Varis was a flurry of deadly movements in the air, his blade whipping up a storm of techniques that rampaged through the air towards Kugan. Both saw each other and desired the complete obliteration of the other from the air. His core pumped Ethra through his body as Varis calmly picked apart the techniques of the true beast.

  He watched the aura of Kugan take the shape of a fiery bird, its screech no doubt incapacitating, if not outright killing anything below the stage of lord down below. Varis was quick to protect them with his aura, shielding them from the worst of it to ensure that they escaped with their lives, at least.

  It gave the true beast Highlord a chance, or at least, it thought so as it struck. Varis watched as essence flame burst to life on Kugan’s weapon, the Highlord swinging it this time with fury. It took the shape of a hundred feathers, setting the skies alight on its path towards him. Varis snapped his fingers, his void ring opening as an ovoid shield manifested, burning with his aura.

  The projection attack struck the shield with a loud gong as it absorbed it in its entirety, Varis returning with a strike of his own that sent concentrated Blitzfire towards Kugan. The true beast’s wings protected it from the worst of the attack, singing a few feathers and no doubt scorching the flesh underneath, judging by the way he retreated from Varis.

  He maintained his position, aware that Rhaelar needed him right where he was, protecting the formation from whatever sneak attacks might come from below. Varis found his eyes straying to the ground, keen awareness of the battle as he sought Tunde out, looking for that peculiar Ethra signature of his.

  The heirs were missing too, somehow vanishing from his line of sight as Varis frowned, drawing his gaze to the sandstorm that was held at bay by the defensive formation that burned bright. They were in there, he was sure of that, all of them. It was one thing to fight with your allies at your back, but it was another thing to be struck in the back by supposed allies, something Varis knew the heirs would and could do if the chance arose.

  They would do anything to secure the settlement for their respective clans, but it had Varis wondering if Tunde could match up to them. The thought interested him, to see just how far the dark-skinned boy was willing to let loose, to become an asura.

  He had laid down the groundwork, done all he could to silently nudge him in that direction for his own use. A battle-hungry cultivator was an asset for the coming madness of his uncle, at least to get what he wanted, something that would benefit Tunde too in leaps and bounds.

  His gaze was drawn back to Kugan, who seemed to be covered in essence flames, Varis tsking at the pure waste of power, wondering how the beast had managed to accumulate that much essence flame. Kugan raised his blade, and Varis felt something resonate differently in the air with alarm, barely holding back his shock as the now red and gold skies seemed to attempt snuffing out his dominion of Blitzfire tempest, watching the very clouds bleed red fire Ethra and aura.

  “Authority, feeble but present, Haruka rises,” the Ethereal voice of Rhaelar said in his mind. It shifted the battle into its true phase as Varis watched a golden glow rising from the distance, deep within the wastelands.

  Behind him, too, the skies wept black fire and lightning, growing in scale as Varis felt his sister truly awaken the power of her master realm. It was a terrible sight to behold, hundreds of miles under the control of a single cultivator, her ‘authority’ stamping itself on reality.

  It was the intrinsic connection between a cultivator’s soul and the fundamental laws that governed the material realm, something he had seen his mother use over and over again to devastating degrees. It also brought the realization to him that the formation had done its job, slowing down the front forces of the king, buying them time to draw him out.

  He clapped his hands twice, allowing his aura to push it out, a signal to the lightning army whose dim roar came from below, watching them retreat in an orderly fashion, much to the shocking horror of the cultivators of black rock.

  For a second, he felt a pang of pity for them, watching as what constituted the majority of their strength began to retreat. The heirs appeared as well, along with their injured adepts who pushed for the walls. “The moment the last of the army passes through the barrier, seal it,” Rhaelar commanded.

  Varis poured his rage on Kugan, swinging his blade as he released technique after technique against the powerful but ultimately inexperienced creature that had only known bloodshed and victory, parrying one of its attacks as it came closer. “Can you feel it?!” Kugan crowd, wings spread wide as he attempted to crush Varis with his aura and presence. “The king has awoken, ha- “it managed to say before Varis unleashed the true strength of his aura.

  Kugan’s avian eyes widened as his aura was crushed and dispersed, grabbed by the raw power of Varis, who held his throat, casually dismissing the punch of the true beast as it crashed ineffectively on his chest. He had played that game long enough, his forces were dying down below, and the true beast who was merely a contract companion of Haruka thought it could match up to him.

  Power roiled through his body as he found his concept attempting to latch on to reality around him, the skies above cracking with pure power before he canceled it forcefully, stabbing ebon tempest through the chest of the true beast who gave a great cry of agony. He could see terror in the eyes of the creature, watching as it realized what was about to happen next.

