The other two were equally surprised. “How can this be? Elder Tegan was the strongest member of the sect!”
“Even the great elder was killed…” Kaya shook her head. “It seems that this year’s tower climb will mark the decline of our Falling Rain Sect.”
Dracia had always appreciated Tegan, as the old man had been the only hint of a moral compass that Tems had ever followed, and it had been because of him that the sect had run smoothly since the former sect master had been killed by the spirit of the lake.
At her level of cultivation, Dracia could still hear the conversations within the main dining hall if she desired to direct her focus in that direction, and she was suddenly aware that all sound within the villa had ceased. Sensing the auras within the dining hall, she learned that everyone had gone still from shock, or frozen from fear.
Her cousins sent her serious looks, at which point she quelled her chaotic heart and returned their stares with one of solemnity.
“Gather our forces at the southern entrance to the estate. Make sure to prepare for a hard fight.”
“And you?”
Looking at Jaren, she put on an anxious smile. “I must speak with my husband.”
Her cousins nodded and then quickly left the room. Dracia waited a few moments before she followed after them. Walking through the hallways with a hammering heart, she realized that, like it or not, the entire sect would have to inadvertently help her to take revenge for her fallen nephew.
First thing’s first…
Her husband might have been the patriarch of the clan, but at the first level of Genesis, he could only command so much authority during times of crisis. In moments such as these, everyone in the Hatten clan always looked to Dracia and her cousins for leadership, and she needed to make sure that the selfish man didn’t forget this fact. As everybody on the property rushed to heed the sect master’s command, she had a difficult time shaking off a sudden feeling of forboding.
***
Dracia lead over a thousand of her clansmen through the windblown countryside, where a heavy storm was hours into wreaking havoc on the island. Trees had fallen over with broken backs, flowers had been ripped from their roots, and visibility was severely limited, though none of the specially constructed infrastructure that they passed had been harmed in the slightest. The island’s residents were hardy people, and the sect had long since taken the volatile environment into account when it came to constructing new buildings or creating fresh settlements, so none of the nearby towns or villages showed any signs of stress.
She, Jaren and Kaya led their forces at an even pace, flying low through the air as everybody else followed after them on the flying swords that the Falling Rain Sect was famous for manufacturing. At the very back of the swarm of disciples and elders, her husband and his brother took up the rearguard, neither of them nearly as angry as she thought they would be after she forcefully took control of the clan’s mobilization. She could tell that both of them were simply happy to take up positions as far away from the fighting as possible, as the two were cowards at their cores. She might have loved her spouse once upon a time, but as things were, Dracia held onto a silent hope that she would be a widow by the time the sun began to rise on their great island.
“You were right,” said Kaya, whose blue robes were not even the slightest bit wet, her brown hair unfazed by the wind. “They’re actually heading towards Elmer.”
Tems had been keeping tabs of the enemy group and relaying their positions to all of the elders of the sect in a periodic manner, and it had now come to light that Dracia and her clansmen were hunting down two separate groups. One included the turncoat, May, along with another powerful cultivator that they had been warned to be wary of, as well as the boy that had supposedly killed Drasin. Orders had been passed down to leave this trio alone, since their auras were too difficult to detect for most members of the sect. As per the sect master, the second group was to be targeted in full force, so as to draw out the others for a final, large-scale confrontation.
Stolen novel; please report.
“I honestly didn’t think I’d live to see a day where the entire sect was mobilized,” came Jaren’s raised voice. “Tegan’s death really seems to have affected Tems. He’s never been one to oversee anything except his lustful escapades, and yet he’s directing everybody so efficiently.”
Dracia nodded, glancing several hundred paces to the east and west to catch momentary glimpses of the two other armies that were shadowing them. Two thousand on her left, and eight hundred on her right, both led by high-ranking elders, with another three hundred flying some distance ahead of them atop their sect’s flying swords.
“Look,” called Kaya, pointing to a group of injured disciples that were limping towards their forces and away from the enemy. “Their auras are unstable. We need to help them, quickly!” There were twenty-two disciples in the group, behind which they dragged the bodies of a similar amount of their comrades.
Leave them, came Tem’s voice, which rang loud in Dracia’s ears. The disciples from West Bay are only a few minutes behind you. They’ll take care of any wounded they encounter on the way, so keep onwards. His voice was level and calm, his words slow and stoic. Was this really Tems, the useless boy that had never grown up?
How far are they? Did they change course again?
No, but I doubt they’ll head back in the direction of Elmer. It seems like they’ve noticed that I’ve been tracking them.
Loud sounds of impact sounded from far up ahead, which coincided with a muzzled, storm-smothered flash of golden light. An attack like that could only have come from a cultivator at the Genesis stage, and one at the second level.
You said that there was only one Genesis-staged person in this group, and that they were at the first level.
These are no ordinary youths. It seems that all of them can hold their own against those of higher cultivation levels. Now enough, I don’t have time to talk to any one person.
With all due respect, Sect Master, what are you doing at the moment? Wouldn’t this problem be solved if you and the remaining great elders personally took action?
More flashes of light, more muffled explosions, and more injured or dead disciples fleeing from up ahead. Dracia grew more vigilant, as she had yet to see a single enemy corpse and yet had encountered hundreds of young, lifeless bodies lying abandoned in the whiplashing winds of Weston’s countryside.
We’re activating the defensive formation. Just make sure that they don’t leave the island before we do so, else it’ll be hard to go after them.
As you wish.
She cut contact with Tems and quickly informed her group of the sect master’s intentions.
“The great defensive formation?” said Jaren, who looked almost disgusted. “Is he crazy? Once it’s activated, it’ll be up for three years indefinitely. We won’t be able to leave, and nobody will be able to enter!”
“Not only that,” called Kaya, “but the formation itself will be severely damaged. Why doesn’t that fool just take command of the elders and subdue them directly?”
“Just when I was beginning to feel a sliver of respect for him.”
Listening to her cousins speak, Dracia kept her thoughts to herself. This move was definitely to keep May and the other expert confined within their territory, as the group up ahead would soon be subdued by the forces of the inner and outer courts. Was May’s helper really so terrifying?
They travelled on through the storm without delay, eventually passing by a daunting scene that drained the colour from many faces. They had passed over a field of corpses in all states of disfiguration, the lingering auras describing the dead as having been an elite group of inner court disciples similar to the one that was currently ahead of her clan’s forces.
Aside from a series of solemn mumbles, not many people said anything as the group flew by, even though a good deal of those present were sure to have seen some familiar faces among the massacred.
What’s this? Tems hadn’t labelled this group as much of a threat, and yet so many of their members had already died. Suddenly uneasy, Dracia wondered how many people they were truly chasing. It was hard to ignore the fact that all of the corpses that they had passed so far were members of the sect, which meant that it was likely that none of the intruders had died yet.
Sensing conflict up ahead, she pointed in the direction of where a small skirmish was taking place and ordered her entourage to change course.
Only seven?