Ogre Tyrant

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 86 – Into the Fold – Part One

Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 86 - Into the Fold - Part One

Continuing to read through my Status, I discovered several other important changes. The first thing I noticed was that my two Status sheets seemed to have combined into one. Containing entries that had belonged to both sheets.

My MP, or Mana Points, and Chi had changed to M, representing pure Mana. The value was lower than what my MP had been but the change was not a loss.

Instinctively, I could feel that Mana was tens of times more potent and possessed a latent will similar to Chi. Leveraging my authority, I learned the underlying reason. Mana was the true source of Mana Points and Chi, which were its diluted derivatives. This somewhat explained why my two Status sheets appeared to have been combined into a singular whole.

The Mana entry was accompanied by a second change, M/s, or Mana per second.

The potential ramifications of these two changes alone gave me pause.

With Mana already multiple times more potent than MP, the M/s stat would allow consecutive casting while heavily investing in each Spell.

Experimentally directing the Mana out of my body and into nearby objects confirmed that it seemed to function the same as Chi. However, investing my Mana into mundane stones or plants also triggered a dramatic change from the mundane into the supernatural.

Wildflowers took on explosions of colour and grew tens of times their natural size. Leaves shimmering with otherworldly rainbows and stems dancing gently despite the absence of a breeze.

The stones glowed with an internal light, casting odd-shaped shadows over the ground that made it look like a slow-moving stream.

Observing these changes, I became aware that they were also gradually changing the plants and stones around them.

As a test, I began investing Mana into a small stone to see how much it could hold.

After reaching what I could only assume was its limit, the stone collapsed and lost its form. Disintegrating into an ambient cloud of Mana

Repeating this test several more times, I was met with the same result and could only assume that inanimate objects and materials had a hard limit on what they could contain.

Plants reacted differently. Instead of disintegrating, they expelled the excess into the air and soil where it was then absorbed by other nearby plants.

Withdrawing one of the weapons from my Storage Ring, it was obvious that the intended purpose of my Mana manipulation was to recharge the internal battery that powered the weapon. However, it came as a surprise to learn how much Mana the weapon could contain without disintegrating. Furthermore, upon reaching what I assumed would be its limits, the weapon began similarly purging its excess to the plants. With the notable exception that the plants made no signs of absorbing the vented excess.

In time, the experiments made me aware of a faint yet persistent drain on my Mana. With a thought, I identified Kwan as the source of the draining effect.

Teleporting to his location, I became confused when I couldn’t immediately lay eyes on him. Only to then realise that Kwan had grown to such an immense size that he was very nearly ALL I could see. A writhing sinewy mass of scales and flesh that extended for hundreds of feet in every direction.

And he was still growing.

Resting a hand against his scales, I could feel Kwan’s mind had withdrawn upon itself. Mentally pressing through his defences, aching waves of fatigue and indescribable pain began flooding through our connection in waves.

Gritting my teeth, I resisted the urge to shy away and close off the connection. Instead, I drew more of the pain and exhaustion into myself, pressing it down and seizing control over it.

Little by little the Mana drain began to ebb. As it did so, a mounting sense of shame passed from Kwan's mind to my own.

<Believed. Strong enough.> Kwan stated apologetically, catching me by surprise with his use of actual words in place of vague impressions.

When the transfer of Mana was brought to a complete halt, Kwan’s immense body imploded, taking on the form of a pale-skinned young man with snake-like eyes and opaque scales lining his cheekbones and brow. Clothed in expensive-looking short robes constructed from his Mana, Kwan slowly drifted to the bottom of the freshwater ocean and slumped into an exhausted heap.

Sweeping him up in one hand, I relocated us both to Momoko’s mountain and then set Kwan down on a large flat rock so he could take in the sun.

Reviewing Kwan’s Status, I became momentarily confused upon learning his information had not changed in the ways I had otherwise expected.

Kwan had gained the Mana stat but did not possess Mana regeneration. He had not lost his MP or Chi either. Furthermore, leeching my Mana appeared to have progressed his Evolution by leaps and bounds.

Strangely, Kwan had gained a Technique as well. Mortal Guise. True to the name, the Technique was what allowed Kwan to take on a humanoid form. What made it interesting, was the primary effect of the Technique. The reduction in size and changing shape was just a side effect that facilitated a faster recovery speed. A smaller size also reduced destructive potential, but that was a situational factor the majority of the time anyway.

Confident that Kwan was on the mend, I turned my attention back toward my own Status.

[Tim - Eldritch Tyrant: - ] [HP: 74/74 ] [M: 157/157* ][M/s: 2.4 ]

[Class: Eldritch Tyrant 15. +15 M.] [Exp: 75,482/1,000,000 ]
[Party: Tim’s Party] [Lash’s Mate]

[Bloodline: {Tyrant 3} +1 Willpower.] [Bloodline Progeny: Pete, Suzy, Momoko.]

