Tunde walked down the same path he had taken up, alone, the doors to the sect leader’s sanctuary grinding shut behind him as his mind churned with thought. The banquet hall was now empty, with only Ifa standing at the entrance alongside a lone Lord-rank guard, who turned his gaze toward Tunde as he approached. Tunde’s footsteps echoed softly, and he nodded as Ifa greeted him with a smile.

  Together, they waved their goodbyes to the guard, who bowed deeply before closing the doors to the mountain home of the sect. The two stepped into the silent night air and, without a word, began descending the mountain. In the distance, the city lights glimmered, and the sounds of the people grew faint as the night deepened and the moon cast its bright light over them.

  The air was especially chilly that night, but they warded it off with a thin coating of aura, savoring the stillness as they moved farther from the northern mountain, their bodies carrying them swiftly down the path toward the city.

  A few minutes later, they reached the city proper, the deserted streets quiet as Tunde’s thoughts replayed the revelations he’d learned from the sect leader.

  “Nights like these carry a sense of foreboding,” Ifa said softly, and Tunde nodded silently as they passed through streets he recognized from the ape attack. Homes had been rebuilt, their windows now glowing warmly from within. Soon, they used their imbued auras to fly above the city, heading toward their quarters at a much faster pace.

  Back at the sanctuary, they landed inside the walls, where Zehra, Sera, Daiki, and Zhu appeared from within the building. Zhu’s eyes brightened as he saw them, and Daiki greeted them with a nod.

  “That took a while,” Sera commented as Tunde nodded wearily. “There’s much to discuss.”

  They made their way inside, gathering in the large common room as Ifa prepared tea. Tunde, however, waved it away, feeling weary of tea, and Ifa nodded, instead producing a large gourd of wine from his void ring. Zehra raised an eyebrow.

  “It was left unattended, and besides, the party was thrown in our honor,” Ifa replied with a grin. Sera chuckled, dipping a bowl into the gourd and drinking deeply, as did Tunde.

  “You start,” Tunde said to Ifa, who sighed, folding his hands within his robes. “I believe we’ve been drawn into something far beyond our control,” he began, and Tunde snorted, understanding the gravity of their situation.

  “The sect—specifically the vice sect leader—has instructed us to lead some of their forces to assault the rift controlled by the Ape King and his forces, promising a share of the loot,” Ifa added with a chuckle, clearly doubting the sincerity of that offer.

  “That’s quite generous, Bahataba,” Daiki said dubiously.

  “Indeed, especially given that we’d be isolated from the main fighting forces, surrounded by sect loyalists under the vice sect leader and General Fen,” Ifa noted, causing Zehra’s eyes to widen.

  “You think there’s more to this?” she asked.

  “There is—and it only gets worse,” Tunde said grimly as everyone turned to him.

  He recounted the sect leader’s history, the mission to close the rift, and the discovery of the Arcanist relic that powered it. He went on to describe the true purpose of the mountain, the curse woven into the cultivation arts of the Ashen Flame Sect, and finally, the implications surrounding the vice sect leader.

  By the end, their faces were ashen with shock.

  “Varis threw you away just like that?” Sera asked bitterly, clenching her fists as Zehra sat silent and Daiki shook his head morosely.

  “Not intentionally, I believe,” Ifa replied as Sera turned toward him. “Clan politics is more complex than that. You heard what Veyra said—the Talahan Clan would go to any lengths to attain its goals.”

  “That, and the medallion he gave me could be our way out. I refuse to believe he’d throw us all, including Zehra, to die without reason,” Tunde said firmly, folding his arms. The ice heiress scoffed as she stood.

  “That proves how na?ve you are,” she replied, and Tunde blinked in surprise. “The Talahan Clan has ruled this empire with blood, force, and steel for countless centuries. The regent himself is a symbol of such power that smaller clans, sects, and schools tremble at the thought of opposing them,” she continued.

  “Many have tried to resist them, perhaps even refused an order. They met with total annihilation. Their will is absolute, something my clan recognizes and accepts. If I die, then I die,” she finished.

  “Bahataba, the heavens always leave a way out,” Daiki murmured, though Sera snarled, getting to her feet as Ifa watched them all quietly.

  “To think of all those people—an entire city—cursed to follow such a path,” Sera seethed.

  “Veyra had no say in it; there was barely anything he could have done,” Tunde argued.

  “Careful there, young one,” Ifa warned. “It seems the sect leader has won you over to his side.”

  Tunde paused, considering this. “You think they separated us to feed us different stories and give us opposing goals tomorrow?” the elder asked.

  “Such is the way of the powerful,” Daiki agreed with a nod.

  Sera paced about, visibly unsettled, while Zehra closed her eyes, lost in thought. “The only way out is forward,” she said, and Ifa nodded as Tunde listened silently.

