Tunde made his way back to their abode, where a half-naked Ifa, body glistening with a light sheen of sweat, seemed to be sparring with the trio simultaneously, wielding wooden weapons. His movements were as graceful as his swordsmanship, the flow of his aura clashing with theirs in soft sparks. Tunde stood, entranced, watching for a few minutes as they tried unsuccessfully to land a single hit on him.

  Sera was the first to notice his arrival, earning her a slap from Ifa’s wooden weapon across the face that sent her twisting through the air before landing heavily on the floor. Tunde winced at the sight. With Sera out of the equation, Ifa shifted focus, taking down Zehra and Daiki in seconds, as though he’d merely been humoring their attacks to pass the time.

  Tunde wasn’t sure if it meant Sera had been the only one putting in real effort or if Ifa had been bored, but either way, he couldn’t wait to test himself against the elder, especially with the enlightenment he’d just gained.

  “Tunde, you’re back,” Ifa said, hopping over a groaning Sera, who sat up, shooting Zehra a glare. The heiress grinned widely, clearly enjoying Sera’s plight. Tunde nodded, picking up Sera’s wooden blade as Zhu darted up to the rooftop to watch.

  Sera cracked her jaw, nodding at him. “Don’t give him an inch. He’ll decimate you,” she warned, and Tunde nodded.

  He was the last person who needed reminding of just how lethal Ifa truly was, especially since only he knew that Ifa was actually a Master, not merely a Highlord. “So, what did the Forgesmith want?” Ifa asked, one hand behind his back, extending his wooden weapon toward Tunde—a clear taunt and challenge, one Tunde gladly accepted.

  “Nothing too important. He simply wanted to express his gratitude for me saving someone close to him,” Tunde responded. Ifa nodded, a glint of understanding in his eyes before he snapped his fingers.

  Highlord-rank aura surged out, encircling the building in a shimmer before vanishing silently. Zhu shuddered at the raw power surrounding them. “I believe we may have been brought here for something far worse,” Tunde said, launching into an attack, his wooden weapon imbued to its limit before disintegrating in his hands.

  He clashed with Ifa, who parried easily, Tunde dodging a low counterattack before twisting out of the way of another strike. “In what way?” Ifa asked, applying pressure as they moved at imbued speeds. Ifa was careful to keep his strength within the Lord Realm, never pushing into the Highlord rank he currently concealed.

  The others listened closely as Tunde recounted what had transpired. Zehra’s eyes widened with each word, while Daiki looked on gravely and Sera displayed surprising indifference, as though unbothered by their predicament.

  “That is indeed grave,” Ifa said, releasing his weapon and controlling it with his aura. Tunde’s eyes widened as he found himself staving off attacks coming from impossible angles, as swift and precise as if he were fighting three peak-tier Lords at once—a challenge he realized he could handle, albeit barely.

  “So, not only do the people of Ashhaven have no idea about the Artificers’ relic beyond the sect boundaries, but we could also be facing an Ape King, empowered by said artifact, who might soon advance beyond Master Realm, given the convergence hasn’t even fully settled yet?” Zehra outlined. Tunde bent low, coming up with a strike Ifa anticipated, the elder shoulder-checking him before landing an aura-imbued palm into his midsection, staggering Tunde backward in sharp pain.

  “I’m more concerned about the countless people being taken by these apes, whether for food or sport—it’s become too much,” Ifa said.

  “And yet, they invite us to a banquet,” Daiki said, simmering with anger, clenching his prayer beads tightly, his gaze clouded.

  Tunde tossed aside his shattered weapon, coating his arms in aura and going on the offensive. He exchanged rapid blows with Ifa, who chuckled, clearly amused, as Tunde found himself on the back foot again, pushing himself with all he’d learned of the Boundless Asura style.

  Ifa seemed to know precisely how to parry or deflect each attack, taking the force out of Tunde’s strikes. Tunde was tempted to use Ethra Sight in desperation to gain an edge over the elder.

  “Banquet?” he grunted, taking a palm strike to his shoulder, his body humming from the impact. Using the force, he twisted into a kick aimed at Ifa’s neck. The elder caught it.

