Within his quarters, Tunde invoked his voidspace technique. The yawning black void swallowed the packed boxes and items, vanishing them in an instant. It was as if they had never existed. He felt a slight weight within himself, a barely noticeable heaviness in his soul, a sensation only perceptible if he focused intently.

  “Your soul is still too weak to handle storing sentient items. For now, you must only absorb inanimate objects,” Ifa's voice echoed in his mind. Tunde nodded absently, staring at the blank wall. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and centering his core. A moment later, he opened them, steeling himself as he rose to his feet. A soft rustling from the folds of his robes drew his attention to the tiny Ethralite nestled within them.

  The crystalline insect had grown slightly, its weight lighter, and a pinprick of green light gleaming within its eyes. It gazed up at him with a look he had come to recognize as hunger. Tunde produced a large jade crystal from his void ring, which the insect eagerly seized with its outstretched limbs before curling around it and resuming its constant cycle of eating and sleeping.

  Tunde realized he hadn’t named the creature, despite Ifa’s suggestion. But he felt no urgency to do so, not yet. Sighing, he cracked his neck, fully aware of the celebration happening around Black Rock. Lady Ryka hosted it formally in the name of the empire, recognizing Sect Black Rock as an outer clan.

  He glanced out of his window, observing the merriment on the streets, the laughter, and noise he had avoided by enveloping his room with his aura. His aura had grown stronger, reaching the peak of the lord rank. He was more powerful, and he knew it. His defeat of Chun had sent shockwaves through the sect, and he was sure the news would soon reach Talahar and the heartlands. He had resisted the urge to finish the lightning cultivator, passed out with Ethra burning within him. Even now, he wondered how it had been so easy to see through the heir’s moves.

  Retreating to his quarters amid the roars and celebrations, Tunde replayed the battle in his mind, analyzing it move by move with Ifa’s help. He realized he had simply been better than Chun, a daunting thought that left him feeling uncontented. Was that all there was to the heir of a great clan? Had he reached the heights of their trained members? He dismissed the thought as easily as he had defeated Chun. The heir was just one cultivator in the vast and dangerous reality of Bloodfire. Sooner or later, he would meet his match.

  “It is wise that you have been cautious,” Ifa said, manifesting as the usual sight of Joran with luminous blue eyes. “Are you reading my mind?” Tunde asked. “No, but I can sense certain ideas and feelings within you that I can shape into what I think you’re thinking,” Ifa explained. Tunde regarded the sentient being, who fed on his Ethra, aura, and essence flames, before nodding calmly.

  “I apologize if that offends you,” Ifa said as Tunde glanced away from the window. “I don’t really have a say, do I?” Tunde replied. Ifa seemed weary as he continued, “At the time of our downfall, my access to various runes was limited. I could hardly find one to protect our home, much less our relics. The only rune work left to me was the rune of soul binding.”

  “Tying my soul to one of Alana’s most prized relics was the only way I survived, not in flesh but in existence, to ensure Alana’s death was not in vain,” Ifa finished. “The recording,” Tunde said softly, “that was you.” Ifa nodded gently. “A piece of me, left in the recording in case I never regained sentience,” Ifa said. Tunde sighed, scratching his head, frowning at his hair.

  “You should keep that, you know, your hair,” Ifa said. “I never did like having it,” Tunde replied. “Long braided hair was the specialty of the followers of one of our paragons, a mighty cultivator of lightning,” Ifa mused. “I’ve always wondered,” Tunde began, “why do most cultivators go for lightning or fire or elemental affinities?”

  To Tunde, it seemed there was always an elemental affinity user wherever he turned. Why didn’t they go for more esoteric affinities? “Because they are cheaper, easier to cultivate, and easily fusible with another affinity to create a good concept,” Ifa replied. “Around us, the elements flourish in great quantities, existing in everything in equal amounts. Those who walk the path of the elements advance the farthest and fastest.”

  “Clan Talahan,” Tunde murmured. “A deadly fusion of black fire and lightning, a most terrible adversary to face,” Ifa said meaningfully. “You think I’d go up against them someday?” Tunde asked bluntly. “At one point or another, should you advance high enough, you would either swear soul oaths to them or leave their territories,” Ifa said.

  Tunde turned his gaze back to the festivities. “Then it is a good thing this land isn’t my home,” he murmured. The silence stretched until Ifa spoke again. “As discussed, I have compiled a list of items and resources needed for you to gain the body of the void devourer,” he said, producing a scroll.

