Tunde appeared within a room of fire and lava, the walls glowing hot with shining red crystals adorning them. The ground itself blistered and belched as if inside some fire-breathing creature, and the lava pool bubbled with the barely restrained promise of agonizing death to whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves within its embrace.

  It was into that liquid-burning furnace that Tunde found himself, leaping and landing atop one of the numerous floating stones. His clothes were torn, his skin slick with sweat, and a few rapidly healing cuts marred his exhausted form. He stared at the dozens of Corespawns rushing into the cavern, some unlucky few being shoved by the sheer numbers of their kin into the pool.

  A chorus of agonized screams echoed through the cavern as the unlucky ones met their fiery end. The assembled forces of the Corespawns and a true beast glared at him from the banks of the bubbling lava cavern, weapons at the ready.

  Tunde couldn't count the number of techniques he had deflected, each one potent enough to harm an adept or obliterate an initiate. The large form of the true beast, a massive creature with bones jutting out of its body stepped forward, a spiked mace resting on its shoulder.

  Despite his aching body, Tunde began gathering his Ethra, his sore core protesting the harsh treatment. The beast roared, refusing to speak, as the forces behind it pushed towards the lava, trusting their auras to get them across the burning river.

  They were foolish.

  Void-forged lances of dark grey stellar force Ethra shot forth, striking down figures attempting to dodge, weaving between the techniques. Some managed to evade, but the rest toppled into the sea of lava with a splash. Tunde moved with deadly precision, catching the first enemy on the jaw, Joran’s wrath shattering before exploding its head.

  The second enemy wielded a blade forged of fire Ethra, barely controlled as tendrils of fire lashed out. With a dead Corespawn’s blade still in hand, Tunde suffused his surroundings with void realm, granting him the space to move with frightening speed.

  He faced the Corespawn, his blade parrying the fire weapon and draining its flames before slicing the creature cleanly in two, both halves sliding into the flames. Instincts honed by countless battles had him turning just in time to parry a blow from the maul of the true beast, whose toughened hide granted it strength far surpassing his own.

  Tunde shot back, rolling through the air before safely landing on a rock. He tore through the entire room, dodging attacks. His weapon cleaved through the skull of another Corespawn before it could gather the rock Ethra it was forming. Throwing the dead body aside, he moved as quick as a blur, weapon flashing before clashing with the true beast, whose arm was cocked back to deliver a punch to his face.

  The blade shattered with an explosion halfway through the body of the screaming Corespawn, ending its existence as Tunde flipped through the air. Dodging projection attacks, he saw the oncoming true beast, its swinging maul aimed once again for his skull.

  Joran’s wrath clashed against the weapon, pain spiking through Tunde's arm as his weapon shattered. Bits and pieces of the destroyed weapon stung his skin as he engaged the true beast in hand-to-hand combat, landing lethal blows that pierced the imbuement and toughened hide of the beast. It staggered under the onslaught; eyes wide as yellow Ethra flashed in its hand. Claws, a fusion of earth and beast Ethra, slashed towards his chest.

  Effortlessly dodging the blow, Tunde struck with all his might, his fist crashing into the exposed chest of the true beast. Its chest caved in, organs rupturing within as it fell to its knees, dead before Tunde even pushed its body into the bubbling lava.

  Few of their numbers remained, dread and terror spreading among the Corespawns as they stared at him amidst the flames and bubbling lava. They were cultivators in the loosest sense, sacrificing the natural arts for the quick power of wild creatures. Tunde felt his body crying out for rest, yet he clenched his fists.

  Taking a stance, his upper body shining with a sheen from the heat, he taunted, “Well? Who’s first?” A shout came from a Corespawn who threw his weapon at him, a glaive covered with dark red Ethra.

  Whatever the Corespawn intended, Tunde had no idea, but he accepted the challenge. The weapon shot toward him, intent on skewering him. Tunde released his void realm, nullifying the Ethra behind the attack, and caught the weapon mid-air. He buried it in the throat of the first Corespawn to reach him, severing its head. His Ethra sight calculated his movements with reflexes that hurt him to the bone.

  He was a composer in that moment, his orchestra and audience the screaming and dying Corespawns. Projection attacks slammed into him with little to no effect, the rest either dodged or redirected. Every move was precise, and every attack countered with lethal intent. His very being was suffused with the battle around him.

  Blades missed him by inches, spears stabbed positions he had been a fraction of a second earlier. He was a wraith of death, his aura cutting through them like a hot knife through cheese, his Ethra obliterating body parts, and his realm freezing them in their tracks. The weight of his presence doubled their burdens.