  The air froze as Varis’s eyes widened in alarm; his gaze forcefully drawn to the distance where a figure with what looked like a large bone of some animal with inscriptions written on it raised it. Varis’s mind and body struggled to break free, to break through, to call down heaven’s crucible forcefully and kickstart his unwanted advancement in order to deflect the attack he could see looming over him.

  It was futile. Even as Kugan grinned maliciously, Varis confirmed it was futile, “Now you die.” The true beast still under the aura and control of Varis, croaked as it coughed blood. Varis felt rage through his body, not one of a man about to die, but one of embarrassment, aware of the shame he would face after this. A chuckle came through his mind in the few seconds between all these, “all you simply needed to do was ask baby brother,” Rhaelar’s voice said.

  When the swing of the king crashed into the air in the far distance, tearing through air and land towards him, Varis knew that those in its path would be obliterated, no two ways about it. In the usual terrible ways of masters, the attack infused authority as well as Ethra in their surroundings, leaving a trail of absolute destruction in its wake. The darkened skies above and behind him released a being wreathed in pure black fire and white lightning, white crackling eyes and a stretched smile that looked too evil to be human.

  In its hand was a bow Varis had seen and watched for countless years rise, its strings drawn back even as a black flame arrow that crackled with lightning that sheathed its entire form manifested, burning bright. It took a wall of fire and lightning with it as it was released, the arrow screaming through the air, propelled by black essence flame till it crashed into the golden wall of raw energy that took the outline of some sort of roaring beast.

  “I want you to watch” Varis whispered as he twisted the blade within Kugan, inching it closer to the core of the Highlord, “watch your so-called king rise, call to him, stretch our hand in need, it will be the last sight you’ll see, filthy beast” he finished before unleashing his Ethra within the creature.

  Kugan went up in a column of Blitzfire, burning like a bright morning star as Varis felt the gaze of Haruka and the other Highlord settle on him. Varis felt that palpable rage and heard the screams of anguish from the forces of the true beast below as he flung the charred and smoking body of the Highlord into the air, watching it fall to the ground in the distance, no doubt to be covered by the sandstorm that was already receding.

  Watching as the figure next to Haruka, the once tier 4 or lord realm creature he had fought with the servant of the herald, roared into the very skies, the king simply staring at him with cold eyes. Varis vanished into the barrier, the gates of the settlement closing as he found himself hoping that Tunde made it back behind the gates.

  Those outside its safety would not have an easy death.

  ******************************

  "To tread the path of the Asura is to embrace the duality of strength and fury. Those who walk this crimson trail wield power that can sunder mountains and silence armies, for within them burns the fire of relentless battle and indomitable will. Yet, beware, for with such strength comes the shadow of unyielding rage. An Asura's greatest victory lies not in the conquest of foes but in the mastery of their own tempestuous heart. Only by tempering wrath with wisdom can they avoid the fate of becoming a monster in their quest to reach the pinnacle of power." – old manuscript

  Tunde had no idea why he had chosen the name for his battle art, forsaking the art of the flowing fists. It didn’t matter, not right now, not when he fought for his very life against a peak tier 4 true beast that wanted to tear him limb from limb. His breathing came into play as he sank himself further and further into the fight.

  He let instincts honed from the countless training sessions with the Highlord take control, drowning out the noise all around him. The sandstorm, the Highlords that battled above them, blanketing the very skies with their Ethra and aura, even the masters that would inevitably clash. None of it mattered, not to him, only the battle right here and now did.

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  Ethra sight followed every move she made, every slight gesture, and while the tempting thought came to him to simply end it with the fang, Tunde resisted. This was his battle, taking a cut to his arm, stifling the pain, and pushing on. Dodging and parrying with his aura-covered arms, he was a blur of precise movements.

  Joran’s wrath ignited on both fists as he went on the attack, the both of them zipping around in the sandstorm, Ethra sight following her with slight difficulty but managing. He was in her territory, the wind obeying her every command as he fought both nature and beast. Void Forge was a series of orbs, tracing her movement as they mostly exploded prematurely, Jana hitting back.

  Tunde was on her, fist cocked as he was about to deliver a terrible blow when she gathered Ethra, realizing what she was about to do. Her shriek tore towards him, void realm taking the brunt of it as Tunde watched the technique slam into him, driving him to the ground. He felt pain within him, not physical, almost mental, but he was on his feet back.

  Now pushed on the defensive, he began the process of deflecting and dogging again, the defensive shield he had taking attacks he couldn’t avoid, helping him maintain some semblance of sanity amid the exchange of heavy blows between the both of them. She fought like the wild creature she was, her movements almost unpredictable in their entirety, yet he could see the hesitation in her eyes with every blow his bloody form survived.

  He was still standing strong against all the odds she had thrown at him. Two large sand beetles shot at him from beneath the sands, Tunde punching through their hardened carapace with the ease of Joran’s wrath before they exploded into gore and parts. He was back on Jana, who wielded her feather blade again, the powerful weapon coming to bear on him.