  "Where did that come from?" Tunde asked curiously. Ifa raised an eyebrow. "You're talking to an arcanist who reached the realm of a paragon, and you're wondering how I got a scroll?" Ifa replied with a hint of amusement.

  "Good point," Tunde admitted, causing the sentient being to chuckle.

  He took the scroll from Ifa, reading through it. "Heart lotus, starfruit, essence crystal, flame seed. These all seem easy enough to procure," he said, rolling up the scroll and tucking it into his robes.

  "I should hope so," Ifa replied. "Those items were abundant back when the cult thrived. Mere disciples and adepts could pick them off trees and munch on them," Ifa reminisced. "They grew in Crystalreach. One can only wonder if they still exist here."

  "I'll find them," Tunde vowed. Ifa nodded in agreement.

  A knock at the door caused Ifa to vanish back into Tunde's body. The door opened to reveal a servant disciple who bowed deeply. "I greet the venerable lord," she said, dressed in the black and white robes of the Black Rock Sect, its insignia boldly stitched on her back.

  Tunde nodded as she continued, "The venerable Highlord requests your presence." Tunde snorted inwardly at the word 'request.' Varis didn’t make requests. He could bet the servant had added courtesy to those words herself; they never came from the Highlord.

  "Very well," Tunde said. She bowed again and retreated, leaving him alone in his quarters.

  "Well, let's go see what they want," Ifa said within his mind. As Tunde left his room and made his way to the abode of the imperial siblings, he maintained a calm demeanor, acknowledging the bowings and greetings of those he passed. He observed his surroundings until he reached their doors.

  The usual guards outside the doors were absent, as if their presence was no longer necessary. Tunde was about to knock when Varis's voice called out, inviting him in. He opened the door softly, surprised by the bare walls of the once opulent room. Everything that had made the room a beauty to behold had been stripped away, leaving only the pitiful ornaments the sect had managed to scrounge up on such short notice for the master herself.

  Varis stood with his back turned, staring through the large glass wall at the multitude of people walking the streets. Rhaelar was nowhere in sight. Tunde stopped a few meters from him, bowing at the waist as he spoke softly, “I greet the Highlord.” A subtle nudge of aura came from Varis, and Tunde’s eyes widened as he crashed to his knees, head bowed.

  “Forgive me, I greet the venerable master,” he corrected himself, hearing a chuckle from Varis.

  “I daresay that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you greet with genuine heartfelt respect,” the newly advanced master said.

  Tunde bowed lower. “It is beneath a child of the stars and void to bow this low,” Ifa’s voice murmured in his mind, but Tunde ignored him. “The sect, no, I, owe you a lot,” Tunde said calmly, feeling Ifa’s irritation within him.

  “True,” Varis simply said, sitting on a chair, crossing his legs, and tapping his fingers on the armrest. “Sit up straight, lord,” the master commanded with a gruff hint of respect in his voice.

  Tunde did so, his eyes meeting Varis’s intense gaze, which seemed to pierce his soul. “Where did you get that…thing from?” Varis asked, referring to the Ethralite within Tunde’s robes.

  “Be careful,” Ifa’s warning voice echoed in his head. “Within the jade garden in the wastelands,” Tunde replied truthfully.

  “A valuable resource for your clan’s growth, the garden I mean,” Varis said. Tunde nodded.

  “You know what it is, correct?” Varis asked. “An Ethralite, the same as the tyrant,” Tunde replied, and Varis nodded slightly.

  “And judging by the way it clings to you, I believe you have bonded with it. Wise,” the master said before shifting his gaze away from the creature. “You will need to be careful, though. Many cultivators would kill to have a bonded Ethralite, especially one that, as I suspect, contains a portion of a grand Ethralite within its existence,” Varis warned.

  “Existence?” Tunde asked, confused. Varis waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing you should concern yourself with for now,” he replied. Ifa remained silent, apparently agreeing with Varis.

  “You, however, have impressed not just me but the clan itself through my sister,” Varis began, a cold feeling running through Tunde’s body. Had he drawn the attention of the imperial clan through his actions? Was he, and by extension, Black Rock now at risk? Varis saw the look on his face and chuckled.

  “Calm yourself,” he said.

  "I say it purely as admiration, although our admiration comes with a lot of responsibilities," Varis continued. "Black Rock is now an outer sect of the Talahan clan, which means responsibilities not just to the clan but to the empire as a whole."