[Cultivation Inheritance: {Tyrant’s Body} ]

[Strength: 30* ]

[Agility: 10 ]

[Toughness: 37* ]

[Intelligence: 14 ]

[Willpower: 23* (24*) ]

[Presence: 9* ]

[(Racial Abilities: {Hide/Expand})]

[(Legacy Class Abilities: {Hide/Expand})]

[Class Abilities: {Hide/Expand}]

[Techniques: {Hide/Expand}]

[Group Synergies: {Hide/Expand}]

My Evolution had changed more than I had initially released. Not only has my Species changed, but my Class had changed as well. Relegating the former Class Abilities to the Legacy tab. My new Class, Eldritch Tyrant, possessed no Abilities. However, the level appeared to contribute to my maximum Mana at a one-to-one ratio.

My new Species possessed the same Abilities as before but had also gained two more. Eldritch Conduit, and Arcane Syphon.

[ (Racial Ability: Eldritch Conduit.): Your connection to the Well of Souls allows you unparalleled control over the flow of Mana. Enemy {Spells} and {Mana Infused Attacks} are {Drained} of their {Mana} as they approach the Eldritch Tyrant’s location. The rate of {Mana Drain} is determined by the Eldritch Tyrant’s {Maximum Mana} (0.157 M/s). ]

[ (Racial Ability: Eldritch Battery. ): Your presence alone can swing the tide of the fiercest battles, lending power to embattled allies and subordinates. Allies and Subordinates may draw upon the Eldritch Tyrant’s {Mana} to bolster their own. The maximum range of the effect is determined by the Eldritch Tyrant’s {Maximum Mana} (157 feet). The {M/s} that can be drawn is reduced beyond half of the maximum range of the effect (78.5+ feet). ]

After taking a few minutes to process what I had read, I became somewhat confused. The Eldritch Battery Ability explained how Kwan had managed to draw on my Mana to fuel his Evolution and Cultivation. However, he should not have been able to draw on my Mana at such an extreme range. It blatantly defied the disconcertingly specific limits of the Ability.

Silently contemplating the matter for the better part of an hour, I came up with a few theories that might explain it. The simplest explanation was that Kwan's Bond to me provided a sort of backdoor access to the Ability. Another possibility was that my realm was skewing the calculated distance for the Ability.

Sensing a new draw on my Mana, I became aware of changes taking place in the periphery of my vision.

The trunk and branches of Momoko’s peach tree had begun gently waving to and fro, notably out of sync with the wind that swept across the peak.

Concerned for Momoko’s well-being, I concentrated my will to cut off the flow of Mana. However, the drain on my Mana halted abruptly of its own accord, catching me off guard.

My confusion turned to outright shock when I realised the peach tree had begun faintly radiating Mana in place of Chi. Even more shocking, the Mana wasn’t mine. The Mana was similar, even familiar, but it wasn’t the same.

Indulging my suspicions, I inspected Momoko’s Status and discovered that her two sheets had merged, just the same as mine and that she had gained the Mana and M/s stats. Likewise, her Species had changed to Eldritch Tree Spirit, awarding her the same Racial Abilities I had gained earlier.

Concerned that such spontaneous Evolution might cause Momoko to experience the same distress as Kwan, I reached out for her with my authority and drew her onto the palm of my right hand. She appeared a fraction of a second later, eyes closed and sitting cross-legged in a meditative pose.

Momoko’s eyelids shot open and she sprang to her feet, eyes darting between me and her tree in a panic.

Then, she collapsed.

Horrified, it took me several moments to realise Momoko, at least her human...Spirit, half, had not possessed Mana when she arrived. Now, she did, and it had laid her out like a sledgehammer to the head.

I could feel the Mana building inside of her, feel her skin burning.

The trunk of Momoko’s peach tree groaned, its branches twisting like serpents as the ground began to tremble and crack beneath my feet.

Thunder boomed and dark storm clouds began to gather overhead.

Drawing Momoko to my chest to shield her from the rain, I cast a wary eye toward the sky.

Lightning arced from the clouds with furious intensity, homing in on my location with unnatural accuracy. The lightning rods diverted the lightning, just as they were intended to do. However, the forking bolts of lightning were becoming increasingly aggressive. Seemingly reaching for Momoko like the claws of a ravenous beast.

Staring into the heart of the storm, I became convinced that something was guiding the fury of the storm beyond the original scope of the Tribulation.

“How...unexpected...” A soft male voice murmured in amusement. His words cut through the rumbling thunder with impossible ease, ensuring they were heard without cancelling out the roars of the Tribulation. “Perhaps it is the will of heaven? Hehehe,” the voice commented in amusement. “Little brother, let us not be enemies. Simply surrender the Divine Treasure into my hands, and I may consider taking you as an outer disciple.”

