Unfi walked down the streets and greeted the people that bowed in his favor. It left a bad taste in his mouth, but he couldn't just deny their appreciation.
Long ago, he was just a mere village scout. Of course, even then, he still could not be described with the word "mere." It was more akin to a hero, just like he was now, how he had always been. A life lived in expectations and of image.
But Unfi was not a hero, he hated the word. He knew that better himself. He hated being called a hero, no, he was a warrior. He didn't deserve the title of hero. He protected sure, but a hero did more than just protect. They solved the problem from its roots.
Munta and Gukulm were more hero than himself. He fought and protected while Gukulm strived to improve the tribe. Munta constantly improved himself and was the direct reason why Unfi had enough power to protect. Munta solved many problems from their roots, he solved conflicts while Gukulm would lead the tribe. If a hero didn't solve the problems from the roots, then he would need to be a true leader. Unfi couldn't solve the problem and he knew that he wouldn't be able to lead as well as Gukulm.
Walking to his training hall, he picked up a wooden sword and swung it a few times to get its weight in his mind. No longer just a scout, he was now a warrior. One that must protect all he lived for. His king and his companions.
A few of his disciples began to approach him, by now he had already gone through many different forms of swings and exercises. Basked in sweat, he addressed their questions.
They were the usual ones such as, 'what do I do when...' or 'can you teach me...' He could only shake his head at the last question. He had already taught his disciples everything he knew within the first month and reinforced the techniques in their mind. What mattered most was experience and it was experience they just weren't getting.
His stubble beard was always messily shaven to a thin length and his hair was ragged, giving him the look of a rogue. Still, he didn't give up on his training. There were still threats on the loose.
Unfi's mind stumbled back onto his scouting days. 'when all I had to do was survive in a forest...' He closed his eyes and thought of that day, the day that started it all between him and Tarban.
A huntrow may have killed his forces, but Tarban always hit harder when he came back. No one, not even Munta, could rival his raw magical talents. Still, that was where his advantages ended.
Unfi had forces, more so than that, too, he had technique and experience. Countless battles had honed his senses to the extreme. Even without the assistance of ulma, Unfi suspected that he would only be slightly worse off in terms of skill. A true peak.
Still, it was just a peak. He had climbed the mountain, but not the land that touched the sky. He stood on a peak far below the clouds, an infinite and vast world of swordsmanship and ulma control was in front of him, but no matter how hard he tried, Unfi was stuck at a bottleneck.
He could not climb any higher, as said before, he was at the tip of his own peak. High enough to see all the other mountains that could touch clouds, but low enough to where he couldn't even fathom touching the clouds himself.
With the body of a stage 3 ulmaster, Unfi would catch his body having feelings of immense false power. His mind wanted so, so badly to be the strongest, but deep down, the warrior knew he was far from it.
Taking a deep breath, Unfi calmed his mind. It was not good to get lost in his thoughts so easily. He swung his sword, but the itch in his head just wasn't going away. He needed to fight. To keep his body moving, even if it was just to satisfy an urge that had become all too common in his latest years.
He put down the wooden sword and walked out into the forest. Powerful huntrow knew to avoid the major human towns, but that did not stop them from gathering far away.
Bolting across the solid ground, Unfi used ulma to increase the power in his legs with each step. His body was like a straight arrow piercing through the forest and not even an obstacle could obstruct him from his path.
To his waist, a bone sword made out of his greatest kill of Tak'kulu lay. The sword had accompanied him throughout the years and showed little sign of giving way to breaking any time soon. His body was outfitted with thin metals covered by a few layers of skin from the toughest of huntrows.
Soon enough, he encountered a large huntrow. It was many times his own height and thousands of times more than his own weight. It roared at the thin creature below it, but Unfi did not give in to pressure.
Jumping up swiftly, Unfi took out his bone sword in a flash before beginning to slice away at the huntrows tough skin. Its two legs stumbled, but it relented and bashed its side into a tree trunk, the side where Unfi had been.
The huntrow saw a shadow beneath it and stomped on it immediately, but it was too late.
Unfi moved like liquid underneath its dancing feet as he continued to slash at the huntrow. It was like watching the huntrow being blended. The slashes made it bleed more and more with each cut. It could only regenerate so much in a short amount of time.
Unfi maneuvered up its body, resisting the huntrow's thrashing and mounted its head. He held the grip of the sword with both hands and pierced the huntrows eyes.
It roared in pain and anger, but it was now blinded in one eye. It began to charge through the trees, but that did little to knock the human on top of it. With another stab, both eyes of the huntrow had been popped.
