Wallus was not like the eternal dark continent lying lower than the abyss; its barrenness was relative, and there were still sizeable resources. Yet the quantities were not enough to entice either the Imperial or Upper-Middle World dark clans to contest violently over it, as their focus laid elsewhere in more important arenas.
Moreover, due to the turbid primal conditions here, elite sages were likewise reluctant to remain long, so with neither Empire nor Eternal Dominion willing to wholly forsake or value it, the land of Wallus thus settled upon a curious fate: proxies arose in their stead, unspoken yet universally accepted.
Thus rose innumerable factions on this continent as war was normalized. Proclamation of kingdom founding, self-proclamations as Sovereign or Monarch were all par for the course here, with even the bold enough who named themselves ‘God’. After all, it was naught but a pretender’s title, an imposing facade meant for lesser men; the Eternal Parliament and Qin Empire, home to true powerhouses, cared naught for nomenclature, however theatric might help bolster local governance for the sake of the ruled masses.
Xu Jingxuan desired Qianye to don royal garb for reasons both diplomatic and strategic—heralding outward legitimacy and marking their first move forward in territorial expansion. Knowing fully well Xu’s intention, Qianye neither voiced objection nor acceptance. Obedience and visions for the path forward could differ between leaders and their followers. While Qianye yearned for power solid enough to lend aid, becoming a sovereign himself—whether to go to the extremes—hadn’t been completely decided.
He journeyed alone across wild wastes where he left that entire matter behind momentarily. In the sky above him, the sun turned more and more dim, its once radiant orb deepening into hues darker, verging toward ashen crimson—as one might witness when a great fire dims into ember. The land grew blurry in its haze, veiled further afar with rising vapours cloaking the distant in shadow.
Suppressing his essence aura to a whisper, Qianye rushed forth speedily—after an approximate run of just one quarter-hour, his strides seized midstep suddenly. Before him on the soil beneath stood a sole military boot.
He stooped, seizing it, inspecting the dark flame infantry’s issued footwear; a layer of ancient fine dust marked its long abandon. Along its leather upper was a deep cleaving mark through to the hide. At the slash edge lay crusted dark remnants of blood. Indeed this had once belonged to an armored soul lost amid skirmish.
Scanners shifting through the landscape, his eyes locked then upon distant rock. Embedded superficially upon the stone surface was a broken metallic circle, the ring itself marred with three faint etches. Approaching said rock silently then hesitantly, hand extended he plunged five fingers deeply into the stony surface momentarily. Moments later he withdrew, leaving behind upon its face a precise embedded hand imprint behind.
This verified all—stone such as this wasn’t hard; this scratched imprint upon must’ve been carved by a beast kin’s deadly talon; the broken band ring must’ve been one from many worn bracelets popular among wolvesman. In the uniquely harsh environs of this Newer World—so soon as outer crust of surface became disrupted, the elements’ slow yet persistent decay consumed traces quickly within days until none remained visible.
Thus also explained why Qianye, during entire chase so far, found nary much that could be deemed trail. Had he came but one day later, surely even the boot and embedded ring would’ve long disappeared without hint.
With two significant traces now found, he pieced together fragments—suggesting the prior passing at very least a scouting group that once fought bitterly here. These scouting groups typically composed joint forces of wolf-kin squads, military fresh recruits, and contracted mercenaries—flexible, designed to adapt and repulse sudden danger.
Deeper into wilderness, his path wound onward when scenery ahead shifted; abruptly emerged from the vapor-tinged air materialized—before, only vague mists obscured all, but now stood ahead an entire vast wood of trees, fully revealed from nowhere.
Unperturbed he stepped forward—so abrupt, the wood appeared out of thin air, yet he had seen phenomena like these previously; the shifting nature of this land no longer roused his emotion. He moved forward without hesitation.
Approaching closely now, drifting thin lines of white mist were visible: wisping back and forth, resembling schools of ethereal fish swimming through air. Concentrating his clan’s ancestral talents to the best of ability—suppressing his essence to naught—yet moving forward still cautiously through several additional steps to bring himself into their shifting realm.
Instantly—like intruding into a tranquil pond—it was as if he’d broken tranquility, a sudden disturbance rippling out; each line of drifting pale mist recoiled rapidly, withdrawing fearfully outward from wherever he intruded.