“Divine Treasure?...” Even without asking, I knew that he was referring to Momoko and her peach tree.

“Come now, little brother, such a profound Cultivation resource would be wasted on one of such little talents. Surrender it to me now, and I may prove merciful,” the voice sneered condescendingly.

“No,” I replied firmly and gently set Momoko down against the base of her peach tree and out of the rain.

The rumbling thunder and patter of the rain were swept away by an oppressive and malevolent silence.

“Little brother...you will regret this,” all traces of humour were gone, replaced by indignation, rage, and sadistic anticipation.

Using my authority, I relocated myself to Kwan’s freshwater ocean and waited.

Only a handful of seconds after my arrival, my authority alerted me to the invasion of another Monarch. A fraction of a second later, a tall lithe young man in fine emerald robes and carrying a golden straight-edged sword appeared in the water before me.

His long hair was ornamented with expensive-looking beads and trinkets. Each of which radiated an aura matching what I would have expected from a powerful magic item from the other system.

The invader stared back at me with cold arrogant eyes, their dark intensity carrying the promise of violence. “Little brother,” the young man purred dangerously, unaffected by the water surrounding us. “I am a merciful deity. Throw yourself down at my feet and beg, and I will make your end pain-” His brow knit together in confusion.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I cast the Empowered Spatial Anchor Spell.

The young man released a concentrated wave of Chi carrying the Thunder Affinity.

I felt his Chi probe at my surroundings in an attempt to measure his Cultivation against my own.

The young man physically recoiled as if he had stuck his bare hand against a cast iron stove, drawing his Chi back with lightning speed. Eyes wide and face deathly pale, he hastily raised his sword into a defensive stance. “Ah, b-big b-brother,” the young man stammered, his sword wavering to and fro with the uncontrolled shaking of his arm. “Th-this one intended n-no offence!”

I felt a pulse of Chi emanate from what appeared to be a jewel-encrusted silver hand mirror tucked into the sash of his robe.

Before the intended effect could activate, the Chi was immediately dispersed by the Empowered Spatial Anchor Spell.

The young man froze.

“W-We c-can t-talk th-this o-over!” The terrified Monarch pleaded, releasing his sword and slowly floating backward through the water with both hands raised above his shoulders. “C-Compensation! T-Take it! I l-leave the T-Treasure to you!”

“Treasure?...” With a thought, I teleported the Monarch back to his original position. Cold fury burned through my veins. “She. Is. My. DAUGHTER!”

Mana surged from my core, slamming into the Monarch’s spiritual defences in an unrelenting tide.

“W-Wai-” The Monarch began to gasp, losing his voice as my Mana overwhelmed his internal energy and ravaged his spiritual Foundation. One of the Monarch’s treasures activated, seemingly of its own accord, transforming the Monarch’s body into some kind of monstrous hybrid with characteristics of both Beast and man. However, the presence of my Mana, or perhaps the Monarch’s damaged Foundation, had caused the transformation to be critically unstable.

Beyond the deformed bones and skinless flesh, the Monarch’s very being was collapsing upon itself. The energy provided by the treasure fed into a chain reaction that was consuming and drawing power from the other treasures carried on his person.

Thrashing in pain and lacking the cultivation to eschew his need for oxygen, the Monarch’s final moments were spent desperately gulping down water in the hope of finding air.

With one final mewling shudder, the Monarch grew incredibly still.

Anticipating the danger, I cast Barrier but otherwise remained where I was.

The Monarch’s body exploded.

Blinded by the intensity of the explosion, I felt the abrupt absence of the water that had, until only a moment prior, surrounded me. I felt a mighty gale whip and lash at my skin, burning and then freezing before relenting seconds later.

My eyes recovered and I found myself standing a handful of feet from where I had been standing only moments before. Two deep furrows in the stone and silt marked my passage.

Distant rumbling drew my attention to towering waves racing across the barren ocean floor, devouring the open ground with the insatiable hunger and ferocity of a wild Beast.

Bracing myself for the impact, I tore massive sheets of stone from below the ocean floor to redirect and absorb the inevitable impact.

Anchored in place, when the waves hit, I remained unmoved. Weathering the torrent of debris as it pelted and crashed into my body.

Unharmed but still mildly disoriented, I waited for the silt and debris to settle before exercising my authority to leave. Just as I was about to leave, three intruders appeared a short distance from where I was standing.

Failing to recognise their faces or clan markings, I flooded the surrounding water with my Mana.

Disoriented, the invaders were slow to react. Too slow in recognising the danger.

Leveraging my control over the water, two of the intruders began to drown. Flailing about and clawing at the water as they made a break for the surface.

While I was following the movements of the two drowning men, the third disappeared.

He was still floating more or less where he had arrived. However, he had concealed himself using some form of Technique, making him invisible.