The next few minutes could be called nothing but watching the huntrow get tortured as Unfi hurriedly finished off the rest of its dimming life.
The warrior then slowly dragged the huntrow carcass to town as he looked at his hands in satisfaction. That was until he felt a sense of disgust rise up. He didn't need to kill that huntrow. The town was doing great by itself. No longer were the times he had to kill the huntrow just for materials, now he killed it to scratch an itch.
Sheathing his sword, Unfi walked back to his hut. His body shook, but the air was not cold and the winds were gentle.
Sitting down in a meditative stance, the warrior did not so much as glance at the ulma within himself, but this time truly closed off all senses. He questioned himself repeatedly. What was he doing now?
There wasn't much he was doing. He had no purpose. Sure, he wanted to protect his king and companions, but that was how it always was, right? That was his duty and desire, but not his purpose. He trained each day, taught hopeless disciples, just what was he doing with his life?
Frustrations of being unable to improve any farther only amplified his urges. An itch that only scratched itself when he killed something that used to be mighty and strong. Now? That huntrow was just a small lazl in his eyes.
He envisioned the peak that he was sitting on top of. It had become a familiar sight and felt like home, but it would never be his home. He should not have a home on any peak. Stagnation would only make him lazy, but his desire to improve was giving him increasingly bad effects. Unfi was in a dilemma.
Unfi gazed at the other peaks with longing eyes. How can I get there?
Something clicked in his mind. There?
...
...
Me?
...
...
Looking at the other mountains, he suddenly realized something. Why would he think about going up when he was clearly unable to do so? His own mountain led downwards in all directions, but so did all other mountains whether big or small. Sure, they would have minor details like cliffs or pits that would catch him, but that was a part of the process.
He could not go up no matter how hard he tried. So, why couldn't he go down?
He would have to walk off the mountain and across the plains until he reached a mountain even higher than the one he resided on. He was limiting himself to one, but why not two? Or even three!
He had reached the peak of this mountain, there were no longer any skills to be gained.
Unfi stretched out his leg and took a downward step. Something fundamental changed within him.
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It was like everything he had learned was being forged into himself. More solid than ever. Each step was harder than the last, and with each movement, a pulling force tried to bring him back to the peak of the mountain. Unfi did not let the temptations affect him, his breath was shallow, but he did not mind.
A few hours later, Unfi suddenly opened his eyes. No longer was he on the mountain, but now he was on the bottom of an infinite plain. He would have to find something new. More inspiration to climb a new mountain's peak.
He could not grow, but he could move. He was no longer restrained to one place and could freely take in all the inspiration he needed. With every piece of information he learned, it was like taking additional steps from within the plains. Eventually, his efforts would pay off.
A pressure naturally came off of Unfi and he looked around with deep eyes. He saw the world differently, like he could cut it in half.
Standing up, he walked around the town. People moved around without a care in the world. With the abundance of ulmasters, not everyone had to dedicate their lives to the defense of the town. Still, Unfi couldn't help but slightly ridicule these people. There is always a stronger foe, one that even he may not be able to defeat and if this time comes, then there is no helping them but themselves.
Entering into his training hall, he picked up his wooden sword again. His disciples dared not to disturb their master, as it felt like he could kill them with but a single glare.
He swung his sword and it was like a force in the world. Unfi knew that this was not so, but it moved so elegantly, that it surprised even himself. He practiced a few sets of his own technique, and it had reached a new realm. His sword moved the same, but it was solid. He knew his movements long before he would reach them.
He let out a deep breath of air, it was refreshing to finally feel something different in the way of his technique. He had stagnated so long that he felt moss was growing on him.
He slashed out. It was different from any other slashes before and it was rough in nature, but it could work. He repeated the slash and before long, it had reached an acceptable standard. Back in his plains of mind, he was standing before a small hill.
---
It was hard to say whether Unfi was sad, even though he himself knew that. He had gained experience in his 38 years of living, but still, never did he anticipate Gukulm's misfortune. A normal day like any other, but Gukulm had started coughing up blood.
Unfi knew that the man, his king, was old. But the effect of ulma should let him live longer, right?
'Then why...?' He thought in his mind. His king had only lived for 80 years. Going from the few people that managed to actually reach this age, the earliest one had died naturally at the age of 86 and that was before ulma had been developed.
He tried to think of a reason, any reason, then his mind wandered to him. It was Tarban.