  "Responsibilities the empire will pass through me to you, seeing as I am now the patron of Black Rock," Varis stated. Tunde hesitated. "Pardon me, venerable master," he started, "but have you discussed this with Lady Ryka?" She was in a better position to understand and work with the empire and clan to maintain Black Rock’s status.

  "Yes, but since you are the face of the sect, it is only right you understand what is happening. Unless, of course, you have decided to cut ties with Black Rock?" Varis asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Of course, a cultivator of your caliber and strength would be taken as an outer acolyte of the clan itself, independent and free to act and go anywhere within the length and breadth of the empire with my full authority," Varis said.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "And there lies the bait," Ifa sighed. Tunde blinked, "Pardon me, but are you taking me as your acolyte?" he asked, shocked. Varis sighed.

  "You know, for all the strength and power you have, you really are slow at times," he said as Ifa grunted in agreement within him.

  Tunde bowed low again. "I thank the master," he stated. "Before you start planning how to escape my hold, you can’t," Varis stated. Tunde said nothing. "Neither does it mean I want to keep seeing your face every time. You owe loyalty and fealty to Clan Talahan and me. Whatever you decide to do with your time is up to you," Varis explained, and Tunde heaved a sigh of relief internally.

  "Of course, it must be said that should you get yourself into any trouble and bring shame to me or the clan by causing us to lose face, well, you can only imagine my anger, can’t you?" Varis said, storms seeming to flow within his eyes. Tunde nodded.

  "Good, now that we’re clear on that, listen well to my words," Varis said as Tunde sat up straight. "I wasn’t randomly sent to the wastelands, as you might know by now," he started. "Apart from taking out Haruka, the clan had other plans specifically for me," Varis said.

  "But before I tell you, you will swear on your soul not to discuss this with anyone else," Varis ordered. Tunde did so, feeling the soul oath wrap tightly around his heart and spirit. "Never did like soul oaths, crafty things to shake off," Ifa muttered.

  Varis, satisfied, continued. "As you know, the power of the great sects and clans within the empire has been growing. So much so that the imperial clan has recognized our strength is at risk of waning, hence the need for allies," Varis explained. Tunde frowned.

  "What can a fledgling sect at the borders of the empire offer the imperial clan?" Tunde asked.

  "Perception," both Varis and Ifa said at the same time. "The illusion of power, which you have no doubt spread widely by defeating a now deposed heir of the Zhang clan, would ensure the clan’s might is still well recognized by the other powers of the empire."

  "Deposed?" Tunde asked, surprised.

  "You defeated one of the heirs of the great clans and caused them to lose face. You didn’t really expect them to be lenient with Chun, did you?" Varis said as Tunde simply nodded. "Besides, his tricks and attempt to kill you have been reported to the Talahan clan itself. He tried harming an acolyte of a direct member of the clan; there are consequences for that," Varis added.

  "If it pleases you, what would that entail?" Tunde asked.

  "The Zhang clan has close ties with the alchemist organization of the empire. The Black Rock sect will receive the finest grade 5 and below elixirs and pills for the next year," Varis said, and Tunde’s eyes bulged.

  "Of course, to the Zhang clan, this is nothing but a pat on the wrist; they wouldn’t even feel anything. But it’s the intention and perceived insult that matters," Varis continued, overlooking Tunde’s obvious shock. "This should place Black Rock in a position of power, enough for me to begin spreading my influence," Varis said, drawing Tunde’s attention.

  "Finally, his true motives," Ifa chuckled. "Influence?" Tunde asked, already getting a rough idea of what that meant.

  "In as much as we’re looking out for the best interests of the clan, members of the clan are also attempting to grow their own power and reach, myself included," Varis said bluntly.

  "You want Black Rock under your banner. No, we already are," Tunde said.

  "Yes, every direct member of the imperial clan has various lesser sects and clans under their purview to do things they cannot be seen doing or go where they cannot reach due to political reasons," Varis explained.

  Tunde paused for a moment, digesting this before asking again, "How many sects do you have under your authority?"

  "Just one," Varis said. Tunde blinked again, taking a deep breath.

  "To attain the realm of master is to become a power unto oneself and begin to gather followers," Varis said.

  Tunde begged to differ. He had seen how they had brought down two masters, one with an entire army and the other with raw power. "I believe your view of things is skewed and distorted, Tunde," Ifa said. "Few cultivators could claim to have seen masters, much less watched them fight," Ifa added.

  "But Lady Rhaelar came along with a retinue of warriors and servants," Tunde said, curious.

  "By my estimation, there should be hundreds of millions of people on Bloodfire alone. What are a few thousand compared to those?" Ifa replied.