With a thought, I sent a fusillade of small stones in his direction, Investing every pebble with the Thundering Strikes Spell and as much mana as they could hold.

At first, nothing happened. The stones would seemingly strike the open water and then detonate, sending shards whizzing in all directions. It wasn’t long before streaks of blood began trailing through the water, carried in the wake of the shards. Crimson blooms announced the hidden intruder’s end. Blanketing the water in a cloud of blood as the Cultivator’s lifeless mangled body drifted to the ocean floor.

Those who had fled toward the surface were still a long way from reaching the surface, even with their head start.

Pulling on the Mana-infused water in their lungs, I began dragging them back.

One of the intruders had withdrawn a large flying sword from a Storage Ring, leaving his companion for dead in his haste to reach the surface. However, the sudden inertia left his sword arcing off into the distance and well beyond his reach.

The water surrounding the closest intruder flashed and sparkled as trinkets and baubles were withdrawn from a Storage ring and activated in a desperate bid for survival.

Forming a spear from the nearby stone, I launched it at his centre mass. Until I was certain what I was dealing with, I saw no reason to move within arm’s reach.

Three feet from the intruder’s chest, the stone spear became coated in a thick coat of ice and promptly shattered into dozens of pieces.

I threw another spear and it met the same fate as the first.

Changing my approach, I drove the two invaders toward one another.

The sudden arrival of over a dozen armoured intruders forced me to change priorities.

Unlike the trio that had preceded them, the latest arrivals were quick to regain their composure, erecting an Array almost immediately after their arrival. With the first Array erected, the group hurriedly set about raising numerous others. Intending to create a Formation, it was unclear whether it was primarily intended as a defensive or offensive measure.

Chaos erupted within the ranks of the armoured cultivators as a new Monarch invaded my realm and suddenly materialised in the centre of their defensive Array.

Wearing only a breastplate for protection over long flowing robes, the female Monarch dodged and weaved through the flurry of attacks with astounding speed and grace. Narrowly avoiding spear thrusts and elemental Techniques from all directions while taking in her surroundings.

Despite appearing completely on the defensive, the armoured Cultivators surrounding the female Monarch began dropping out of the fight.

One by one, their movements began to slow, their attacks losing their accuracy and ferocity as Death Chi eroded the Cultivators’ life force. Although it was invisible to the naked eye, the Death Chi being projected and trailing from her palms stood out like burning torches to my enhanced senses.

As the armoured Cultivators slowed, the Monarch took her counterattack one step further, slicing at the exposed sections of their armour with her long sharpened fingernails. Blood erupted from the wounds, clouding the water and obstructing her surroundings, further hampering the flagging assault of the armoured Cultivators.

Seemingly no longer content to remain surrounded, the female Monarch began dancing around them instead.

One by one, the armoured Cultivators fell. Dying from a combination of blood loss and corroded life force. However, as the final armoured Cultivator was on the verge of succumbing to their injuries, a third Monarch invaded my Realm.

Time seemed to slow and the two Monarchs locked eyes with one another.

The Array erected by the armoured Cultivators collapsed and the two Monarchs leapt away from one another, flying back twenty feet through the water before firmly planting their feet on the ocean floor.

The newest arrival wore long dark silk robes embroidered with arcane sigils sewn from gold and silver threads. Dark-skinned and bald, with the lower half of his face concealed by a silk scarf, he carried a massive gourd upon his back. The gourd was stoppered with a large cork and plastered with so many overlapping talismans that it almost appeared to have been made of paper mache.

The two Monarchs continued staring at one another for a handful of seconds longer. Neither side willing to make the first move and potentially expose themselves to a counterattack.

“Gu Lin, you are here for the celestial treasure as well?” The dark-skinned Monarch asked with a lilting sing-song accent that reminded me of a student I had shared classes with and had immigrated from India.

The female Monarch, presumably Gu Lin, inclined her head slightly in affirmation. “I am,” she replied softly, narrowing her almond-shaped eyes slightly as she studied the other Monarch’s face. “I do not think it is in either of our best interests to face one another directly, Jayesh. What say you?”

The male Monarch, Jayesh, furrowed his brow slightly for a few moments before relaxing again and nodding in agreement. “It would be most unwise. The Supreme One has been eyeing my realm most covetously of late, and I am most certain his gaze is not limited to my Realm alone.”

Gu Lin frowned with concern, squeezing her dark-painted lips together in distaste. “I have thwarted several plots in the past few months intended to weaken my position.”

“As have I,” Jayesh replied grimly. “It is to be expected. The Destroyer does not wish to allow a challenger to rise, after all.”

Gu Lin looked as if she was about to reply, but stopped abruptly as yet another Cultivator invaded my Realm.