  “Indeed, tonight!” Ifa replied enthusiastically before spinning Tunde through the air, leaving his senses muddled.

  Quickly wrapping himself in a cocoon of void aura, the shimmering dark grey power dampened the impact as Ifa’s punch slammed into him, driving him straight into the ground. Tunde lay there for a few moments, catching his breath, as Ifa stood over him with a hand extended. Tunde accepted it gratefully, pulling himself up as Zhu landed beside him. “Me,” Zhu said to Ifa, who inclined his head.

  “And did our patrons mention what this banquet is for?” Tunde asked as Daiki tossed him a scroll, which he caught and scanned with a frown.

  “Why, it’s for us,” Ifa chuckled, facing Zhu, who bowed to him before flaring to life with aura. The dark green energy, pulsing with a touch of Tunde’s concept, flooded Zhu’s form as he shot at Ifa with Lord Realm strength.

  It was nothing short of astonishing for Tunde as it sank in that both he and Zhu had reached the same stage of advancement despite Tunde being present for the creature’s birth. Perhaps it had something to do with Zhu’s origins as a divine beast.

  Still, the fact that Zhu hadn’t yet been able to obtain a human form puzzled him. Where most true beasts were born conventionally from other beasts, Zhu was first and foremost a being of Ethra, created from the remnants of the tyrant’s existence. Yet even that dark being was a creature of pure Ethra—a factor Tunde suspected contributed to this delay.

  Ifa also released a fraction of his aura, the ground rippling as his earth Ethra came into play. He dodged Zhu’s sharpened digits with ease, though Zhu attacked so unrestrained that Tunde worried for a moment. He then watched as Ifa repeatedly slammed the creature into the ground. Zhu, however, rose each time, learning from his mistakes, antennae bobbing and wings weaving softly.

  “They want to thank us for stepping in to save their people,” Sera said with a snort.

  “I’ve grown tired of their attitudes, to be honest,” Tunde confessed, rolling up the scroll.

  “That may be true, but they’re still a sect of the Imperial Clan, and we’re at their mercy—for now, of course,” Ifa cautioned, laughing as an aura-imbued palm slammed into Zhu, who withstood it even better than Tunde had, raising Ifa’s eyebrows in surprise.

  “I’m going—for the food,” Sera said as Zehra nodded.

  “Perhaps it’ll be a good opportunity for me to understand what’s really going on with this sect,” Zehra added.

  “I thought you weren’t interested in the sect?” Tunde asked.

  “And I’m still not, honestly. I still believe we should help them as much as we can and then make haste for the capital. No one would blame us for avoiding certain death at the hands of a Tier 6 true beast,” she said, and Tunde rolled his eyes.

  “All the same, the more I learn about this elusive sect, the better prepared Shimmersteel will be if we ever cross paths with them,” she said.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Tunde wondered why he hadn’t thought of that—gathering information on different sects and clans on his way to the capital and sending it back to Black Rock. Surely they’d need such vital intelligence? He dismissed the idea, thinking the two elders back home would already know most of what he could gather.

  A peal of thunder echoed as Ifa locked fists with Zhu, whose form visibly rippled under the force before he was blasted backward, landing in a heavy silence. The Ethralite sat up, ruffling his shimmering scales before turning to Tunde. “Good,” he said enthusiastically, and Tunde sighed in relief.

  “Zhu will have a stronger body than we could ever imagine—he’s a true beast; they usually do,” Ifa commented, noticing their expressions.

  Tunde glanced at Ifa hesitantly. The elder grinned, and the trio shuddered in unison as Ifa laughed at them.

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

  Night approached, and Tunde, along with the others, found themselves garbed in the fresh robes they had brought with them. Tunde wore the black and white colors of Black Rock, the clan’s symbol emblazoned on the back of his robes. Ifa donned a simple cream robe, his hair perfectly arranged. Tunde wondered if he should grow out his own rough mess, allowing Zehra to comb through the unruly patches, while Sera offered to help him shave his head cleanly.

