Lines of black and white Ethra flowed in both directions between the two saints, their Ethras—and, as Tunde suspected, something more—tearing through their forms as they rippled. The flesh saint struggled to let go, but Bai held tightly to his arms, unwilling to release him even as the vile Ethra of the flesh saint ran rampant through his own body. Both were in agony; Tunde could see that clearly. But as the soul saint's eyes met his, Tunde understood in that moment what he wanted him to do, and he was more than happy to comply.

  His relic burned with Ethra as he launched himself at the flesh saint. The saint saw him coming, eyes wide, and snarled. Flesh hands, weapon shapes, and other grotesque forms manifested around him, along with a few soul-imbued horrors that had survived the soul saint’s call.

  Tunde’s Ethra Sight flared, and in that moment, Alana’s fang became a weapon of pure wrath in his hands. The summoned attacks fell apart before his blade as if the flesh saint’s power was waning. Even as strength slowly drained from his limbs, Tunde pressed forward, his black blade glowing as he closed in on the flesh saint.

  “Curse you, Bai!” the flesh saint screamed, opening his mouth as raw flesh Ethra—grey and brown, putrid—coalesced and fired at Tunde, who twisted through the air and threw the fang.

  The flesh saint summoned two gigantic arms to block the weapon, as Tunde had hoped. The fang pierced through them, ripping them to shreds before stabbing straight through the saint's chest and the orb within it. The blade had passed through Bai’s form as well, who smiled before closing his eyes. White flames erupted from his body, enveloping both saints.

  Tunde crashed to his knees, shielding his eyes from the blazing column of power. A loud wail rent the air as the island itself shook as if freeing itself from oppression. White flames spread across the island, washing over everything, and cleansing all in their path. As the flames passed through Tunde, he doubled over, eyes burning and heart searing, as though he had swallowed molten steel.

  Gasping through the pain, he felt himself weakening as the flames receded, leaving a charred but clean landscape. He swallowed the pain, unsure of what had just happened, and sat back, palms against the ground, noticing the tremors had stopped.

  His gaze fell on the charred, broken body of the flesh saint, still smoking. Tunde gagged as he struggled to stand. “A sorry sight, I believe?” the voice of Saint Bai said as he manifested over his mortal form, frowning at it.

  “Saint Bai?” Tunde breathed, shocked. The saint smiled at him, waving a hand.

  “Please, that title no longer applies to me,” Bai said. “I have sacrificed it, along with its powers, to be granted access back into the Wheel of Existence.”

  “Wheel of Existence?” Tunde asked, confused.

  Bai nodded. “Do not trouble yourself with that now. I must thank you for what you’ve done here. You’ve freed me from the shackles of an eternal torment of my own making.”

  Bai floated closer to Tunde. “Pardon me, but how are you here?” Tunde asked, bewildered. He had watched Bai and his mortal form consumed by white flames, a cleansing fire that had purged the island of all corruption.

  Bai laughed; a sound filled with relief. “I have been granted but a few moments by the laws, as a reward for my actions.”

  Tunde frowned in distaste. “Another law,” he muttered.

  “Patience, young cultivator,” Bai advised. “Advance, and the secrets of this world will be revealed to you in time. But my time is short, and I have much to tell you.”

  Tunde sat back down, staring into the shining face of the former saint.

  “I know what you are—or rather, who you are,” Bai began. “So much becomes clear when you stand at the precipice.”

  Tunde stiffened but controlled his expression.

  “I am too far gone—and too grateful—to wish you harm, descendant of the Pathmaker,” Bai said.

  “Then I don’t need to warn you about the consequences if the powers of Adamath realize someone like you still exists, do I?” Bai asked, and Tunde nodded.

  “Good. The laws are irrefutable. The pathways to Adamath being sealed was not random. I can say no more than that, but be wary of friends and enemies alike,” Bai warned.

  Tunde bowed; head pressed to the ground. “I will take the Highlord’s words to heart,” he promised.

  Bai laughed. “You are too docile for your own good, but it has served you well. I will not ask you to change—not until you become a power in your own right,” he said.

  A void ring manifested in Bai’s palm. He handed it to Tunde, who stared at it, confused.

  “To you, my dear Pathwalker, I offer all my worldly possessions,” Bai said, watching as Tunde blinked rapidly.

  His mind raced as the Highlord laughed. “Oh, to be young and eager to gather wealth,” he said, shaking his head before tossing the ring to Tunde, who quickly tucked it into his robes.

  “Lumens, elixirs, and pills of the highest quality are inside. They should serve you well,” Bai said.

  Tunde pressed his head to the ground. “The Highlord is benevolent,” he praised.

  Bai nodded. “It also contains my notes and scrolls on a better and faster way to attain sainthood, had I been patient enough to wait until I crossed over to the realm of master—or even beyond. The higher you advance, the easier it will be to try and attain sainthood. So, I beg you, learn from my mistakes. Circumstances forced my hand, but let it not be the same for you.”

  Tunde nodded. His heart raced. Within his grasp was the ability to attain untold power—the power of a saint. And all he had to do was keep advancing.

  Shouts came from the entrance of the village as Bai turned toward the noise. “Your friends are on their way. Good,” he said. “Before they arrive, though, one more thing between us: I know of your spirit companion, and if I’m right, the ties between you.”

  Tunde turned back to the elder, serious. “This island is my domain after all. People like me and your companion belong to the past—an era of pure bloodshed and war. We are shades that survived and echo into this new era you and your friends will call your own,” Bai said, leaning toward Tunde.