The latest arrival was not a Monarch. However, his arrival triggered a visceral reaction in the two Monarchs that had been peaceably conversing only moments prior. Immediately putting them both on high alert and even showing minor signs of distress.

The Cultivator’s combat robes were black and grey with a grinning crimson skull embroidered on the chest. His long dark hair was tied back into a thick braid that reached his calves. The end of the braid had the crossguard and blade of a dagger. No doubt intended as an unconventional backup weapon.

“You will leave this Secret Realm at once or incur my master’s wrath,” the new arrival stated with a smirk and released a burst of Chi as a show force.

I identified the two Monarchs' source of fear almost immediately. The new arrival was a Demonic Cultivator. While it was unclear whether he was in the same league as the two Monarchs, it didn’t appear to matter.

“We intend no disrespect to your honoured master,” Gu Lin replied diplomatically, bowing her head ever so slightly. “A powerful Formation has us trapped. We cannot withdraw until it is located and disabled.”

The Demonic Cultivator scowled with displeasure and withdrew a token from his robes. “If this is a trick. My master will make an example of you,” he hissed venomously. “Before the end you will beg for-” He stopped mid-sentence, his expression hardening as he glared at the wooden token. “You appear to be telling the truth,” he conceded with obvious disappointment. “You will locate this Formation, disable it, then leave,” he commanded imperiously. “If you impede my search for the Transcendent Treasure in any way, you will face my master’s wrath!”

As the Demonic Cultivator returned the wooden token to his robes, another wave of invaders entered my Realm.

Three dozen in all, the newcomers were armed with a wide range of exotic weapons and wore wolf-fur cloaks over brigandine armour. The sight of the Monarchs and the Demonic Cultivator gave them pause. But that was all.

Without saying a word, the wolf-cloaks launched their attack.

Jayesh and Gu Lin retreated in different directions, abandoning the Demonic Cultivator to face the brunt of the enemy force on his own.

Far from intimidated, the Demonic Cultivator’s lips split into a demented grin. “A pack of dogs wish to bite a dragon?! Then come! Face my flames and curse your mothers for your birth!” Extending his right fist toward the enemy, he released a surge of Chi that materialised into a jet of boiling water. No doubt, he had forgotten we were fully submerged in water.

One of the wolf-cloaked Cultivators raced ahead of his fellows and erected a barrier of ice by swiping his hook-bladed spear through the water and releasing a stream of Chi.

Annoyed that his attack was thwarted, the Demonic Cultivator changed tactics, assuming a fighting posture and materialising a sickle-bladed sword from his Storage Ring. “Face the dragon’s fangs if you dare!” He snarled, eager for the fight and grinning all the while.

Three of the Cultivators flew out from behind the wall of ice and launched lengths of spiked chains through the water and toward the Demonic Cultivator. Pulsing Chi through the chains, the Cultivators activated a Technique that caused the chains to begin writhing and darting like serpents.

The Demonic Cultivator’s limbs were bound and drawn tight together, leaving him vulnerable to attack as five more Cultivators rushed forward for the killing blow.

“Fools!” The Demonic Cultivator released a stream of Demonic Chi infused with Fire Affinity. The chains began to glow, rapidly changing from a dull maroon to cherry red before being torn apart and cast aside entirely. Limbs freed from the spiked chains, the Demonic Cultivator narrowly dodged the first Cultivator’s sword while knocking the spear of the second Cultivator aside and burying the blade of his sword into the chest of the third.

Demonic Chi roared to life within the Demonic Cultivator’s sword and in less than a second, its victim was reduced to a lifeless husk.

Exercising my authority, I stripped the sword from the Demonic Cultivator’s hand and banished it to an isolated territory.

Caught entirely unawares by the sudden loss of his weapon, the Demonic Cultivator took a heavy blow to the shoulder from the enemy’s polearm. Before he could react, the other Cultivator on his flank stabbed his sword cleanly through the Demonic Cultivator’s back and out his abdomen.

Shrieking in pain, the Demonic Cultivator withdrew another sword from his Storage ring and wrenched himself free, leaving a trail of dark ichor trailing from his injuries. Before he could regain his composure, the wolf-cloaked Cultivators continued their attack. Furiously harassing him from one side and then the other.

All the while, their surviving fellows established a not-so-distant perimeter. Planting runed staves into the silt and adorning them with painted wolf skulls.

Convinced that allowing the Cultivators to continue fighting amongst one another would only draw my attention to my Realm, I began gathering my Mana for a decisive attack.

For a brief moment, all of the Cultivators grew impossibly still.

The Demonic Cultivator and the pair of Monarchs were first to act. Abandoning the conflict and racing away as fast as their demi-god physiques would allow. Propelling themselves through the water as much by the strength of their arms and legs as their special Movement Techniques.

The weaker Cultivators were slower to act but moved in absolute unison. Rather than retreat, they surged forward with grim determination in their eyes.