  Tunde had almost agreed to Sera’s help until he saw the enthusiastic gleam in her eye and politely declined, much to her disappointment. Zhu was given a custom robe cut to his size, one that left Tunde scratching his head at how out of place the Ethralite looked. Sera laughed at the sight of Zhu swaddled in robes.

  It wasn’t as if the creature wasn’t already known, so Tunde simply accepted the situation and moved on. They made their way toward the gates, where a large wooden carriage awaited them.

  “Don’t you find it odd that Jade Peak and Shimmersteel have vessels crafted by the Artificers, and here they use these old wooden carriages?” Tunde whispered to Ifa.

  “If they’ve been isolated as long as they say, perhaps they don’t use them anymore,” the elder responded. “Or the sect may have banned them for certain reasons,” Ifa added meaningfully, and Tunde nodded.

  Perhaps the relic had something to do with it. Steps might have been taken to prevent the Artificers from accessing the city itself. Ashhaven was alight in a wash of colors—orange and red lights illuminated the night, children ran through the streets, and the scent of alcohol and roasted meat filled the air. The mix of aromas tempted Tunde to let the others continue to the banquet while he stayed behind.

  After restraining Zhu for what felt like the tenth time, they arrived at the northern mountain keep, decorated for the occasion with glowing lights and cultivators lined up to enter through the large stone gates at its base.

  Two Highlord cultivators stood guard, faces unfamiliar to Tunde, who again wondered just how many Highlords the Ashen Flame Sect possessed. Certain aspects of the sect puzzled him, and he itched to unravel them. Yet, the raw power and presence of the cultivators around him reminded him they were no joke.

  The dense presence of ash Ethra in the air made it difficult for him to cycle, and Tunde realized he might need to resort to his siphoning technique. But doing so would reveal a bit too much about his skills, and showing off such a powerful technique could be risky. He kept silent as they reached the gates, flashing the Talahan Sect medallion. The Highlords nodded silently, letting them pass.

  Tunde took in a sharp breath at the sight before him—the hollowed yet beautifully crafted interior of the mountain. He stared up at the stone ceiling, knowing another layer or floor resided above, reserved for the sect’s higher echelons.

  The vast area was filled with long rows of wooden tables stretching from a few meters beyond the great stone doors to the large building occupying much of the distance. He recognized some faces from when they were summoned to meet the sect leader; they sat at a table apparently reserved for the higher powers of the sect. Tunde spotted the Forgesmith there, who regarded him with a cold look. Tunde understood that position within the Ashen Flame Sect was relative—the Forgesmith, despite his influence, was treated as a common man among them.

  Tunde also noted others seated at the table meant for high-ranking members, including Nue and Fen, as well as Mei and her daughter, who was supposed to be their guide yet hadn’t appeared since the meeting.

  A loud gong sounded, and where previously the cultivators at the gates had been screened, now they poured in, filling the rows of tables, their eyes alight at the meals before them.

  “I think they wanted them to take a look at us first. That’s not very nice,” Zehra muttered, and Ifa nodded in silence.

  “Either way, we need to go greet our hosts,” Tunde replied as they walked to the steps leading to the table where the sect’s powers were seated. Tunde avoided Fen’s gaze, bowing at the waist with his fist to his palm as the others followed suit.

  “I greet the vice sect leader and the elders of the Ashen Flame Sect,” he proclaimed, his voice loud in the quiet air.

  “Thank you for honoring us with your presence,” Mei said, rising to her feet and turning to the crowd, a smile plastered on her face.

  Tunde rarely judged people before he saw their true nature, but something about the Highlady left him uneasy.

  “Tonight, we celebrate these valiant cultivators who helped us repel the attacks of the apes. Their quick thinking and actions brought us pride, and I dare say the Ashen Flame Sect is in their debt,” she continued as Tunde frowned slightly.

  Standing straight, he watched as they were directed to a wooden table reserved for them, laden with delicacies. Sera practically salivated at the sight of the food. Loud music began to play from a group of servants in a corner, who somehow used their auras to transmit the sound across the entire hollowed mountain.

