The large building, hastily but beautifully erected for the empire's important guests, hosted the three heirs of the greater clans. Built with solid blocks, reinforced with rock Ethra, and inlaid with metal Ethra, it was the best Black Rock could muster. They were proud of it.

  Emi Cheng of the Cheng clan was utterly disgusted, though she voiced no complaints, not with them being guests of the venerable Highlord Varis and his esteemed sister. Instead, she played the benevolent lady to the peasants who dared call themselves cultivators and rankers of the empire.

  She was astonished by how poor the borders of the wastelands were in terms of cultivation. The fact that they thought simply gaining an affinity and clumsily using projection techniques or roughly imbuing their weapons with Ethra made them cultivators shocked her. Again, she questioned why her clan was so invested in gaining the borderlands, why any of the great clans bothered.

  Still, she played along. The sweet bait of gaining favor in the eyes of Highlord Varis was more than enough for her to accept the clan's request. The Highlord's order had come as both a surprise and an opportunity she couldn’t miss: a duel to commemorate the arrival of the imperial clan to the borders.

  Four adepts of Black Rock versus four adepts picked from the three clans—a friendly display or, in her honest opinion, a show of power to the people of Black Rock, displaying the might of the empire. The Highlord left the choice of adepts to them, his final words causing them all to scramble with greed.

  She sighed, fanning herself lightly as they sat in one of the inner rooms. The walls were devoid of any ornaments, not that the settlement could afford them, scraping by as they were. Still, Emi snapped her fingers. The single male adept behind her, significantly older than her, wrapped his aura around the room, shielding them.

  Wol Huang, dressed in sky-blue robes, seemed amused, his light blue eyes flicking to her from where he sat. Of the trio—the last being Chun of the Zhang clan—she found him the most suspicious and wary. His calm, almost always amused expression set off the wrong flags within her.

  Lithe and with a physique most young ladies of the central plains and capital would envy in their spouses, he was a model of perfection that the Huang clan loved to parade. Chun, on the other hand, was the model figure of a cultivator—muscular and, to her preference, quite simple-minded.

  Together with their respective servant adepts, they shared the room in a closed-door meeting called by Emi. Wol spoke first, opening the gathering.

  “I suppose this meeting was inevitable, given the offer placed by the Highlord,” he said softly.

  Emi eyed him passively, keeping her disapproval to herself. “It is an opportunity we have all waited patiently for, one to display not just our strengths but those of our respective clans as well,” she replied.

  “I should be the one to fight him,” Chun said immediately.

  Emi sighed, Wol chuckling as they glanced at him. “Why would we agree to that?” she asked irritably.

  It was one thing to be blunt, something the Zhang clan was known for, but another to be plain stupid. Wol gave him a patronizing look, akin to what one would give a pet. She doubted Chun understood such subtle gestures, and if he did, he didn’t care.

  “Because of the three great clans gathered, the Zhang clan has the least to offer and the least to gain,” Chun replied.

  For once, Emi found herself mildly intrigued by his words. She hadn’t been when he spouted nonsense all day long aboard the sky vessel on their way here, nor when he fought every single creature they encountered, obsessed with showing his techniques to impress the master.

  “Fascinating. I confess, I did not expect such deep thinking from you,” Wol said.

  Emi snapped her fan, her eyes on the heir of the Huang clan, who rested his head on his knuckles, the same infuriating smile on his face.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. Wol glanced at her.

  “I could care less. We are three of the great clans of the empire. The Cheng clan is the most influential and powerful under the imperial clan. It would be an insult to deny me this battle by right,” she said.

  For once, she saw a flash of malevolent glint in Wol’s eyes, but it was gone as fast as it came. Emi doubted what she had seen as he shook his head gently.

  “Are you looking down on the Zhang clan?” Chun growled, lightning running through his arms as the female adept behind him placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

  “Only because of the specific position your patriarch holds within the empire, my dear Emi, nothing more,” Wol replied, raising a hand to placate Chun.

  “It isn’t my fault that the Cheng clan’s strength speaks for itself. It would be a disservice not just to my clan but to the empire to take a backseat while you two bicker over this,” she said snidely.

  It was crude and unladylike of her to speak that way, but it was all Emi could do to get a reaction from Wol, who seemed impervious to her words. In fact, he seemed to enjoy their little games, something that went right over Chun's head as he kept breathing like a rabid hound.

  "Let’s not deceive ourselves," Wol began with a sigh. "We are all here for the same thing: an opportunity to become an acolyte of the Highlord. It’s a pity he decided to leave it to us to face this… child who plays at being a lord. Frankly, I find it beneath us."