In other circumstances, I would have admired their bravery. However, I was in no position to be merciful.

Waiving my right hand, I sent a wave of death scything through the water between us.

Aquatic flora shrivelled and blackened in the Spell’s wake, serving as the first and only warning of what was to come.

To their credit, several of the wolf-cloak Cultivators raced forwards and attempted to bypass the Life Drain Spell by teleporting a short distance forward before the outermost reaches of the Spell could touch them. Unfortunately, for them, the Spell’s wake was just as lethal. Stripping their vitality and ending their lives almost instantly.

Witnessing the sudden death of their comrades, the remaining Cultivators formed a wedge shaped formation and pressed forwards. As one, they released a stream of Chi to power a hidden Formation.

Unsure how their Formation would fare, I decided that I didn’t want to take the risk.

With a thought, I broke apart their formation by using my authority. Moving each of the Cultivators into an isolated position within the established wake of the Spell.

To my surprise, the Formation held. Persisting through the disrupted position of the Cultivators and shielding them from harm. Unfortunately, the upkeep proved to costly to maintain. Several weaker Cultivators resorted to burning their internal energy, buying their group precious seconds at the cost of their own Cultivation. However, it was all in vain.

Any ground the Cultivators gained was immediately lost as I used my authority to reset their positions. Combined with the means to maintain the Spell near indefinitely, it was a matter of when, not if, they succumbed.

Despite the obvious futility, the Cultivators continued pressing forward. Their former grim determination is now replaced by the savage fury and desperation of a dying animal. Making their intentions perfectly clear.

If they could, they would trade all of their lives to kill me. Knowing that was now impossible, they would settle for making me bleed.

They just never had the chance.

The protection afforded by their Formation began to fail.

In a show of absolute commitment, the crippled Cultivators dropped out of the Formation’s aegis and were ravaged by entropic forces. Their sacrifice extended the survival of those that remained, but to what end was unclear.

With only three of the wolf-cloak Cultivators left standing, my authority alerted me to the arrival of another invader.

A giant spectral wolf appeared in the centre of the arranged staves. Its bright yellow eyes burning through the murk with primal rage and hunger. Although seemingly unaffected by the Life Drain Spell, the Spirit also appeared incapable of leaving the ground segregated by the runed rods.

Two of the three surviving Cultivators began immediately drawing upon their internal energy and channelling it into the defensive Formation far in excess of its immediate upkeep. Once their Cultivation was utterly wrung dry, they abandoned the Formation and died.

The lone survivor stared me dead in the eyes, and despite the distance between us, I could feel his unbridled hatred. Reaching over his shoulder, the Cultivator drew the hood of his cloak up and over his face. Fixing a grey-furred wolf’s head over his own.

The wolf Spirit leapt free from its imprisonment and lunged at the Cultivator’s exposed back. However, instead of bowling the man over, the Spirit entered the man’s body and latched onto his soul.

Attempting to separate them with my authority, I was surprised to find that I couldn’t do it. Wherever I attempted to move one of them, the other was dragged along with them.

All the while, the boundary between the Spirit and the Cultivator’s soul grew increasingly weaker. Causing the essence of both souls to intermingle, bringing about physical changes in the Cultivator’s body.

Bones were broken and reknit themselves into longer sturdier forms, extending the Cultivator’s arms, legs and digits beyond the protections afforded by his armour. Fingers and toes tore free from their confines mere moments before his hands and feet did the same. The Cultivator’s teeth and nails were violently expelled from his body by their new thicker and sharper replacements. The exposed limbs were covered in thick grey fur that seemed to repel the water despite experiencing complete submersion.

The end result left the Cultivator with the general appearance of a wolfman from a D-List horror movie with cheap and exaggerated prosthesis. Only, the grotesque alterations appeared to be fully functional and responsive despite their disproportionate size.

Without warning, the wolfman dropped the defensive Formation and raced forward several feet with claws and teeth bared.

Indulging my morbid curiosity had dulled my reaction speed, allowing the wolfman to rake its claws across my abdomen before I thought to defend myself.

Unfortunately for the wolfman, its savage surprise attack yielded no advantage. His claws failed to penetrate my hide and only time would tell if they had struck with sufficient force to have left a bruise.

Using my authority, I relocated the wolfman into my hand and seized hold of him about his midsection. Bathing his body in the epicentre of the Drain Life Spell and denying him the means to escape.

Curiously, he proved incredibly resistant to the effects of the Spell. While not outright immune, it became clear that it would take hours, perhaps even days before he would succumb outright.

Assuming the Spirit was responsible, I prepared another Spell.

Sending, or perhaps only guessing at the danger, the wolfman activated several techniques in rapid succession. Imbuing its claws and fangs with a dull radiance and deadly aura that prickled the survival instincts in the primitive sections of my brain.