  All he saw was red—the honed blade red, the red of pure battle that saw every gesture around him result in killing intent. Tunde found himself breathing hard, blinking as he realized it was over. The piles of bodies sank into the lava, the smell of blood pungent in the air. He retched into the lava, the scalding heat caressing his face as he sat back on the rock.

  The trembling of the cave reminded him of the battle between masters raging within. He attempted to stand, but fell back to the floor. Tunde blinked in confusion, staring at his limbs that refused to respond, trembling as he grabbed them forcefully. They trembled too; his breath still heavy as he realized just how weak he was.

  His core was drained and strained, his Ethra lines sore, even Ethra sight seemed to vanish as he swallowed painfully. Here he was, in this inferno that burned as if it held its guardian. He stared at the exit and what awaited him outside—the two masters locked in combat. He was in no state to draw their attention, his only hope to slink away like a terrified animal.

  Tunde reflexively clenched his fists at the thought, surprise crossing his face as he slowly unclenched them, staring at his palms. Had he grown so in love with battle that the thought of running away despised him?

  It was a sobering thought, the realization that he might just meet his doom in his zeal to face every battle head-on. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, feeling the heat and lava Ethra around him. An idle thought crossed his mind that this place would be an ideal cultivation spot for any who practiced the lava arts or fire.

  Now that he considered it, the other guardian affinities would also be beneficial for those who practiced their arts. Except Tunde had left them in ruins, with the dead Heito somehow preserving the caverns as well as killing off the guardians.

  He never did learn how the true beast had done it—killed off the guardians despite how easily Tunde had ended him. He paused at the thought. Well, relatively easy. But he had done it, snapped the feral true beast’s neck, and driven the first claw into a fit of frenzy.

  Getting to his feet, Tunde made his way to the bank of the lava river around him, the bodies of the Corespawns now below the liquid fire, nothing but ash at this point. He turned away from the destruction he had wrought, and then back through the tunnels as quietly as he could.

  All around him, the tunnels shook, the force of two masters coming to blows roiling the Ethra in the air. Auras as sharp as blades had Tunde edging his way quietly around it. Everything in him told him to run, run as far away from what he was about to lay his eyes on.

  It stopped him in his tracks.

  Techniques, as beautiful as they were deadly, lit up the ceiling of the chasm. The bloodied platform where he had fought dozens of Corespawns seemed insignificant as he stared upwards in mute awe and terror. He chuckled softly to himself; it was a laugh of self-deprecation. This was what he wanted to face—these disasters?

  The tyrant released a swarm of green flying jade insects, each as deadly as the edge of any of his blades and then more. Each felt like the Ethra of edges itself, all swarming toward Yumar’s blazing form. The stoic figure of the Sandshard, a drastic difference from the raving Highlord who had witnessed the death of Heito, swung his arm through the air.

  A burst of essence flame lit the air, hotter and brighter than any Tunde had ever witnessed in his short life as a cultivator. It exploded against the projection attack, sending ashes raining down on him as the tyrant moved. A conjured sword of jade Ethra manifested, the crystalline beauty bright and dizzyingly fast. Tunde had no hope of even seeing its swing as it moved for Yumar’s head.

  Perhaps it was because the king possessed the body of a Highlord, or he simply didn’t care for the well-being of one of his subjects, Tunde didn’t know. The attack came as close to removing the head of the Sandshard true beast Highlord as possible, only a gauntlet of bright yellow light stopping the blow.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Ha!” The tyrant laughed loudly, his aura bellowing out, taking the shape of a large insect with burning green eyes. It drove Tunde to his knees as he shivered, his entire being pressed down into the bloody gore of the platform.

  His eyes inadvertently strayed to the dead body of Heito a few meters in front of him, the head twisted at an odd angle thanks to Tunde. He crawled toward it, the pressure of the tyrant’s aura like a boulder strapped to his back as he moved slowly. Truthfully, it was partly to avoid drawing the attention of the beings above him that tussled like rampaging monsters.

  Shattered rocks began to rain down from above along with sand as the very integrity of the cave began to crumble, cracks running from its foundations upwards. He reached the cold body of the true beast, himself covered in deep red liquid as he patted the corpse, looking for anything of value.

  The large wings of the true beast lay heavy on the ground, and Tunde found himself plucking off some feathers, an inner voice berating him for defiling the dead. He quickly shut it down. Where he came from, their dead were simply wrapped in whatever clothing they had during their years and buried with it in the cold, hard ground.