  His mood abruptly changed. They had been enjoying their tussle, he did, so why did she have to go and ruin it?. Ethra sight tracked the weapon with ease this time as he deflected it, paying attention not to come in contact with its razor-sharp edges. A kick she deflected but pushed her back gave him the space he needed to resume launching void forge orbs at her, Jana swirling in an orb of wind and fire that took the worst of it.

  Taking out another ordinary weapon from his void ring, he layered it cleanly with his aura alone, the weapon barely holding together. The moment her dominion technique dropped, he was going for her, tearing across the space between them in mere seconds as they clashed. Jana came at him like a comet, burning Ethra, aura, and essence flame with the intent to end the fight.

  The smell of blood, the ache of bruised and broken skin, his breath- Tunde felt it all. He summoned the fang, the relic taking the shape of a long sword as he imbued it with his essence flame. The silence followed him when he swung the weapon, staring right into the eyes of Jana as she struck at him, Tunde replying in turn. Alana’s fang cut through her in a spray of blood as they came to a stop, Tunde breathing heavily.

  He turned to her, watching as she grasped at her neck that poured blood, eyes wide. She attempted to speak, blood pooling in her mouth before her head fell off her neck, rolling to a stop in front of him.

  The battle around him came back into focus, Tunde watching as Miria kept cutting chunks out of Arak, seemingly switching with Gisselle, who battled Zephara. The Corespawn was looking for a way out before her chain whip wrapped around him, restricting him as he struggled, attempting to light her on fire.

  Shadow’s embrace created limbs that grabbed at him, Arak screaming as he was violently torn apart. Sera burned with a blood-red hue as she battled with the solar phoenix, the Corespawn struggling against her even as she burnt through the attacks of the barbarian woman.

  Tunde witnessed the horrific work of the jagged midnight on the skin of Ira, her wounds refusing to heal as they bled profusely, feeding Sera all the vitality she needed to keep going. It was a losing battle for the Corespawn, one she realized as she attempted to flee into the skies.

  Sera was there in the air, grabbing onto the Corespawn as the blood-red flames extended to the fleeing Ira, seeping into her. She screamed in pure anguish, Tunde wincing slightly as the solar phoenix simply exploded in a shower of blood and parts. Sera landed on the bloodied ground, staring at Tunde with a triumphant grin on her face.

  He nodded, swaying slightly as he turned his gaze to Giselle, who had somehow wrestled Zephara to the ground, helped by Miria as well. The Corespawn was the last of her group, something even she recognized with horror as she attempted to flee, her wings broken by Sera. Tunde glanced at the body of Jana, his relic absorbing all the vitality and Ethra within her.

  He took tentative steps towards his team, holding a core of red and gold Ethra in his hand. Pointing it at Zephara, he spoke softly, almost tired, “This is all that’s left of Jana,” he said as Zephara’s eyes widened, “and it could be all that’s left of you too if you don’t start talking,” he demanded harshly.

  The skies suddenly bloomed with the overwhelming power of Kugan, Tunde feeling it grating deep inside his body, the power throwing them off guard. And then it was something else, something terribly harsh and powerful that had Tunde’s bones shaking with fear. Gritting his teeth, he watched as the beaten Corespawn broke out in laughter.

  “He rises!” she screamed, “the king rises!” Giselle’s foot crashed down on her skull, dazing her before Sera conjured a spear of blood out of nowhere, stabbing it into the chest of the Corespawn, ending her life. Still, the power that kept growing and growing permeated their minds, driving them to panic.

  “What is that?” Miria asked, her features blanched. “The king,” Sera said as she swallowed nervously. Tunde shook his head. “Back to the stronghold, now!” he shouted as they pushed, running at full sprint.

  Two thunderous claps from above them drew his attention, the sandstorm seemingly dying down as a burning body tore through the air above like a comet, crashing into a crater on the ground in the distance behind them with an explosion. Tunde ignored it, as did the rest, their eyes drawn to the lightning army of the empire that ran full speed back to the walls of the stronghold itself.

  His breath audible, bone tired, muscles screaming in pain and still recuperating, he nonetheless pushed himself ahead, feeling another terrible power beginning to build up right ahead of them. Rhaelar was preparing to meet with the king, it would seem, Tunde feeling some sort of hope from it.

  The power of the king was not one he hoped to take on, or any of them could if he was frank with himself.

  Two or three powerful techniques were all it would take to obliterate black rock and leave it a smoldering ruin. Instead, the constant explosions coming from the Ethra cannons on the walls assured him that the rock still stood. As they pushed ever closer, Tunde felt a rush of power from behind him, watching three figures push past them, one slamming into him with force as he stumbled.