The wolfman unleashed a blurring flurry of attacks, ripping and tearing at my hand and forearm with the savagery and desperation of a cornered animal.

Thin trails of blood began to spread in the wake of his attacks and I became aware of a burning sensation spreading up my arm. A quick glance at my combat Status confirmed that I had gained the Poisoned Condition.

Unwilling to draw the fight out any further, I tightened my grip and did my best to ignore the sensation of the bones breaking beneath my fingers. Confident the wolfman wouldn’t escape, I drew upon the last of the Mana I deemed necessary and then cast the Banishment Spell.

I felt a brief moment of fierce resistance and then the two souls were ripped apart. The form of the giant wolf Spirit was cast out from the Cultivator’s body and sent hurtling back into the circle created by the runed staves, like a grey-furred meteor.

Bereft of the Spirit’s protection, the Cultivator succumbed to the Drain Life Spell almost immediately. Stripped of his vitality and life force in only a handful of seconds.

Releasing his corpse, spared a moment to inspect my wounded arm. The cuts had inflamed edges, suggesting infection. However, it was also possible that it was a symptom of the poison or venom that had been created by the Cultivator’s Techniques.

Concentrating further, I found that I could sense trace amounts of Chi in the wounds themselves. Using my Mana to surround and then expel the Chi from my body, I felt the burning sensation in my arm begin to subside.

A handful of seconds later, the wounds themselves had completely healed over.

Confident that I was in no immediate danger, I turned my attention toward the three invaders that remained.

They had already reached the boundary of the territory and had nowhere else to go. So long as I maintained the Drain Life Spell, their deaths would be inevitable.

Withdrawing a suit of magical armour from Sanctuary’s treasury, I used my Mana to resize and shape it to my needs. It would not offer the same protection as my stone armour. However, my Evolution left my armour unfit for purpose.

Donning the magical armour, I felt a lesser authority attempt to enter the territory. Fearing the harm that would befall Gric and Sebet, or my wife Lash, should they enter the bounds of the Life Drain Spell, I blocked their authority and established a standing rule that would forbid their entry until such a time as I removed it.

Drawing the Demonic Cultivator to my general location, I was disappointed when he too proved resistant to the Life Drain Spell. However, it did not take long to identify why.

Hands clasped before his chest and legs crossed beneath him, the Demonic cultivator was furiously cycling the Mana of my Spell to fuel his Cultivation. In so doing, he was staving off the worst of the Spell’s effects. Extending his lifespan and vitality even as it was stripped from his flesh, bones and soul.

The Demonic Cultivator’s defenceless state was a testament to his precarious position. However, I was also aware that he was ever so slowly gaining ground. If left alone to cultivate, he would slowly become immune to the Spell and gain a substantial boost to his foundation in the process.

Which made me certain I would not allow him to do so.

Sparing only a moment to aim, I swung my machete down on the crown of his head.

At the last possible moment, the Demonic Cultivator snapped open his eyes and sprang to the side. Losing an inch off his scalp in the process.

A new sword appeared in his right hand and carved a line through the bracer protecting my right forearm as he tumbled away through the water.

Suppressing my anger, I willed the Demonic Cultivator back to his previous position and took another swing at his neck. However, just as before, he proved too agile and twisted out of the machete’s path while delivering another opportunistic strike of his own. Shearing off a segment of steel from the already damaged bracer on my right arm.

This time, I felt the edge of the blade scrape against my skin. Except in stark contrast to the magical steel, my arm remained unharmed.

Allowing the Demonic Cultivator a few moments to flee, I focused my attention on his sword instead.

Similar to the sword he had drawn shortly after his arrival, the sword contained a similar energy signature to the Demonic Cultivator himself. Possessing a ravenous hunger for power. However, both the sword and the Cultivator himself were a pale imitation when compared to the literal Demon I had sensed within the original sword.

Curiously, the sword appeared to be feeding upon the Demonic Cultivator’s Chi as well as the ambient Mana that was intended to fuel my Spell. Providing the Demonic Cultivator with a substantial degree of protection from the Life Drain Spell in exchange for a comparatively small amount of his Chi. However, despite its protection, the Demonic Cultivator appeared incredibly reluctant to wield the sword.

Seizing the sword with my authority, I set it aside within an isolated territory for later study.

Suddenly bereft of the sword’s protection, the Demonic Cultivator seemed to age half a century in a matter of seconds. The rapid ageing was brought to a halt when the Demonic Cultivator withdrew a strange orb with a dark marbled surface from his Storage Ring.

Attempting to seize the Storage Ring and secure its contents proved impossible. I wasn’t certain why, but I didn’t have time to dwell on the matter either.

Cracks had begun to spread across the surface of the orb, releasing a pulsing dark crimson light. Demonic energy seeped through the cracks, hungrily devouring the ambient Mana.

