit him with a shiver down his spine.It had been mentioned in the texts of The Temple.

The Wrath of The Sky Traversing Giant and Slayer of all Those who dare to Blaspheme its Lord.

Mara.

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Intense fear gripped the heart of Ling Xuan as he readied himself for battle. Mara responded by shifting into a fierce stance, its numerous appendages tensing and its eyes narrowing with predatory focus. Ling Xuan's mind raced, calculating ways to defeat the monstrous being before him. Yet, at that moment, a strange calm washed over him, dispelling his fear.

“Be calm, Carto.” Urizen’s voice echoed in Ling Xuan’s mind, soothing and steady.

Ling Xuan didn’t speak, but he felt his emotions being suppressed once again by Urizen. The clarity allowed him to observe Mara more closely. “Why has it not attacked me?” he wondered, moving cautiously.

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To his surprise, Mara mimicked his movements, though with slight inaccuracies and variations. Ling Xuan raised his right hand slowly, and Mara’s corresponding limb moved similarly but with a slight lag. He took a step to the left, and Mara mirrored the motion, its limbs dragging slightly on the ground.

“It’s a perfectly sentient being that is replicating my actions,” Ling Xuan realized. “If I attack it, it’ll attack me.”

Ling Xuan moved his arm in a sweeping arc, and Mara did the same, albeit with a hint of hesitation. Testing his theory further, he performed a series of intricate movements, watching as Mara followed suit with increasing precision, yet always a fraction behind.

He contemplated his next move, aware that any aggressive action would trigger a violent response. Instead, he decided to experiment with less aggressive gestures. Ling Xuan knelt slowly, and Mara’s massive form attempted to kneel, its numerous limbs struggling to mimic the action.

Ling Xuan, though intrigued by Mara’s mimicry, did not let his guard down. For all he knew, the creature could be tricking him, deceiving him with its imitations, and biding its time to strike when he least expected it. He remained cautious, aware that any lapse in vigilance could be fatal.

“It has been here for quite a while,” Ling Xuan mused, easily discerning that Mara had been stuck in the garden for an extended period. “But how long is the question.” The existence of Mara was more of a legend, a bedtime story told by devotees to their children to make them sleep, than an actual being.

“Even that book stated that The Maitreya was the only being formed from the Ash of God,” Ling Xuan pondered. “If I believe it, then this Mara was something created after the story and not the other way around. Either way, this thing is at least centuries old, and few beings can survive that duration except for those who have reached their perfected form, Grandmasters.”

Ling Xuan furrowed his brows, recognizing the implications. At the very least, the creature he was facing was an Immortal Demon or something of similar power, or perhaps even a Mythical Beast. Both possibilities were daunting.

“Speaking of Amrita, where is it?” Ling Xuan scanned the desolate garden, his eyes darting across the twisted landscape. Mara mirrored his movements, its numerous crimson limbs twitching and coiling in unison with his.

As Ling Xuan turned his head to look in the opposite direction, he caught a glimpse of it—a gourd, hanging from the gnarled, leafless tree behind Mara. The gourd emitted a faint, ethereal glow, unmistakable even in the dim light. Amrita was behind Mara!

“Well, I’m dead,” he thought wryly, a grim smile touching his lips.

“I have to find a way,” Ling Xuan murmured under his breath, the weight of his predicament pressing heavily on his mind.

He took a cautious step forward, his eyes never leaving Mara. To his dismay, Mara mirrored his movement with perfect precision. With every step Ling Xuan took, the distance between him and the beast lessened. The looming presence of Mara, with its array of red limbs and menacing eyes, grew ever closer.

As Ling Xuan advanced, he glanced at the tree and noticed something alarming: dozens of gourds now hung from its twisted branches, each one glowing faintly in the dim light. The realisation hit him like a cold wave—this was a trick!