  "This means you will have my full support and growth as we go into the convergence," Varis said. Tunde nodded, bowing as he spoke. "I thank the master," he said. Varis said nothing, staring at him.

  "I’ve watched you hone your fighting style through countless battles, Tunde," Varis started. "It would be insulting to think for a second that I believe this meek act of yours," he said.

  "What can a lord do in the presence of a master apart from being humble?" Tunde replied as Varis rested his head on one clenched fist.

  "And to other lords?" the master asked. Tunde’s demeanor turned cold. "I become exactly what they would expect of a wastelander," he replied.

  Varis raised an eyebrow. "You’ve accepted the name," he said.

  Tunde shrugged. "I intend to take the insult and shape it into a force to be feared," he replied.

  "Good," Varis said. "That is the thinking of a cultivator who aims to reach the peak of cultivation," he said as Tunde bowed.

  “There is an event taking place a month from now within the capital,” Varis began, “hosted by my uncle, one of the two paragons within the imperial clan.” Tunde's breath hitched. A paragon—a height so distant he could only imagine what it felt and looked like.

  “It will be a celebration of the cultivation arts of Bloodfire, a show of strength, and the best way for Black Rock to introduce themselves to the wider stage of the empire,” Varis stated.

  “You want me to participate?” Tunde asked.

  “Naturally, as my chosen acolyte—a position I have kept open for as long as I could—it would fall to you to represent me,” Varis said. “You will be going up against the best of the best lords within the empire from various sects and clans, great, lesser, and outer. There are even rumors that the various cults might send representatives, something I believe my uncle would allow for his amusement, even the technocracy,” Varis finished as Tunde felt his heart soar for a moment.

  Did that mean he would see Elyria? Would she even come along? He crushed the hope; there was no use in bothering about that. Besides, it had been a long time since he had received a message from her.

  “You don’t seem bothered,” Varis observed.

  “Pardon me, master,” Tunde said, “but I would relish the chance to test my skills against the strongest lords of the empire.”

  “As expected,” Varis said, nodding. “In truth, my uncle is doing this to reveal the hands of the sects and cults’ masters, to see just who the prodigies of the various masters of Bloodfire are.”

  “So only the acolytes of the masters of Bloodfire will be participating?” Tunde asked.

  “Indeed. We can’t simply allow any rabble to join now, can we?” Varis stated. “A month from now,” Tunde whispered again.

  “I and what remains of the forces of the clan leave for the empire tonight,” Varis stated. Tunde stared at him. It seemed jarring that they were leaving after countless months together, explaining the absence of the lightning army guards. Varis produced a silver medallion, the gleaming Ethereon-forged metal etched with the symbol of the Talahan clan and coated with gold around the edges.

  “This is the official medallion given to acolytes of the core branch of the Talahan clan, those who speak for members of the direct family,” Varis said as Tunde humbly collected it. “You now speak with my voice and my authority. Show it to any patriarch of the clans and sects of the empire, and they will treat you with utmost respect.”

  Tunde tucked it into his robes, feeling the Ethralite’s curiosity as it touched the medallion. It quickly dismissed it, realizing it wasn’t edible, and returned to its slumber after finishing the crystal Tunde had given it. “You will be expected to make your way to the empire, one month from now, arriving in time for the tournament itself. Am I clear?” Varis asked.

  “As it pleases the venerable master,” Tunde replied, bowing.

  Varis nodded, steepling his fingers together. “You will be expected to remain a lord, despite clearly reaching the peak of that realm,” Varis said. “Forged through adversity and battle, I couldn’t have hoped for a better lord.”

  “Do you really think I’d do well against the other competitors?” Tunde asked.

  “You defeated the heir of one of the great clans. Congratulations, but do not assume for one moment it will be the same with the acolytes of masters who have been given the best elixirs and training. It will be a crucible of sorts and a chance for you to obtain rewards beyond your wildest imaginations,” Varis explained.

  “What would be the main prize?” Tunde asked.

  “The resources of a paragon are near infinite. Who knows what he would offer? Perhaps some high-grade manual or a chance to observe one of his techniques—the list is endless,” Varis said.

  Tunde nodded, excitement in his heart as he bowed once more to the master.

  *************************

  Dusk came, and the forces of the imperial clan began their preparations to leave. The large black skyvessel that ferried their forces was ready to depart. Tunde stood with the sect leaders of Black Rock, watching the empire’s forces make their way to the vessel. Rows of cultivators from the lightning army, servants Tunde hadn’t even realized belonged to the clan, and other random people milled around, all heading for the ship.

