"Yeahhh!" Damien cheered. "That should teach them."

But Gray wasn't smiling. [I was not referring to the dragons, Damien.]

"What?"

[Damien,] Gray continued. [I have been with you for the better part of half a year now, and during these times I have studied you. Watched you. Do you know what I have noticed?]

Damien didn't answer, too surprised to say anything, so Gray answered for him.

[Arrogance. Most of your problems could have been better avoided if you weren't so arrogant.] Gray said. [You need to learn to be more polite.]

"Me? Polite?" Damien barked a laugh. "To be polite is to be seen as weak! Especially against the people I deal with. I have gotten just fine by being who I am. I am not going to kowtow to some royal just because I want to avoid problems. And if anyone wants to take it up with me," he shrugged. "They can come to me themselves!"

[Are you done ranting?] Gray cocked his head. [Because I am going to be straight with you right now. The sooner you get your childish arrogance in check, the sooner you avoid unnecessary problems.

[You are no longer some kid from a backward village who has something to prove. You are a figure of high status, and in the circle you are to walk, a certain level of restraint is required.] Gray sighed. [Damien, you don't need to be arrogant just because you want to project strength, that's a behavior better left for young scions who haven't earned a single iota of their power. If anything, no one would pay you any respect if you're seen as childishly arrogant.]

Damien's face twisted, turning toward Keilan. "Are you going to say anything about this?"

"Trust me, brother, you do not want my opinion."

"Oh, so you're taking him, too?" Damien pointed at Gray.

"There is no side, Damien! There is the only truth, and I will never be afraid to tell you the truth, regardless of your feelings. Yes, you are arrogant, too arrogant, in fact. I'll admit a certain level of it was required when we were both trying to stay out of the clutches of the hyenas. But, Damien, those times are gone. You are powerful, more powerful than all, if not, most of the Spirit lords on this planet. You do not need arrogance to project power, Damien. Only a fool would take politeness for weakness."

"They killed them, Kei! They killed her. Damien choked, his eyes clouding. "Their arrogance did. They didn't see us as anything more than bugs to be squashed so they killed them. How can I not treat them the same way they did to us?"

"Yes, they did." Keilan floated over towards him, putting both his hands on Damien's shoulder. "But that doesn't mean we should be like them. We shouldn't, Dame. True power comes from an unwillingness to follow the paved route. We have to be better."

Finally, Damien calmed, turning his face away as he tried to wipe the tears away from his eyes. "Sure."

Keilan studied him for a few moments before he finally spoke. "Why don't we take some time away from all this? This war. This suffering. Let's go have a vacation. I'll make scrambled eggs the way you like it."

Damien choked out a laugh. "Yeah, okay."

"I can't believe we've all forgotten what just happened."

Gray opened his mouth to say something but was cut off as the world trembled, the ambient energies toiling and roiling in agitation.

And then everything turned white.

***

Spirit lords were the ultimate weapons, a strategic asset required to be considered at least a mid-level kingdom. Their presence was such that the only response whatsoever that could have any chance of countermanding an assault was to send in your own Spirit lord in opposition.

A war that resulted in the deployment of Spirit lords was a war that was almost certain to end in a 'mutually assured destruction' kind of scenario. If you were lucky enough to come out the victor, it would be without a leg and an arm, as it was nigh impossible to come out unscathed in a war that saw the participation of Spirit lords.

That was why it was well known that, when deploying Spirit lords against another Kingdom, make sure to have far more than your opposition, enough to serve as deterrence at best and a way to mitigate the damages if it, unfortunately, devolved into an unavoidable situation.

Their worth was such that nationwide celebration could be thrown just for the ascent of a new Spirit lord. And a nation could see a drastic decline at best or total annihilation at worst if their Spirit lord protectors were killed. That was what led to the rapid expansion of the Solarian Empire during the previous grand war and the subsequent skirmishes that took place afterward.

Solaris knew what he did when he started his war. Instead of fighting an endless battle to slowly whittle down his enemies, he had instead destroyed enough troops that their devastating loss had surely led to the appearance of the Spirit lord leaders, and when those came, he'd destroyed them too. This had led to a lot of nations being deprived of their protectors, leaving them ripe for the taking. A lot more of this had seen the man conquer almost a third of the continent.

After the war, kingdoms who should have been wise enough to lick their wounds and go home, decided to get into skirmishes with the Solarians as they were baited out by fear of an invasion. Camlen was a prime example of this, and would immediately fallen if there hadn't been a Spirit lady heir to the throne after the ambush of their previous ruler.