  “Tunde, food—can’t be too careful, can we?” Ifa whispered, and Tunde understood, quietly activating his Ethra Sight to scan the meals, confirming they were simply food. He nodded subtly at Ifa, who sat on the clean, spotless ground with the rest of them. Zhu and Sera were already digging in.

  Just as Tunde was about to reach for a piece of meat, an oppressive power suffused the mountain as ash and flames began to swirl beside Lady Mei. Tunde and the others rose, already familiar with the power.

  “Cultivators one and all, pay your respects to the sect leader of the Ashen Flame Clan, Master Veyra Talahan!” Fen’s booming voice announced.

  Veyra Talahan appeared in grey robes, hands folded behind him as the entire room bowed respectfully. “Please, be seated,” he said softly, his aura carrying his voice.

  They complied in silence, the sect leader smiling as he glanced in Tunde’s direction, nodding at him and his companions.

  “Tonight, we feast and make merry in celebration of these honored members of our sect. Their actions challenge every one of us to be more,” Veyra began.

  “Tomorrow, we begin preparations for the battles to come. My brother, Fen,” he said, placing a hand on the Highlord’s shoulder, “has informed me that the rift has once again swelled in size. It will soon consume the entirety of the dark forests, bringing our enemies to our very doorstep.”

  Tunde’s gaze hardened.

  Whispers began to circulate as the sect leader nodded. “Indeed, and yet we can do nothing but hold against the tides of grey skins who would dare to take our lands and homes from us,” he said.

  “The Ashen Flame Sect marches to war,” he announced, and a roar filled the mountain. “Long live the sect leader!” voices chanted as the music resumed and the festivities continued, the night dissolving into a blur of music and noise.

  Tunde observed the cultivators around him, watching how they interacted. A group of women surrounded an uncomfortable-looking Daiki, who nodded and responded softly. Zehra conversed with a pot-bellied man who looked more like a merchant than a cultivator.

  And Ifa… Tunde blinked in surprise, realizing the elder was nowhere to be found. Alarm flickered across his gaze as he looked over at Zhu, who was devouring dish after dish, with servants constantly bringing more to their table. The sect leader had also departed, likely returning to his quarters.

  The absence of the elder bothered him greatly; Tunde doubted he had zoned out so much that he’d miss anything happening to Ifa. His thoughts were interrupted by Rui’s presence as she moved toward him, weaving subtly through the crowd until their eyes met. She sat down next to him in silence, the two watching the festivities before she glanced at him.

  “So, the Forgesmith invited you to his forge?” she began, and Tunde raised an eyebrow.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked, taking a sip of the potent alcohol, ignoring the laughter coming from Sera’s direction.

  “Because you fascinate me, Tunde,” she continued, and he smiled briefly.

  “After the stunt you pulled by attacking me in our quarters? I’d be surprised if you weren’t,” he replied.

  Rui was about to respond when shouts erupted from where Sera stood, a cultivator on the ground clutching his wrist, blood spurting as Tunde quickly rose to his feet.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Nue’s voice cut through as she suddenly appeared, staring at the bloodstained floor.

  Tunde noticed Zehra and Daiki inching closer to his position as he stood next to Sera. “That whore attacked me!” the Lord-ranker on the ground shouted. Tunde glanced at Sera, who shrugged. “He touched me,” she said, eliciting gasps across the room.

  “Lies!” another cultivator shouted, face red with rage as his hand moved to his blade. Tunde’s eyes flicked to the hand as he spoke.

  “Think carefully before drawing it,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with menace.

  The cultivators around him froze.

  “This will not do,” Mei’s voice interrupted, the room parting as she made her way closer.

  “We cannot let bad blood fester, now can we?”

  she said with a light smile.

  “Indeed, we cannot!” Ifa’s cheery voice broke the silence, the elder approaching as he gave Tunde a quick once-over and winked at him.

  “What do you propose?” Mei asked.

  Ifa stretched his hands out. “The same thing on everyone’s minds, I believe—a duel!” he announced with a soft laugh.