  The grinning visage of Chun as he pushed past him along with Emi and Wol had his temper boiling. They looked pristine, as if the battle had somehow avoided them, but he couldn't care less. The gates loomed in front of him, Miria, Sera, and Giselle passing through as he pumped faster, attempting to make it.

  He felt a violent force seize him; Tunde confused as Miria glanced back at him also in confusion.

  [Warning!: item [void anchor] is transporting you to the position of the receiver!] Ifa wrote out.

  Confusion seized him in that moment, void anchor, receiver, none of those words or terms made sense to him. Then he saw them atop the wall, Chun crouching as he smiled at him, realization dawning on him at that moment. Rage danced within his eyes as Tunde felt the force attempting to yank him away.

  He pitted his entire willpower against it, struggling as he found it hard to even move a muscle, Miria struggling to reach him over the pouring cultivators and rankers that pushed their way through into the stronghold. He was losing the battle, he could feel it, even as he watched the heirs of the great clans frown at him in what he could guess was confusion.

  Tunde struggled to talk, to open his mouth and scream what was happening to Miria, but the anchor won out in the last second. Violently dragged through what looked like a rift, Tunde felt his body absorbing the power around him as he was yanked like a ragdoll through the rift.

  It spat him out somewhere in the wastelands, smashing him into the sand with force. Groaning and struggling to his feet, he found himself surrounded by the bodies of the dead, however, Tunde found himself in a worse predicament.

  Stretching as far as his eyes could see were yellow, glowing skies. Tunde glanced at the bodies and realized most were either creatures of the wastelands, Corespawns, or dead cultivators and rankers from his side. He had been tossed so far behind enemy lines that black rock was simply a speck in the distance, understanding coming to him in bits.

  They wouldn’t outrightly kill him, the heirs, so they had done the next best thing. He would either die out here to the forces of the king or live long enough to make it back to black rock, no two options about it. Easier said than done, seeing as he would have to get past thousands of creatures, dozens of Corespawns, and maybe even true beasts.

  Tunde would have to pray to the hegemons above that he didn’t come in contact with the first claw or, worse, the king himself, for it would mean certain death. And yet, as he crouched within the sands, eyeing the forces on the march for as far as his eyes could see, Tunde found himself considering another angle.

  It was stupid and foolish, and if Draven were there, even he would marvel at the thought process of Tunde. Not many would claim to have had the chance to fight to their heart’s content out here, to push further along their cultivation, tempered in battle.

  [absorbing remnant Ethra and authority within void anchor] Ifa wrote out again to him.

  Tunde stared at the shimmering coin and its other part that lay on the ground, watching as wisps of energy permeated his body, vanishing just as easily. [What is this authority?] Tunde asked the sentience.

  [insufficient advancement stage required for the knowledge of such power] it replied back, Tunde biting back a snort. It all came down to the same thing with Ifa: get stronger or get out. Well, he could live with that.

  Taking out a waterskin from his void ring, Tunde drank its content, slaking his thirst and throwing it back in. He would have to find a place to recuperate before heading out on his mission. Tired and injured as he was, taking on any powerful enemy was asking for death as he was.

  He summoned the core of Jana, staring at it as he typed out a message to Ifa: [Can core Ethra be purified for cultivation?] he asked. [yes] it replied as Tunde nodded. Good, he would use it to finish his healing and fill his core, then it was back to hunting for him, that and planning his revenge on those unworthy bastards of the capital.

  *********************

  “He fought it,” Emi whispered as Wol frowned at her in caution, raising one finger to his lips. Chun stared at the forces of the king who were gathering in front of the formation barrier, some testing it.

  In the distance, the glowing power kept growing in strength; soon enough, the battle would move from a bloodbath to a siege. Chun turned to her. “he’s gone now,” he started, “so far away that nothing should remain of him.”, “Let’s hope so,” Wol said as they turned to him, a grave look on his face.

  “For all our sakes,” he finished.

  **************************

  The gathered heads of black rock listened gravely as Miria recounted the event at the gate, eyes wide in horror and fear at her words, confusion marring their faces. It had been intended for the high members of black rock and certainly wasn’t for Varis, who listened in on them, shrouded from their presence as he subtly left them the way he came, none all the more aware of his presence.

  He floated back to his sister who stared into the distance, no doubt at the looming Haruka who yet gathered what remained of his strength. “Void anchor,” Varis said, “no doubt the work of the heirs. What will you do?” Rhaelar asked curiously.

  Varis said nothing for a few seconds, folding his hands behind him. “It would be a shame to lose him after all the work I’ve put in,” he said.

  “Indeed, a shame,” Rhaelar said, nodding along, “and yet, what sort of ranker he would be if he survives it,” Varis added. Rhaelar glanced at him in surprise, a smile on her lips as she giggled.

  “Indeed,” she replied.