  “The Talahan Clan is right to suspect the Ashen Flame Sect. With all that’s been done to them, I’d be foolish not to,” Zehra continued.

  “And the vice sect leader?” Tunde asked. “If she was truly placed to keep an eye on Veyra, tomorrow could either go smoothly or end in disaster.”

  “If we’re to face a beast that’s broken free from its shackles, it will be ruthless and feral, along with its kin,” Tunde said, counting off on one finger. “Then there’s the relic, which empowers a rift that’s tainted the entire forest. No matter what we loot, these peaks will never be the same.”

  “The people are our priority, not the peaks,” Sera said softly, almost as though she wanted him to disagree.

  He held her gaze, then nodded. “Agreed,” he said, noticing her relax slightly. “But we also have to consider that the clan may have another plan in motion—something related to these mountains.”

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  “Then we face it one step at a time. Tomorrow, we stand together and face what comes,” Ifa replied.

  Zhu slipped closer to Tunde, who patted the Ethralite’s head, his thoughts swirling as the room fell into contemplative silence.

  ********************************

  Retiring for the night, Tunde sat in front of the small fire burning in the center of the room, the wood glowing from within as he gently wrapped his aura around it. This exercise, which Ifa had taught him, was good practice for refining one’s aura, particularly the Void. With each breath, he shaped the flames, siphoning the smoke Ethra into Void Ethra, though he had no particular need for it since his core was full and healthy.

  Zhu had opted to stay close to Sera, likely sensing the simmering rage within her; the Ethralite’s peculiar empathy had made Tunde wonder if that was truly an asset. On one hand, he had witnessed the Ethralite’s viciousness when defending or attacking—an enviable fighting style, likely owed to his rare bloodline.

  Tunde shook his head, pulling himself from his musings. Bigger issues demanded his focus. His gaze drifted to the Void ring on his right hand, the black gem atop its metal band glinting in the firelight.

  How had he become so distracted?

  Miria was somewhere out there, likely hoping he would come for her, that he’d lead the forces of Black Rock to rescue her. But how could he do that against a faction he barely understood? A faction supported by an empire so vast and powerful, Tunde might as well have been a gnat before them.

  He sighed, barely keeping his aura from snuffing out the flames, when a soft voice spoke. “Something’s bothering you,” Ifa said, standing at the door. Tunde looked up briefly before turning his gaze back to the fire.

  “We’re sitting in the middle of four mountains, probably designed to trap us, all because I trusted the word of a master. A lot bothers me,” Tunde replied quietly. Ifa’s footsteps padded softly against the wooden floor as he took a seat across from him, on the other side of the fire.

  “And what could you have done differently?” the elder asked. “Refuse Varis and the Talahan Clan? Lose their favor?”

  Tunde shrugged. “Better that than condemning those who knew nothing about this to death,” he replied, voice tinged with regret. Ifa sighed in exasperation.

  “As much as I applaud your sense of sympathy, I have no intention of raising a meek sheep,” Ifa said firmly, his gaze sharpening as Tunde looked up. “Welcome to Adamath, to Bloodfire, where everything, everyone, and every place is a death sentence,” the elder continued.

  “You survived the horrors of the flesh-eating barbarians, of Jade Peak, of Black Rock, and of the Wasteland King. What did they all have in common?” Ifa asked.

  Tunde didn’t respond immediately, and Ifa pressed further. “You were a bystander, a victim, and did you bemoan your status then?” he asked, and Tunde shook his head quietly.

  “I had no choice, I—” Tunde hesitated, searching for the right words. “They came for us. We had no choice but to defend ourselves,” he argued.

  “And yet, one might say that Varis and the Talahan forces merely amplified that danger. So long as we don’t stand at the peak of power in this blood-soaked world, we’ll always be at the mercy of those stronger than us,” Ifa said.

  “And the people of the city? Of Ashhaven?” Tunde asked, his voice edged with bitterness.

  “They chose their fates when they followed him here. Nevertheless,” Ifa said, raising a hand as he saw Tunde’s objection forming, “their descendants did not. We fight for them—to give them a chance at life,” he finished.

  Tunde’s gaze flicked toward the elder’s midsection. “Tired of holding back?” he asked, curious. He was the only one aware of the shroud Ifa had placed over his core.

  “If the situation warrants it, I may need to…reveal myself. But better it remains a surprise for now,” Ifa replied, and Tunde nodded.

  “What did he offer you, Veyra?” Ifa asked softly, and Tunde stared back into the flames. “The one thing he knew you were looking for as you snooped around his home,” Tunde replied, noting the surprise in Ifa’s raised eyebrows.

  “Ah, a true master—he knew,” Ifa said with a chuckle.

  “What were you going to do with it—the scroll, I mean?” Tunde asked, and Ifa folded his hands in his lap.

  “Understand what profane abomination twisted such refined art into something known as the Path of the Ashen Flame,” Ifa responded.