Before I could even think to act, the Demonic Cultivator stuffed the dark sphere into his mouth and swallowed. He met my stare with a demented spiteful glare. “If I die, I won’t go alone!” I watched his mouth form the words, but it didn’t feel right.

I had been too overwhelmed by anger to recognise it earlier, but none of the Cultivators should have been capable of speaking underwater. Most of them hadn’t even tried. Which made it all the more strange that others had and that I understood them.

Demonic energy began consuming the Demonic Cultivator from the inside, devouring his chi and inner energy with ravenous intensity and impossible speed.

Attempting to end whatever the Demonic Cultivator had planned before it could bear fruit, I took advantage of his momentary immobility and clove his body in two with my machete. Splitting him from shoulder to groyne in a single strike.

To my immense surprise, my machete shattered upon striking the bedrock. Which should have been impossible. However, I quickly realised that the demonic Cultivator, or more specifically, the thing inside of him, was to blame.

As if to prove my point, the Demonic entity within the Cultivator’s corpse clawed itself free from the left side of the body amid a bloom of gore. As the haunches of the creature came free, the Cultivator’s body was ripped inside out before forming the creature's thick reptilian tail. Easily several times the Cultivator’s original size, the bulk of its body appeared to be formed from Chi. Making it disturbingly similar to a Summoned creature rather than a living being of flesh and bone.

However, that distinction lost a great deal of meaning in the wake of what I had learned only hours prior.

Bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Lizardmen, the Demonic creature was covered in dark violet scales and had wicked spines running down the length of its back.

<I LIVE!> The Demonic creature howled, making itself known by forcibly transmitting its thoughts into my mind. It flexed its sinewy body and lashed its tail through the water with relish. It flared its nostrils and whipped its tongue through the bloody water. <Such rich energy! I will feast well and-> It seemed to notice me for the first time and became incredibly defensive, even swimming backward several feet before appearing to find its nerve.

Which meant it hadn’t intended to communicate with me in the first place...

<I did not intend to encroach upon your domain.> The Demonic creature stated warily. <Deactivate the Formation and I shall leave...>

“No,” I replied flatly.

I saw the creature for what it was and what the Cultivator had intended. Releasing it would make me a party to the carnage it would unleash.

<We need not be enemies.> The Demonic creature insisted. <I could be a powerful ally...> It was lying. I wasn’t sure how I could tell, only that I had absolute confidence in that fact. It would betray me, turn on me and kill me, at the first opportunity.

“No,” I repeated.

The Demonic creature was becoming increasingly unsettled and agitated. <I am not a simpering cur to be trifled with!> It hissed dangerously. A hollow threat to cover for its mounting fear. <Do not mistake my acquiescence for weakness!>

“Don’t mistake my candour for stupidity,” I countered before exercising my authority and strangling its neck with my right hand.

The Demonic entity abandoned all pretence at diplomacy and furiously raked at my armour in an attempt to fight itself free. My armour was torn apart beneath its claws like styrofoam under a hot wire. Confirming my suspicions that Demonic creatures and the Cultivation method named after them rendered magical armour pointless.

Tightening my grip, I gathered my Mana and blocked out the pain from its talons clawing at my chest and arm.

Sensing what was coming, the Demonic creature whipped itself into a frenzy.

It didn’t make any difference. Unable to fight itself free from my grip, the Demonic Creature’s seeming immunity to the Life Drain Spell likely wouldn’t protect it from what I intended.

Just by touching the creature, I could feel it feeding on my Mana. However, its rate of consumption was dramatically lower than my rate of recovery. Having witnessed Zhu Min’s training, I was aware of the fact that Daemonic Cultivators could only internalise so much stolen energy before it began doing more harm than good.

From what I had observed already, and how fiercely the Demonic creature was trying to escape, I was confident that the same principle would apply to Demons too.

Aware of the potential consequences of being wrong, I formed several barbed spikes from the ground and attempted to impale the creature to gauge its durability to conventional attack.

As I suspected, the stone proved incapable of piercing its scaly hide, crumbling beneath the impact without leaving so much as a scratch.

Unwilling to risk potential damage to an Artefact, I conjured a high-level magical spear from Sanctuary’s treasury and made a second attempt at impalement. The mana was stripped from the spearhead inches before it struck the Demonic creature’s scales, causing the spearhead to deform under the force of the impact while dealing no damage.

Forcibly injecting my Mana into the Demonic creature, I felt a profound degree of relief and satisfaction upon confirming the Demonic creature’s limits to absorb Mana. The destabilising effect caused the creature to become bloated and swollen as if suffering an allergic reaction. Inwardly, the Demonic creature was coming apart at the seams.

So it should have come as little surprise when the Demonic creature stopped fighting against the tide of Mana flooding its insides and chose to end matters on its own terms.

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