There was no one else it could have been. He'd had a grudge against him and his tribe for as long as he could remember. But when he thought of it, Unfi didn't know why Tarban didn't do this sooner.
Still, it was hard to harbor hatred for his enemy when he had to take care of Gukulm. He would not leave his side until either someone cures him, or...
...
Three days later, Gukulm succumbed to poison.
Unfi found himself tearing up. Something he hadn't done in a long time. Just how had Tarban done it?
The warrior knew how. Deep in the jungle, there was a special plant that only Gukulm liked to eat. To everyone else, even himself, it tasted too bitter, but his king ate them like it was the only food in the world. They had their own trees growing, but still, it was not enough for him. It must have been one of these wild trees that Tarban had targeted. From there, it would only take time.
Unfi found himself disturbed at the thought. To think that he would agree with Tarban that poisoning the tree would be the easiest and simplest way to kill Gukulm. No one had even thought of it despite the many ways it could endanger him.
Poison tasted bitter, Unfi knew that fact well. That was why even someone as wise as his king would only think the fruits were extra bitter when he took a bite.
Still, there was only so much that Unfi could do, he was not one to lead a town. Between Gukulm's people, Unfi was up there to be chosen as the new king, but he denied it. He was not meant to rule, or lead. He was a warrior, he had to fight and protect. Many people under Gukulm severely doubted their skills, but in the end, everyone could only agree that a certain person was the most suited for this rule.
Munta. He was the new king. Although Unfi couldn't feel the same towards him as a king, the man was still his friend. One that he would be willing to protect just the same as Gukulm.
He caught himself in a dilemma, then who should he be under? The principles of his dead king, or Munta? He knew that both of them relied on Gukulm exceedingly and so, he knew that even if it was a little different, Unfi didn't mind Munta. And so, he was now under Munta.
It did not take long for the town to be turned into a city. So many ideas. Unfi watched the walls previously built undertake new designs, houses were improved, and new infrastructure was added.
Just where had Munta gotten all of these ideas from? Unfi knew that, just like before, it was hard to understand the genius's mind. It was so full of ideas, that he doubted he could have thought of all them in a lifetime.
Still, the town began to expand and before long, it was more than four times its previous size. Bigger buildings mostly occupied the space, but Unfi knew that it would only get bigger to accommodate for new people.
Unfi watched as the huntrow of all things were... domesticated? Whatever that word meant, pet huntrows were just called trows. Small four legged creatures that he had seen in the wilderness sometimes took on a friendly side. Compared to the ones that were in the forest, these creatures actively tried to make you pet it? It wanted affection and it was just too hard not to give it to the creature for most people.
The warrior was a man of principle, but he, himself, couldn't help himself but get his own hapcron. This idea led to many other huntrows being turned. Despite his precious thoughts, it seemed that a lot of huntrow, in nature, weren't as violent as he thought.
Tilmike's were used for transportation with their fast and strong legs while gangdun's were used by a new type of people that traveled between developing towns in caravans. It was a dangerous job, but the people were strong enough to defend themselves.
The world was changing at a fast pace, but the rapid improvement soon came to an end. The warrior walked into a large building. The exterior was exceedingly humble, but inside, there were many tools and gadgets of all kinds.
Munta stood besides a table, trying to make what seemed to be a circle with many small pillars sticking out of it. Every now and then, an assistant would notify him of a certain matter and he would solve it after only a few minutes.
Unfi greeted him and Munta dropped what he was doing. The pressure on the man was hard. With juggling of taking care of, what Munta called a whole city, to trying to think of ways to improve, and making new things to advance the world; there was just too much to do for a single man.
On a level, Munta could only relate Unfi, his only friend. It was hard to be as trusting and charismatic as Gukulm, but Munta made up for it in building his trust with ideas that improved people's lives. In the same way that Unfi focused on his craft of fighting, Munta did the same in his contraptions and ulma.
The two walked out the building and they got to talking. From the state of their civilization to simple matters, it was a nice break in their lives.
"My forces are still looking for Tarban, but by now we've travelled out a hundred Galn from any human settlement, but still, there is no sign to be found..." It was a tiring effort and years of search had yet to bear any fruit.
"Do not worry, we'll find him eventually." Munta could be considered paranoid, but mostly just careful. He did not make any mistakes and he hunted his own food and thoroughly checked everything that entered his body. The only way to kill Munta was through assassination.
Unfi knew that this was because Tarban was still loose, but truly, no matter how hard he tried, there was no traces of Tarban anywhere. His attacks only came every few years, but each time they were enough to cause significant damage.