Gandor and the new Camlen rulers, after realizing the strategy Solaria was playing, decided to adopt their own: that of deterrence.

The knowledge that a greater force was standing behind the two kingdoms immediately led to the cautious withdrawal of the Solarians.

But overall, one thing was very certain: when there was war, there was surely to be a rise in the ascent of Spirit lords.

Merene dashed to the left, avoiding the blood daggers that were aimed at her from a winged defiled.

This one was a true defiled, a Monarch-level one, not the human-looking ones taken from conquered cities.

She dashed forward, substituting her usual flame sword for a whip. Her opponent managed to avoid a direct hit but still took a glancing touch to the wing. Lucky me.

Her approach to the downed abomination was soon stalled as she was immediately attacked by a dozen human abominations, these ones lacking any form of weaponry other than their crazed ferocity and numbers. Luckily, her construct was there, circling her and consuming the defiled blocking her path..

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Although she felt bad for the deaths of those people, as most of them had been civilians who had been turned against their will into abominations, she didn't let their unfortunate situation cloud her judgment. These weren't human any longer, they weren't even creatures of life, just creatures controlled by their hunger and an unending level of stamina.

And her death would follow if she brought hesitation to this battlefield.

Soon enough, her construct had managed to clear a path for her, bringing her the full view of her opponent already on its feet, sharp, deadly claws aimed at her as well as the daggered wings.

Instead of withdrawing her whip back to its usual sword shape, she left it like that, pouring more energy into it as its flaming intensity slowly began heating the air.

She didn't give it the chance to attack. Her whip snapped out in a flaming blaze that left behind after images, catching the abomination in the wing as it shifted it to shield its body. The result was a loud shriek as a part of the wing was torn off, falling to the ground in a crimson puddle of blood.

By now, she already knew that these creatures, the original ones, were capped at the early Monarch tier. All of them. This was bad luck for the people at the early Monarch and below; but for those already above? They were practically child's play. The only way they could hope to defeat her was if she was swarmed. And she had her construct here to mitigate that.

Another lash of her whip saw another wing also reduced back to a puddle of blood, and a third removed its head.

Immediately the defiled collapsed, other defiled—the human ones—rushed toward its body, a feast beginning as they began tearing chunks off of its corpse and stuffing it into their mouths.

Merene grimaced. This was one of the most bizarre things that they were known for. And the weirdest thing was that they weren't just doing it to quell their unending hunger, it was for an, admittedly, good reason.

Feeding on the corpse of an original defiled granted the lower ones with more power, not enough to contend with a Monarch, though, just powerful enough to see any lord realm pushed to the brink if they wanted to come out alive.

This was always a pain to the Monarch sent out to deal with them.

Luckily, they weren't going to survive past this. Making sure her construct was nearby, Merene brought both her palms together, the air beginning to heat far more than before as she began condensing her fire essence. This went on for a few seconds as even she began feeling the heat generated from her own flames, yet she continued condensing, her eyes locked on the dozens and dozens of defiled as they all piled on the body of the original, all wanting a piece of it.

Her energy well was already a bucket full remaining when she felt the ball of fire couldn't take any more energy, so she released it.

The moment the ball of inferno left her hands, Merene ran. Not toward the feasting creatures, but opposite them.

Strained as she was, she knew she couldn't get the swarms of defiled away from her long enough to escape the explosion that was sure to follow, so she devoted what little energy she had left to her serpentine construct, watching as its shape grew a little bit larger and its flame a little bit hotter. Luckily, that was enough to get her far out of the way before the world rocked—the atmosphere turning to day for a moment—and then she was thrown forward like a rag doll.

Her head rang, and her vision blurred as she struggled through the shockwave-induced concussion. In the back of her mind, she knew in a second or more she was going to be swarmed by hundreds of those creatures, and she tried to get up before her death came.

Unfortunately, that was proving difficult at the moment as even her body refused to move, her body feeling a sort of weight when suddenly, her vision darkened.

***

When Merene finally opened her eyes, her first thought was that 'why was everywhere so quiet?' And when her brain was finally functioning enough to take in her surroundings, she realized that she was longer on the battlefield.

'Where am I?' she thought. 'Am I dead?'

Studying her surroundings, the first thought that came to her mind if she had any words for it: Fog. Everywhere was covered in fog so thick she couldn't even see what she was balanced on. It saturated everywhere, like the entire place was made of dense clouds.