  He saw a void ring on Heito’s hand, quickly obtaining it and pausing as he got up, staring at the dead body. He could hear Thorne’s voice telling him not to waste anything, but there were certain limits Tunde would go to in the bid for resources. Stripping the dead, especially for their core, was one of them.

  Avoiding getting distracted by the battle above that visibly cracked the walls, Tunde methodically looted the entirety of the dead bodies around. From blades to rings, he took them all before turning his attention to the figures above and how he was to escape.

  The tyrant wanted him for its amusement before inevitably ending him, and the king simply wanted him obliterated from existence for killing Heito. Neither could be considered a benefactor. Tunde had a nagging feeling that the tyrant might let him go to spite the king, but he wasn’t ready to place his life in the hands of a decrepit, mad Ethralite.

  An explosion of power sent him running for cover as the tyrant smashed the Highlord into the ground of the platform, shattering it completely. Tunde latched onto the side of the crystalline wall. The tyrant held the king in the body of the Sandshard by the neck. Above them, the cave was crumbling, crashing down in large chunks that had Tunde trembling in terror.

  Pieces of rock shattered in close proximity to the battling masters, as if their Ethra and aura destroyed anything around them in their bid to destroy one another—a most frightening concept. The tyrant roared, the sound coming out like a high-pitched screech as he sought to tear Yumar’s head off his shoulders.

  The king’s eyes strayed to Tunde, widening with barely restrained fury as the king spoke, “Yumar, no!” he said, a confusing statement. It seemed to be the chance the tyrant had been waiting for as his jade blade tore through the flickering imbuement technique powered by the king, Yumar roaring in rage.

  Golden essence flame burned bright again, throwing the tyrant off, who laughed with relish, as if enjoying every bit of the battle. Yumar’s form rippled, and Tunde’s eyes widened as he shot for the exit of the cavern, the layered tunnels already falling around him. An explosion of power behind him threw him into the falling slabs of rock as he blacked out, coming to when his body slammed into a sand floor.

  Blinking wearily, he realized he was outside the cave in its entirety, past where he had killed the Corespawns and a true beast who were on sentry duty. The sandstorm had died down, smoke rising from the distance in the direction of Black Rock. Despair filled his heart at the sight, Tunde wondering if the settlement had fallen and now lay in ruins.

  Had Varis and the imperial clan abandoned the settlement? He doubted it. They still had to deal with the wasteland king, and Tunde didn’t see the master and Varis’s sister leaving after coming all the way from the capital city itself.

  His attention, however, was drawn to the large creature that blotted out the sun with its bulk, casting a long and wide shadow that stretched as far as the eye could see. It was under this shadow that Tunde found himself, staring down the Sandshard whose shape defied reason.

  “You will pay!” a loud voice boomed, coming from the beast that was Yumar, the very sands trembling with its aura. The tyrant, now a blazing green form covered in layers of jade crystals that glittered in the sun, laughed loudly. “You, a mere puppet of a hatchling master, dare speak that way to me?” he said incredulously.

  Tunde spied the glowing green blade in the tyrant’s hand as the Sandshard’s head began to glow with power, the creature seemingly charging up to attack. From the very sands itself, large Sandshards shaped with the element emerged, all imbued with power as they shot towards the grand Ethralite. The tyrant’s blade swung once, clearing the air around him with a single motion.

  “Futile!” he cackled, his technique obliterating everything in his close proximity. But the golden yellow Ethra poured out of the Sandshard, lancing straight at the grand Ethralite. It slammed into the figure with blinding light and an explosion, Tunde curling up as the wave of hot sand blew past him.

  The heat was overwhelming, the intensity of the clash searing his skin even from a distance. He could feel the sheer power radiating from the combatants, each strike and counterstrike causing the earth to shudder. Tunde’s heart pounded in his chest, the thrill of the battle mingling with the terror of the destruction it wrought.

  The tyrant staggered, a snarl on his lips as he regained his footing. The jade crystals on his form shimmered, absorbing some of the impact, but the golden Ethra had left its mark. Yumar’s form rippled with energy, the Sandshard roaring in defiance as it prepared for another assault.

  Tunde watched in a mixture of awe and horror. These were no ordinary cultivators; they were beings of immense power, each movement capable of reshaping the battlefield. He knew he was outmatched, yet he couldn't tear his eyes away from the spectacle.

  The ground beneath him trembled again, a fissure opening up and nearly swallowing him whole. He scrambled to his feet, eyes darting between the combatants and the unstable ground. He had to get out of there, but the sheer force of the battle made every step treacherous.

  Another explosion rocked the area, the shockwave knocking Tunde off his feet. He landed hard, his breath knocked out of him as he struggled to rise. The air was thick with dust and the acrid smell of burnt sand. He coughed, trying to clear his lungs, his vision blurred by the swirling particles.