  On that, Emi could agree. Any other day, she would have found it insulting to debase herself in this way. She was the future heir to the Cheng clan and its techniques; she wouldn't sully her hands with some random cultivator.

  "Nevertheless, it is a chance to show our mettle, as you said," Wol finished.

  "So?" Chun said.

  "So what?" Wol replied.

  "Do you have a solution, or did you just want to hear yourself speak?" the Zhang clan heir asked.

  Wol chuckled. "I merely stated the situation. What we do will ultimately be our decision."

  Emi felt herself growing weary. The impatience of her female maid adept behind her was showing, her aura leaking slightly. A side glare from Emi had her rein it in with a near-perfect response, Emi glancing at Wol, who no doubt had felt it.

  "Our decision must be unanimous, and if so, it must be me," she started. "The Zhang and Huang clans simply do not have the trade reach the Cheng clan has. We can extend our merchant allies as far as this side of the border. We control the majority of the merchant strength of the empire. Do you want to go up against that?" she asked innocently, a sweet smile on her face.

  "And we have the most rankers in the imperial army since you’ve decided to be a brat about it," Wol said with a slight laugh, making her eye twitch.

  "We have the best elixirs!" Chun said loudly.

  "Yes, and it’s why you have such large, lovely muscles in place of other things. We thank you," Emi said smoothly.

  Chun’s beaming smile of satisfaction took out the sting she had intended. Turning her gaze back to Wol, she continued. "You might have more rankers in the army, but you need our distribution chain to help. It would be a shame for most of your branches to begin experiencing shortages at outposts so close to the technocracy and greater sea, don’t you think?"

  Emi technically knew she lacked the authority and pull within the clan to enact such a powerful move, but she was the grandchild of the patriarch, and that counted for something. Wol knew it too, being in the same situation. He also knew how much damage she could inflict on his clan. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she saw him sit up, locking his fingers together and speaking with such authority that she unconsciously shivered.

  "And it would also be a shame if I threatened you with the overall security of your transport merchandise," he started. "It is no news that it has become the subject of attacks since the surge began, rising in frequency and strength as we reach its climax. But no, I will not sink to your level. You want it? Argue with the clan whose very ties to the alchemist society your clan cannot afford to offend."

  Chun looked eager to be drawn back into the conversation, Emi simmering where she sat as she tried to hold herself in check. It was embarrassing to have such a conversation in front of their lesser adepts who stood close, but she saw no other option.

  "Besides, I’ve been hearing rumors," Wol said.

  "What sort of rumors?" Chun asked.

  "The type that says this Tunde, whoever he is, had been briefly trained by the Highlord," Wol replied.

  Emi blinked and then giggled, restraining herself from full-blown laughter as Chun snorted.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  "You would have a better chance convincing me that the settlement is strong enough to compete with the lesser sects than spouting such nonsense," she said.

  Wol shrugged. "And yet, not one, two, or even three people have something to say about it."

  "Don’t you find it odd that he would require us to prove our mettle against a cultivator who has surely had no formal training on techniques or cultivation? At least training that matches up to what we possess?" he added.

  Emi frowned at his words, considering the possibility. It made no sense to her. Whoever this Tunde was, he had nothing to offer the Highlord. Financially, the settlement was worth less than one of their outposts. Its only use was its strategic position. She took a step further to assume that he wasn’t some generational talent just found.

  Puzzled, she watched Wol assume his relaxed posture again, turning to Chun with a smile. "Perhaps we accept her proposition?" he asked the Zhang heir.

  "Why would I do that?" Chun replied.

  "Two reasons, assuming she accepts the terms," Wol started.

  Emi watched him keenly, realizing Wol was about to push the narrative in his favor.

  "The first is that if she wants to fight this lord, she has to ensure it is fair and honorable," he said.

  Emi nodded a fraction, taking care not to show how those words rankled her. She had no reason to fight dishonorably against a cultivator she would easily defeat. Wol nodded along, smiling.

  "The second term is simple. It will be five matches in total: four adepts and then a single lord fight. If you face him, you can’t bring forth an adept from your side. The four adepts will come from mine and Chun’s side. Agreed?" he said.

  Emi locked eyes with him, ignoring the satisfied Chun who crossed his arms, staring at her. "What are you playing at?" she finally asked.

  Wol blinked innocently at her. "Me? Nothing, just keeping things simple and fair. I’m sure the Highlord would consider it fair as well," he replied with a smile.

  She saw no fault in his words. However, Emi couldn’t help but feel like she was playing directly into whatever plans he had. She reclined in her seat with a smile.

  "Fine by me," she said. "But you do realize that when I win my fight, I will most likely become his acolyte?"