Qianye’s brow twitched with sudden confusion. Realizing then—his hidden bloodline trick had failed; it was still first experience thus facing this. Truth was, this concealment trait was no mere invisibility, more accurately akin deception technique aimed at outwitting higher power sensors. In many instances it relied more upon the art of perception manipulation—a more valuable tool than simple vision-obstruction measures alone; in other circumstances.
Unanticipated still that strange vapors unraveled this secret talent with such seeming ease, in an otherwise strange new land never explored.
Pausing—stillness. These drifting mists showed hesitant, curious even at proximity, but detecting no peril, returned closer cautiously, with a few inching once nearby vicinity once more. Seizing the chance his hands jettisoned forward lighting quick, ensnaring a pair with swift mastery; each grasping mist wiggled furiously before promptly bursting within the grip of his palm into nothing.
He opened his palm slowly—he witnessed within a few pearly droplets swirling murky in pale white. Gone were the wisps; nothing organic in the water—so devoid was such notion—did these wraiths merely perish?
With his gaze sharpened by innate gift of True Insight—within these tiny orbs, concentration of primordial essence became apparent in startling clarity, like liquid incarnate power. But beyond surging vital energy, Qianye sensed naught inside save pristine force alone; neither remnants of physical form remained, no bone shards nor organic fragments inside; these pearls were nigh purest liquid potential.
In the moment his grasp consumed pair of companions from the cloud flock, others recoiled sharply. In panic scattered to a new distance; many shot inside thick canopy, fleeing their unknown fates. Their actions bore resemblance to small sentient entities, more than the dull unfeeling forces of raw primal nature, like beings of intelligence and life.
What exactly? Could primordial essence possess sentience? Did purest energies birth intelligence itself?
Even as he had grown attuned to the revised laws of nature of this “Newer” World—Qianye still now felt his mind in turmoil at the implications unfolding here.
He gazed down again at the remnants pooling in open palms, thought igniting, and carefully extended forth one crimson-red strand of lifeblood essence, attempting gently tapping the droplet’s form.
At mere contact, the liquid pearl erupted, ignited. A bluish gleam flared blinding, vanishing after a time. Remaining upon the flesh surface was but a clear residual droplet, drawn rapidly up in a swirl as if drawn to native primal currents present nearby in air.
In witnessing all that unfold—it proved to him now—concentrated amidst original vapor, was disproportionately greater amounts of Aurelion power. Was it the world that mankind had chased in quest; a realm that embraced Auran dominion in harmony? Yet instinct still hinted something off. Whatever else may be—at the very least—he felt a profound unease resonances thrrumming through this very essence that surrounded his frame.
Eyes shifting upward once again—the vast tree expanse beckoned ahead. He moved in, resolutely.
Passing through the threshold, an instant unease flickered down his spine—a sharp change from behind. Reflex kicked in—body evaded sideways—East Peak sword swung around without delay. At Qianye’s might, the very motion was swift as thunder—East Peak carved clean through pair trunks then connected against something hidden—followed by an unearthly shriek of agony.
As twin colossal forms tilted slowly downward—severed and falling. Upon ground laid a peculiar entity in its parts: the dual halves writhing still in dying torment.
Familiar it seemed, Qianye’s memory grasping hold. He recognized this to be a rare beast, among first creatures ever emerging into Eternal Darkness through the Primordial Gate. That deadly horn upon its brow was signature marker. Swift ambush predator with fierce offensive prowess—unusual still though. Here it showed surprisingly adept stealth even midst a thicket. He hadn’t sensed its movement earlier; only at the very point of attack did he perceive it approach, without clue how near it came unseen.
His primal blood stealth rendered useless now; Qianye instead exhaled fully, releasing his full might into the air around. Instantly his entire aura erupted around like thin ethereal embers glowing faint crimson-gold. With flame igniting into presence, perception widened vastly in reaction, particularly with Auran current so concentrated—it helped conserve East Peak’s own expenditure in this setting, where primordial laws seemed strangely unyielding to typical manipulation.
Stepping into Deity general rank carried advantage indeed—the power over environment amplified attacks greatly, but laws of nature altered so profoundly inside Newer Land—most primordial forces now nearly impossible to wield naturally—required time adapting strange laws governing these lands. These nuances hampered Qianye’s overall strength heavily.
Curiously while supernatural abilities suffered, physical law appeared still largely ordinary—and that boded relatively well for Qianye as warrior famed for hand-to-hand expertise, his frame honed to an incredible edge in brute capacity.