The last attack had caused all nearby plant life to rot all the way from 5 Galn out of each city and town. The rotted plant life would act as a catalyst and emit a poisoning gas that lasted for a month. Many people died and everyone had to stay in enclosed bunkers the whole time.
As they walked through town, they retrieved a large pile of meat before heading into Gukulm's memorial. They stored away their armor and weapons before walking inside. The original light magic plant laid in the middle.
Giving the plant the meat, they kneeled down.
"May you live again, strengthen your soul in the bud of this plant and be let free into a life anew. Do not worry, we will set this country right, in your place." After doing so, they made Gukulm's ruling symbol out of dense ulma and let it be devoured by the plant.
Leaving the memorial, Unfi and Munta talked about future concerns and in the end, Unfi decided what to do next. They parted ways and Unfi headed into the training halls.
His disciples had long grown up and taken in their own disciples, it was only a matter of time until he had to expand the training halls once more. Walking into a private room full of light magic plants, he basked in the ulma and practiced his swordsmanship.
The development of a new style, directly combining ulma and sword technique into one was going well. If, before, he had only been using ulma to sharpen his or improve his movements, now he would be using ulma to make his own sword techniques.
Unfi flashed forward, letting go of his grasp of the sword, but strangely it did not fall to the ground. Through a thread of ulma, he held the sword in the air and pulled his hand back to capture the grip of the sword. Right after that, he slashed out again, but this time a burst of ulma formed the projection of swords.
The swords were weak but sharp. If they were to hit something, they would still do a good amount of damage. Making contact with a block of wood, they made a notch before shattering into pieces of ulma and dissipated into the air. The true sword cut its own block of wood directly in half.
The advantage of the phantom swords were that they were made out of ulma and by using another thread of ulma, he could control like it was a limb. Still, they would never do enough damage to do a fatal blow.
The next thing Unfi tried was different from all the rest. In fact, it was already something developed enough that all ulmasters should learn. He dissipated his ulma into the air as thing as he could. It filled the room and he could sense all the walls and obstructions. He envisioned the structure of the room and he could see his own body. Picking up a wooden block, empty space in the map that he had formed moved.
Bringing back his ulma, Unfi opened his eyes. It was hard to read the ulma and actually move according to it unless he blocked out his sense of sight. This method wouldn't be useful in battle unless his vision was obstructed.
Walking out of the training hall, he looked just in time to see smoke in the distance. Running there in less than twenty seconds, he found the city on fire in more places than one.
"Damn Tarban!"
---
Unfi was in an emergency meeting with Munta and the other heads.
"Worshippers of Tarban are starting to appear." Munta stated directly.
Everyone grew grim at the sight. If the man started to teach his dastard techniques, then it would only make everyone's lives harder.
"I'll train more people and increase the punishments." Unfi did not need to spare anybody who learned the techniques of Tarban. He had been going light, but now he needed to strengthen his fist. Besides, the guard was in need of more forces.
"If we find influence of practicing his technique on anybody, we won't heal them." Trilla said from besides him. He knew she hated them as much as he did himself.
A few other people stated their plan of actions. No longer would they spare anybody. They needed to show that they will be killed.
"There is no... Need. What we need to do is find and kill Tarban directly." It was time that everyone had started to take the existance of Tarban more seriously than before.
Now no longer a dangerous nuisance, Tarban was beginning to actually influence people. He had changed his ways and that was a dangerous thing.
"All of you can give out your own punishments, but this order takes priority. Assist Unfi in whatever way you can. Unfi, you do whatever you can to find him."
Unfi didn't mind the extra work, besides, he had been looking for a long time to give up some of his duties for this specific reason. More than half of the continent was explored and yet, besides a few clues, nothing had been found of Tarban.
They could only set up a proper exploration team and check the other half properly.
After a few more topics, the meeting disbanded and everyone began their preparations. Unfi assembled his elite force of 15 and Trilla would accompany him with an extra three advanced healers. The other heads also sent more than a few gangduns and tilmikes along with riders and people experienced in exploration. They had also supplied them enough supplies, whether it be weapons, armor, medical tools, light magic plants, paper, and water containers.
They could get food anywhere, especially from the huntrow that they would have to inevitably kill when they attack. Water would have to be refilled whenever they could.
A week later, Unfi would depart and begin their true search for Tarban.
He would not give up even if it took a year or five, the time did not matter. What mattered was that he would finally conduct a serious search for Tarban. Through his few skirmishes with the man, his ulma use had surpassed everyone by leaps and bounds. Only Unfi could face him directly.