The next thing, though, shook her to the core. Soo much power!...

The Cosmo energy in this place was on a new height, one even she was certain no Spirit lord had. A lower being would have been killed a thousand times just from the sheer energy in the air.

'Come to think of it, why am I not dead?' she thought, her eyes looking down on her skin and seeing it perfectly fine. Infact, she could only sense the energy mentally, not physically, like how she usually did. It was like a dense layer of something was protecting her from—

Her eyes widened as she realized where she was.

"Good," a voice came to her then, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "You Have Finally Realized. Congratulations Are In Order, Merene Danker."

Immediately, she bowed. "I greet the World Spirit."

The Spirit who owned her planet ignored her greeting, "I Will Be Lessening The Protection Around You So As To Increase Your Connection With The Ambient Cosmo. Make A Wise Use Of It." And then she felts its direct attention immediately shift away from her.

Merene took in a nervous breath as she finally took in the place every Monarch sure to ascend into Spirit lord eventually appeared. She didn't know what it was called, just that it was a place of power so immense it could see her dead simply by its presence. Thankfully, like every Monarch who had any hope of ascending, she'd already prepared for this. Sort of...

She felt the cocoon layers of energy peel away from her, leaving only a thin layer remaining, enough to leave her protected without the comfort of been shielded from the pressure radiating from the ambient Cosmo energy.

Despite her protection, she knew that a single mistake would see her dead before she could even so much as blink. Ironically, that thought seemed to give her a measure of calm. Atleast she'd be dead before she knew it.

No Essence wielder, not even the Spirit lords, had the mental capacity to control the essence saturating this place on their own. It was too complex a task to be done without an outside assistance. That was one of the functions of the energy layer around her; aside from it protective function, It also helped filter down the strings of essence she would be drawing in into something she could manage.

Taking a deep, refreshing breath, the atmosphere rich with the pure unadulterated essence of air, Merene made herself comfortable.

And then she got to work.

***

Merene sat, rivers of sweats pouring down her body. Her head felt heavy and completely stuffed in a way she couldn't fully understand, like someone had taken a hammer and used her head to play 'slam the ball'. Her eyes refused to clearly focus despite her efforts. And yet, she felt extremely happy, a satisfied smile on her lips.

Before her was a spitting image of herself, this time only made of flames. The hair, instead of a raven black that was usually tied into a ponytail, was instead made of a swirling, sea of fire that swept down over the shoulders. She could have left it a simple black, as before, but she'd just liked the eerie way other Spirit lords Astral images hairs swirled. Like the grey eyed demon.

The eyes were most attention drawing, and the most scariest, in her opinion. An iris of deep, flaming, molten red, like a doorway into a realm of neverending swirling flames. It was then wrapped in a sclera so black it would have made the color black seem shabby in comparison.

Her skin was charcoal black, which accentuated her flaming hair and eyes more. She was clothed in a simple black material that only covered her upper body, as well as dull glowing bracers that protected her lower arms, leaving her toned muscles in full view.

A black gorget, matching the upper armor, shrouded the neck from any attack that was sure to aim there.

And on her lower body was nothing but a black-red flaming skirt that danced in the air, tiny strands of fire lashing out every few seconds. Her legs weren't any different, covered in an obsidian glass-like scaled boot that rose up to her knee.

Overall, she knew that she looked intimidating, extremely so, and she couldn't wait to summon the image in battle.

Finally, now that she was done with the creating part, it was time to finally bond with it.

With her last remaining shred of mental will, Merene drew the image into her, space lessening between them as it seemed to move despite still sitting immobile in its position. Soon, it was so close that Merene felt the power radiating out from it, the strength of a Spirit lord. And then it sank into her body.

And Merene Ascended.

***

For the second time Merene opened her eyes, and this time she saw that she was finally back on the battlefield, her mental strain gone, washed away by the overwhelming power running through her veins.

The power of a Spirit lady.

Her mental eyes opened deep within her newly gained soul space, seeing the ginormous Astral image levitating over a sea of flame and ash.

She brought herself back then, her vastly expanded senses taking in the battle still raging everywhere. Already a dozen Spirit lords — her peers — had already locked their attention onto her position, a sense of recognition and acceptance flowing through.

She smiled, stretching her arms as she soon stood up. Power flooded out from her as she prepared to make an entrance.

And then the world turned white.