  In the chaos, he saw the tyrant unleash another barrage of green Ethra, the jade shards tearing through the air with deadly precision. Yumar countered with a wall of sand, the two forces colliding with a deafening roar. The impact sent shards of jade and sand flying in all directions, a lethal storm that threatened to tear everything apart.

  Tunde ducked behind a boulder, using it as a shield against the deadly shrapnel. He could feel the vibrations through the stone, the intensity of the battle resonating deep within the earth. His mind raced, searching for a way out of this nightmare.

  Then, in a moment of clarity, he saw it. A narrow passageway, partially obscured by the debris, leading away from the battlefield. It was a slim chance, but it was better than staying here and being caught in the crossfire. Summoning the last of his strength, he sprinted towards it, dodging falling rocks and errant blasts of Ethra.

  As he reached the passage, a final explosion erupted behind him, the force propelling him forward. He tumbled into the narrow tunnel, the walls closing in around him as he crawled through the debris. The sounds of battle faded, replaced by the eerie silence of the underground passage.

  Tunde paused, his heart still racing, his body aching from the exertion. He had made it, at least for now. But he knew the battle was far from over. He could still feel the vibrations through the rock, the distant echoes of power clashing against power. Taking a deep breath, he pushed forward, determined to find a way out and survive this hellish encounter.

  *****************************

  Rhaelar had seized the opportunity the moment she felt Haruka’s attention waning, his presence being drawn elsewhere. She didn’t care where just as long as the overly confident master dropped his guard. Her bow was in hand, string drawn back as the manifestation of her authority and concept took shape in the form of an arrow. Her dominion expanded, raining down lightning and flames on the enemy forces below, her eyes taking in Haruka's entire form from the top of Jade Peak where she had waited.

  She had felt the disturbing power as well, one that felt ancient and master rank, coming from the wastelands itself. Her only theory was of another master appearing in the wastelands through a nexus key, but Rhaelar knew there was nothing of worth within these parts for a master.

  Still, it had bought her a valuable chance she took advantage of, releasing the arrow and watching the projection technique tear through the air, leaving flames along its path to destruction. Haruka saw it, the master swinging his crude but soulbound weapon as it crashed into the attack, tearing the air around them apart.

  Rhaelar was next to him, her iron fan swinging through the air as they heralded a rush of Blitzfire, Haruka shielding his body with his aura as he was pushed backward. She molded her projection technique into the form of a large serpent of fire and lightning, the creature with its limited sentience roaring in challenge before diving down at the king.

  Haruka responded with a roar of his own, a challenge even as his aura took the shape of a large human, grabbing the serpent that coiled around its form, seemingly attempting to constrict it. “They send a child to do their work?” Haruka asked softly. Rhaelar smiled. “You didn’t expect he’d come, did you?” she answered before swinging her fan again.

  This time, the lightning erupted close to Haruka, who grunted, the power rippling through his aura shield, attempting to crush it. Around them, their dominions fought with reckless abandon, tearing through the landscape and anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in its path.

  She could feel Varis, like a blazing bonfire, tearing through the forces of the king with relative ease. With no Highlord to oppose him, he was steadily reducing their numbers at a staggering rate with each technique he unleashed. Haruka could feel it too, she knew, and yet the master knew well enough that to ignore her was to court death.

  “Another threat besieges us!” he snarled. “Oh dear, running away, are we?” Rhaelar teased as her armor glinted, deflecting a blow from Haruka. If this had been a test for her, then Haruka was a poor example. He had enough power to cement his position among the upper clans of the empire. Too bad he wasn’t meant to exist in the first place.

  Rhaelar frowned a moment later as reality wobbled around her, her eyes wide as she released a defensive construct from her void ring in the blink of an eye. It was a large metal creature, forged by one of the few artificers in the clan’s pockets and bestowed upon her by her father when she had advanced to Highlord.

  It was a tier 6 or master rank construct, capable of withstanding punishing levels of attacks from masters. It caved the moment Haruka’s weapon crushed it in one fell swoop. “Impossible,” Rhaelar said as she watched the defensive construct fall to the ground below, no doubt crushing some unfortunate being.

  “He sent you thinking to kill a child,” Haruka said as his aura seemed to gain a metaphorical extra layer. “You will die by a king’s hand,” he finished. Rhaelar put some space between her and him, staring at the king in a newfound light.

  “Varis, be careful,” she said through Ethereal Whisper, sure he was listening. “The king has obtained a third affinity,” she added.