  At his side stood Draven and Isolde, Lady Ryka along with the rest behind him, even as Tunde watched for signs of the first master herself. It seemed she wasn’t big on goodbyes; Varis alone stood at the prow of the ship as Tunde and his people bowed as one.

  “Sect members of Black Rock,” Varis began, his voice carried by raw aura, “you have proven your worth in the eyes of the clan and the empire. You have shown loyalty and ruthlessness, a right to call this place your abode. And so I leave it as that, the domain of the Black Rock Sect.”

  Tunde said nothing, his head bowed. “You have been fortunate to be declared an outer sect of the empire. See to your duties with the same loyalty you showed when I was in your midst, and you will forever stand in the favor of the empire,” Varis finished.

  “We hear and obey!” they chorused as one.

  Varis nodded to him before disappearing within the ship, Tunde sighing. “Tunde,” Ryka said softly, drawing his attention to a figure walking toward him. It was Wol Huang, heir to the Huang clan, and behind him near the entrance of the ship stood Emi and Chun—the former still heir to the Cheng clan and the latter now deposed. He could see the impotent rage in Chun’s eyes, a helpless anger stemming from the fact that he had been beaten.

  Tunde ignored Chun, turning his full gaze on Wol, who stopped a few meters from him, his face a calm fa?ade hiding the rage Tunde knew was boiling within him. “Tunde,” he said.

  “Wol,” Tunde replied, matching his gaze. It felt mundane, almost as if he was staring into the eyes of just any other cultivator and not a member of one of the strongest clans within the empire.

  “I simply came to make sure we’re leaving on amicable terms,” Wol said with a slight smile. Tunde tucked his hands within the folds of his robes.

  “There is nothing to fight about. Might has proven once again to be right, and I can only hope it won’t cause any friction between my sect and your clan,” Tunde replied.

  Wol’s face twitched as he suppressed whatever retort was on his lips. He inclined his head. “Some would argue that a series of lucky circumstances have seen to the positioning of your sect, don’t you think?” Wol asked.

  Tunde gave a brief smile. “We became what we are through toil, blood, and sweat. Every inch of Black Rock and its territories was won through sweat and blood,” he started. “It is a feat we will not be ashamed to repeat again,” he finished. Wol grew rigid for a second before nodding.

  “Very well,” he said. “I wish you good luck in your endeavors. You and your fledgling clan will need it. Although, I would advise you to be wary of thinking every other place is like this little haven of yours. Most don’t like an upstart lord walking around like he owns the area simply because he gained the favor of the Highlord for a short while,” Wol said.

  So few people knew of Varis’s advancement. Interesting. Tunde would keep it that way. He simply smiled, tucking one hand into the folds of his robes as he withdrew the medallion. Wol’s face blanched white in pure shock, and Tunde relished every moment of it.

  “They will be seeing much of me, I believe,” Tunde said before putting the medallion back into the folds of his robes.

  Tunde’s eyes strayed to where Emi and Chun stared at him with equal shock, understanding dawning on them. He moved closer to Wol, placing a hand on his shoulder. The heir froze as Tunde whispered in his ear, “Make no mistake,” he began. “You came for me, for my people, and I have let you go free. If you dare to repeat what you did earlier, nothing will remain of you, great clan or not.” He finished with a smile, giving a slight bow. “I wish you a safe journey,” he said, glancing at Emi and Chun, who turned without a word and entered the ship.

  Wol froze for a few more seconds, his hand clenching the sword at his waist before turning and marching stiffly toward the ship, his robes flapping in the dying sun.

  “Oh my, you’ve made an enemy of that one,” Ifa chuckled.

  “Good, more resources for me then,” Tunde replied.

  *******************

  Aboard the vessel, Varis watched with his sister, Rhaelar, an amused smile on her face. “I must applaud you, brother, for creating that monster in your wake,” she said.

  Varis allowed himself a smile. “I merely improved on what was there. He has the making of an asura,” he replied.

  “About that,” she started, “you do know they will attempt to recruit him to their cause, right? Especially since his battle art bears the name within it.”

  “He doesn’t have the innate bloodlust of those who follow the path,” Varis replied, nodding. “But he will need it for the tournament,” he said as they both watched the settlement recede from view.

  “I’ll miss this place, though. There was a chaotic madness to it,” Rhaelar said.

  “I believe he’ll bring it,” Varis said with a smile, turning away.