  Wol shrugged. "It’s like you said, the Cheng clan is the strongest of the great clans. And if Chun or I win the adept duels, our clan will gain control of the border settlements."

  Emi’s eyes glinted, saying nothing as she inclined her head with a smile. The Cheng clan had enough territories, even owning their own city. If she became a student of the Highlord, her clan would have one more foot inside the affairs of the imperial clan. To her patriarch, that was worth more than one settlement they would have to sink funds into just to get up to standard.

  "Agreed. I’m glad we could solve this amicably," she said.

  "Indeed," Wol replied, getting up along with the rest.

  Emi left the building with her adept servant, pausing to take a deep breath, glancing at the black stronghold where the Highlord was with a relished smile. She took no joy in what she would do to the lord. However, Wol’s words kept resonating in her mind. If indeed, the Highlord had taken this lord as a student, she had to be quick in breaking him down and showing the Highlord what a waste of time he was.

  ******************************

  It took Kugan less than an hour to reach the site of his fallen forces. The strewn and torn forms of the lords and Corespawns he had sent after the people from the empire lay before him. Rage boiled within him, his aura heating the very sands beneath his feet. His forces gave him a wide berth, sensing the fury radiating from their leader. They couldn’t have gone far, he thought, rage clouding his mind at the insult they had just afforded him.

  Kugan realized his mistake. Those people, whoever they were, had to be either peak lords or Highlords to have decimated his forces so thoroughly. He should have handled it personally while he had the chance. Now, one of his already endangered species lay dead among the fallen. Fists clenched, he turned his eyes to the distance, his sight extending farther than that of an ordinary lord, searching for his prey.

  To him, it seemed the humans were afraid to forge ahead and face him, and rightfully so. It was a shame he would have to make an example of them. He would take their skinned forms back to Haruka and send their heads to their forces at the settlement as a gentle reminder of their place.

  Spreading his wings that blazed with pure orange and red flames, Kugan prepared to take to the skies when the sands below him blazed with golden Ethra. Irritation and rage in his eyes, he watched calmly as a form took shape, already aware of who it was.

  “What is it?” he said softly, staring at the golden human form as all his forces dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.

  Yumar, first claw of the king, appeared in a grainy form, his features hardly prevalent. It was one of the powers of the first claw that Kugan truly envied—his sand affinity along with an aura technique taught by the king. It allowed him to communicate across long distances, albeit to the detriment of his aura.

  Still, it was a technique Kugan aimed to acquire, just as soon as his aura control reached the heights of Yumar’s. The first claw spoke, his voice heavy with aura.

  “Kugan, how fare your battles?” he asked.

  “Well, the entire inner areas are ours. We can proceed with the march towards the empire,” Kugan replied.

  “All in due time. The king will be free soon enough, then we can move,” Yumar said.

  “Is there something you want?” Kugan asked irritably.

  “I’m sure you’re aware of the death of our forces sent against the spies?” Yumar asked.

  “And?” Kugan said, his voice cold.

  “No doubt, you’ve heard of what has become of our forces sent against the servants of the empire,” Yumar stated.

  “Highlords? They would send Highlords against us?” Kugan snarled.

  The visage of Yumar’s sand replica inclined his head thoughtfully. “You sound offended. Were you expecting anything less?”

  “I sent my kin, a lord, against them, and now there is one less Blazewing in existence,” Kugan said softly, fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.

  “That will be remedied. Haruka has promised—”

  “I don’t care what he promised!” Kugan’s roar tore through the skies, a blast of aura crushing down on his forces, making them whimper.

  “They will pay,” he snarled, waving his hand as a bubble of aura shielded him and Yumar, cutting off the rest from listening.

  Yumar folded his hands behind him, his expression unreadable.

  "My time grows short, brother, but not as short as my dwindling patience," Yumar began. "I empathize with you, I really do. It was one thing for us to be simple, rabid monsters wandering the wastelands until Haruka bestowed sentience upon us. It is another thing entirely to watch one of the few of us die."

  Kugan's wings settled as he schooled his face into a cold mask, already aware of where the conversation was leading.

  "What does the king require of me?" he asked calmly.

  "That you stay your wrath for now. Our time will come, brother. A time when we will lead the charge against the empire side by side and tear down the walls holding us out. But until then, calm your wrath. Do not fall for this obvious trap," Yumar finished.

  Kugan landed softly, his red glowing eyes blazing with the inherent fire of his kind. "We are equals, you and I," he began. "Would you stand still if one of your bloodlines died at the hands of the humans?" he asked softly.