Despite strength shown through unleashed primal aura beacon, his position soon became more exposed; awareness tingled across his senses; others observed, some glances from even further depths deep inside wood’s darkened heart—strange entities whose gaze he did not understand, and through mediums unfamiliar. Somehow—someways—they knew.
Meh. Discovered he would eventually be—nothing changed, nothing left but march onward, and Qianye continued into heart of verdant maze with undeterred determination.
A chorus of fluctuating cries reverberated from tree line then. Seemed almost like swarming insects buzzing in formation flight. Then from cover came several black dots, soaring and firing like high-speed fireballs from nowhere—slinging toward him with blistering speed beyond expectation.
Qianye shuffled subtly. Holding East Peak steady across front, awaiting them without wavering—as the whistling dark arrows met his waiting sharp sword edge—a series clinking bursts of metal ringing. All black projectiles cut cleanly into bisected segments before dropping silently to forest floor beneath.
Yet strength transmitted across arms had proven considerable—he inspected first East Peak’s blade, relieved confirming that its cutting edge remained unaffected and gleamed still fresh and gleaming like never used before—it exhaled relief.
Rubbing at limbs numbed slightly, looking downward confirmed—fallen before were tiny wingless creatures barely larger than fists.
Each coated in gray exoskeleton plating, with dagger-featured heads; the lower halves possessed strange ringed segments. These circular sections dilated and contracted rhythmically with pulses from within to discharge concentrated bursts of raw primordial power—no true wings present. Instead their flight hinged entirely on this rapid expulsion of force rings—enabling motion speeds rivaling fired ordinate projectiles. The average human might only hope vainly, failing defense upon encountering such unanticipated fury.
Misplaced luck they bore, for Qianye awaited still, poised and prepared, East Peak his saving grace against their speed’s menace.
Although on the surface this first strike might have appeared trivially overcome, yet in practice, mastery of this highest art lay bare its true worth. Although victorious Qianye remained ever the more attentive and serious. The woods around him transformed him fully into a world of unpredictable shadows, wherein stepping forward carried risk unknown per forward motion.
Forest howled once more; bullet-like projectiles flew as energy circles trailed behind each soaring figure—a swarm approaching anew from foliage shadows. In response: he moved only as necessary across narrowest of footspace, sword weaving endlessly an iron curtain about, impervious against any penetration.
Then a string of metallic collisions rang out—this time, piling carcasses surrounding his every foot. Silence resumed briefly within woods after—an expectant lull, where beasts hidden in darkness remained awed momentarily at the toll taken upon their ranks.
Stretching with popping cracks from his joints akin to a string of firecrackers being lit one by one—having deflected countless death rushes by now, even he acknowledged mild exhaustion creeping across his limbs, but thanks to an ancient vampiric constitution—it granted a steady stream recovery through breaths alone. Before long, the brief lull was sufficient, bloodline energy flowing once more without hindrance restoring him fully once again.
As if cue upon restoration complete, from further depths arose cacophony—the symphony of wild roars, insectal chittering—followed by a stream of monsters rushing forward as an endless tide, charging head-long directly into deadly embrace with Qianye.
Yet precisely in this scenario, lay an environment where combat favored most: He flashed like lightning, reemerging suddenly outside their strike vector, flowing smoothly straight into an elegant and deadly sword art—an endless flow blending fluid elegance with death-dealing intent. Each swipe released a cascade of bloodspraying havoc.
Watching as new waves spewed unceasing forward—before long they had transformed beyond skirmishing unit into full-on horde, with varied monstrous ranks and species in its composition. While calculating internal estimates to gauge precise ranges covering their domain area of influence and his Life Siphon range—he maneuvered through them, drawing them ever more to his movements, forcing these legions forward under control.
Yet suddenly there erupted sharp piercing cry of recognition—a metallic glimmer burst skyward from beneath his exo-suit of war—Feicì, the parasite symbiote, was furious at surrounding enemies; screaming as it did so—flying straight toward fastest target: a galloping horse shaped entity with horned face. In a mere heart’s beat the needle struck true. Entering straight through beast’s skull’s front, piercing directly through—emerging with gore splashed tail-end from the base posterior behind. Without even pausing momentum, Feicì immediately soared again, launching straight again at another, driving deep piercing into second foe head, boring through its opposing side like arrow through thin paper again—again—again!
Before long, countless creatures were falling in rapid fashion from Feicì’s brutal high speed impalements. The massacre wrought by his pet was terrifying—one might even suggest, exceeded its master a touch in raw carnage capacity.
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