  “And the people? Can they be helped—saved even?” Tunde pressed, watching Ifa stroke his beard thoughtfully.

  “I don’t know, Tunde. I’m merely an arcanist, a title I don’t use lightly in this age. Healing is strictly the realm of the Rejuvants or alchemists,” Ifa replied, snuffing out the last of Tunde’s hope.

  “But we’ll try our best. We have to,” Tunde said with rock-solid determination, and Ifa nodded.

  “That we do,” Ifa agreed.

  Tunde pulled the scroll from his Void ring, and Ifa sucked in a breath, staring at it with reverence. Tunde tossed it over the flames, and Ifa reacted instinctively, slamming his aura tightly around the scroll, catching it just above the fire without a flinch.

  Tunde watched as the elder lost himself momentarily, his entire focus fixed on the scroll before he slipped it into his own Void ring. Ifa closed his eyes briefly, regaining his composure before speaking.

  “Then I believe we owe the sect leader a favor,” Ifa said, and Tunde nodded.

  “Very well. What does he want exactly?” Ifa asked.

  “To protect him from any blade, within or without,” Tunde responded.

  “Then our job is clear: Veyra Talahan must not die,” Ifa stated.

  “And what about your deal with the vice sect leader?” Tunde asked. “She specifically gave us the rift job to separate us from Veyra, though why she’d want her husband dead is beyond me.”

  “I don’t believe it’s that simple,” Ifa countered, a thoughtful frown forming. “Ever since we arrived in Ashhaven, I’ve had this strange feeling.”

  “Strange feeling?” Tunde asked.

  “Ifa nodded. “The array formation that serves as the seal binding this place—it feels as if something else lies beneath it, something malevolent. I can’t pinpoint it, but something about it just feels wrong,” the elder said.

  Tunde clasped his hands together, resting his chin on them as he closed his eyes. “This was supposed to be a simple spying mission,” he said. “Instead, we’ve discovered it’s a suicide mission, with the two pillars of the Ashen Flame Sect on the brink of turning against each other—with innocents caught in the middle.”

  “Nothing worthwhile is ever simple,” Ifa replied, and Tunde sighed.

  “But even as a Highlord, it would be suicidal to go after a master, even one in a weakened state,” Tunde argued. “No matter how I look at it, there’s no way Veyra would go down that easily. I’ve seen what masters can do, and the very thought chills me to the bone.”

  "You must understand, whatever has been going on here has been planned for a long time. We are as much spectators as we are witnesses to whatever will unfold tomorrow," Ifa replied.

  “To be honest, I’m more concerned about what the Ape King has become,” he continued. “Living so deep inside a rift, empowered by a relic of the Arcanists—what use does that even serve?”

  “We could be facing a peak-stage master,” he warned, “one on the verge of becoming a paragon.”

  Tunde felt the temperature around them drop at the thought. “Would the empire even allow such a threat to rise?” he asked.

  Ifa shrugged. “You saw what they did to the Wasteland King. If Veyra fails to stop this beast and it claims Shadowscar Peaks as its domain, we might be looking at full-scale war between the forces of the empire and this creature.”

  “How many paragons are there within the empire?” Tunde asked curiously.

  “That I know of? Just one,” Ifa replied. “But I expect the Heralds would step in as well.”

  “The Heralds?” Tunde asked with a frown.

  “There’s a delicate balance of power on Bloodfire—just like anywhere else,” Ifa explained. “Stages beyond master are more myth than reality to most people. The empire knows it has a paragon, a regent, but have they seen them? No.”

  He paused before continuing. “When one faction grows too strong, it invites challenge from others. If it appears that one faction can raise not just one but two paragons, they’re seen as a potential threat.”

  “Would they come to blows?” Tunde pressed.

  “Thank the heavens, no,” Ifa answered. “If paragons—or worse, hegemons, or regents—ever clashed, the results would be more catastrophic than you could imagine.”

  “How bad?” Tunde asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  “Bad enough that the continent’s maps would be redrawn, and countless factions would simply vanish,” Ifa replied grimly, watching as Tunde stilled.

  “Yes, beings of that level are beyond the understanding of mere mortals like us. Best we hope that day never comes,” Ifa finished, dismissing the thought with a shake of his head.

  “But you’re not asking the right questions about the vice sect leader,” he added, as Tunde looked at him, puzzled.

  “If she’s planning to get her husband out of the way, it means she probably doesn’t want to remain in Ashhaven,” Ifa continued.

  “Which means,” Tunde breathed, “she has a way out of the peaks.”

  “Exactly, young one,” Ifa said, eyes glinting as they reflected the flames. “And that might just be our ticket out of this hellhole.”

  “So, what do we do?” Tunde asked, leaning in.

  Ifa smiled, his gaze flickering with a rare sense of hope.