  Yumar grew rigid. "I would, if and when it meant I would have the chance to slaughter hundreds, if not thousands, in their name," he replied.

  Kugan said nothing else, his wings vanishing with a thought, watching as Yumar seemed to relax.

  "Then, you will obey the king?" Yumar asked.

  Kugan merely blinked, waving his hand as a brief burst of power dispelled Yumar's gathered consciousness, watching the sands break down into nothing. He dispelled the privacy bubble as well, revealing two lord-tier Blazewings kneeling before him, wings out wide and heads bowed. His bloodline, his children.

  "Speak," he said calmly.

  The male on the right spoke first. "Let us lead the charge, Father, for our kin," he said softly.

  "We will shed blood in both your name and the king's," the female on the left added.

  Kugan glanced at his assembled troops who knelt in the burning sands, eyes on him. Behind them flew the other birdkind of the wastelands, their silent gazes staring down at him as well. Yumar thought him spineless, that he would permit such an insult to his power. No, he was Kugan the Blazewing.

  He had sworn to deliver vengeance, and a hunt was on. He turned his gaze to his two children, grateful for the gift bestowed upon him by Haruka. Now, every one of his kind born within his line would have the gift of sentience and cultivation.

  "Gather the forces. Push for the outer edges of the territory. We will begin the next part of the king’s plan," he commanded.

  "And you, Father?" the male asked, turning his gaze up at Kugan.

  Their features were not completely human yet. At the lord stage, their essence flame hadn't purified their bodies enough to give them fully human features. Kugan's wings burst forth, the heat resonating through the entire area.

  "Jana, you come with me, along with your forces. Let your brother finish what I’ve started," he said.

  The female Blazewing got to her feet, her avian legs firm on the sand as she took to the skies, wings outstretched. Kugan turned his attention towards the direction of the empire and took off with a show of power.

  ****************************************

  Tunde couldn’t cultivate, couldn’t push his heart to churn out Ethra. Instead, he relied on the Ethra already in his body, guzzling a tier 4 Ethra elixir and letting it circulate through his system, pushing himself harder and faster. He could feel the strain on his body, his relic oddly quiet, and even his screen didn’t appear, perhaps due to his strained mind.

  Holding Midnight in one hand, they traversed the wastes as quickly as they could. Tunde was aware that they were no doubt being hunted by now. It begged the question of why the forces of the Highlord hadn’t caught up with them. He had seen Highlords fight; he knew what they were capable of.

  This distance would be nothing to them if he was being honest with himself, and yet, he saw nothing of them on the horizon behind him, only the steadily growing feeling of dread that suffused him. Breathing heavily, he watched Miria and Sera come to a stop and skidded to a halt himself.

  “Why are we stopping?” he asked, breath heavy.

  “You’re tired, you can’t take any more,” Miria replied softly.

  Tunde pointed behind him, into the distance with Midnight. “If they get us, we won’t have the liberty of resting,” he wheezed.

  Miria moved closer, grasping his face. “Something about your battle with that lord true beast affected your body. You should be healed by now,” she said with concern.

  “Then we get to Black Rock. Staying here would do nothing,” Tunde replied, coughing as he spat blood.

  “He’s right. I will carry him along the way,” Sera added.

  Miria glanced at her before she froze, feeling the power rising behind them.

  “Run!” Tunde said harshly, pushing himself.

  He forced his heart to cycle Ethra despite the almost blinding pain wracking his body, tearing across the landscape as Sera and Miria matched his pace. It was the killing intent of a true monster, combined with the raw aura of a Highlord, and it blanketed the area close to their position.

  All he could think of at that point was escaping, making it to Black Rock, and letting the problem of this true beast become Varis’s. And yet, even as he pushed his body to the extreme, as agony spread through his entire system, Tunde had the overwhelming feeling that they might not make it.

  A screech came from the skies above, a terrible sound that filled his ears as he felt a lord-stage aura hone in on him. It parted the clouds as his instincts screamed at him to dodge. He complied, watching as a cloud of dust filled the air, Midnight coming up to deflect what looked like talons aimed at his face.

  Eyes wide, he saw what he could only assume was a true beast in front of him, half human and half bird. Ethra Sight confirmed it for him. The female-looking creature with plumes of feathers still attached to her face held one long feather that looked too sharp to be merely aesthetic.

  “Tunde,” Miria whispered furiously, glancing behind them.

  In the distance, throwing dust into the air, was an army headed straight for them. The Highlord wasn’t in sight. Tunde glanced ahead; behind the true beast, the first signs of the walls of Black Rock were beginning to peak. Without another word, he poured Ethra into Midnight, the blade glowing before he attacked with everything he had.