  “I see the threads of revenge around you. Your tale is a myth, known only to the highest echelons on Adamath—something being a saint afforded me access to. I understand your pain, but I warn you now, Tunde: if revenge becomes your sole aim, you will lose yourself.”

  “Carve your own path, and be wary of your ancestor. You are but a blade he intends to point at the throats of those who took everything from him. What happens when that blade is bloodied and chipped?” Bai asked.

  Tunde remained silent, his mind reeling.

  “You know of my origins. What can—”

  “If he didn’t tell you, and for good reason, then it’s not my place to do so,” Bai interrupted with a raised palm, smiling as Sera and the others burst through the vine-covered entrance, rushing toward him.

  Zhu screeched and landed nearby, spraying up dirt as Tunde laughed. The Ethralite hugged him tightly. Zehra, blade drawn, surveyed the scene and then glanced back at the saint. “What happened here?” she whispered.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “Figured the explosion came from you,” Sera grunted as they spotted Daiki walking toward them, looking much improved but without his staff.

  “Your friend here managed to free me from my mistakes. I owe you all a great debt,” Bai said, bowing at the waist.

  Daiki reached them and bowed to the apparition of the Highlord. “Bahataba be praised,” he said.

  Bai nodded. “Indeed. For your efforts, I have a few gifts for you as well.” He gestured toward Daiki. “Within my cave, there are certain items that may benefit you all.”

  Turning to Daiki, Bai said, “For you, cultivator of the Luminous Path, I leave a scroll meant for cultivating that path—one I was gifted by the Sage himself during my travels across the continent.”

  Daiki’s eyes widened as he clenched his hands to keep them from trembling.

  Then, addressing Sera, Bai said, “To you, lady of the Path of Asura, I see that your journey will not be an easy one. You will make more enemies than friends, shunned for treading a path only the most hardened hearts dare walk. For that, I commend you.”

  Sera nodded; her face steeled.

  “All I ask is that you remain true to the path of light and good. It will save you a lot of trouble in the future. For you, I give all my knowledge of the techniques and cultivation of the flesh saint.”

  Sera’s eyebrows shot up. “Why in the heavens would I want that madman’s cultivation method?” she blurted.

  Tunde choked back a laugh as Bai chuckled in surprise.

  “The flesh saint was evil, but his cultivation was not. There is a distinct difference, young one. Besides, it was something I created, and he stole, as he had access to some of my memories,” Bai explained.

  Sera settled but still seemed skeptical. “No need for me to pay you?” she asked.

  Zehra sighed. “He’s a spirit, blood brat. What could you possibly pay him?”

  Sera rolled her eyes as Bai laughed again. “Sera, kindly thank the Highlord,” Tunde muttered.

  She blinked, “Thank you, Highlord,” she said, though clearly begrudgingly.

  Zhu repeated her words under his breath like a child, and Bai smiled.

  “To you, lady of the Frozen Blade Art,” Bai continued, “I sadly did not walk the path you have. But you may split the surplus Highlord Ethra crystals in the cave with that divine beast over there.”

  “Divine beast?” Tunde asked, glancing at Zhu.

  Bai’s eyebrows raised. “You had no idea?”

  “We always assumed he was a true beast of some sort—an Ethralite, as Tunde calls it,” Sera said.

  Bai laughed. “I see—close, and yet vastly different. But no, better you find out yourself. The journey is the fun part, after all.”

  Tunde’s eyebrow twitched in irritation.

  The elder’s body began to glow brighter. “I’ve exhausted the privilege granted to me by the laws.”

  “My parting gift to you lies within the furnace of the ship, along with this, for your... companion,” Bai said, as his form began to shimmer, growing more radiant by the second.

  “Be safe, and may the Hegemons be with you,” Bai said as his body exploded in a burst of pure white light.

  The island heaved again as if another weight had been thrown off its shoulders. Tunde blinked rapidly, noticing a white marble in front of him. He picked it up, feeling its coolness.

  “Is the saint gone?” Sera asked, standing up.

  Tunde nodded.

  “What’s that?” Zehra asked, her eyes narrowing at the marble.

  Tunde clenched it in his hand. “A gift for a friend of mine,” he murmured softly.

  Sera clapped her hands. “Quickly, before we lose the saint’s gifts!” she said, rushing toward the exit as Zehra called after her.

  Tunde turned to Daiki, who stared at the smoldering body of the flesh saint and the place where Bai had vanished.

  “We were taught of a wandering cultivator who sought the path of enlightenment, free from the strict laws of this realm,” Daiki said, still gazing at the spot. “We were warned of the dangers of seeking too much freedom, using his story as a lesson. To think I would meet the very being whose tale served as a warning—Bahataba be praised,” he said, a tear rolling down his right cheek.

  Tunde said nothing, allowing the monk time to gather himself. After a few moments, Daiki tightened the prayer beads around his right hand and turned to Tunde, nodding. Together, with Zhu flying at Tunde’s side, they followed the retreating forms of Zehra and Sera.

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

  They made their way toward the cave, the island now completely devoid of the malevolent presence that had once suffocated it. Tiny lifeforms darted through the shadows, curious but wary of the beings leisurely moving through what was now their territory. They made quick time to the cave, passing through the still-illuminated interior where Daiki’s talismans glowed brightly, guarding the space.

  As they ventured deeper, they reached a secluded spot. Sera whistled in appreciation. “For a soul saint, he sure did hoard a lot,” Zehra observed, eyeing the glowing Ethra crystals and chests that lined the corner of the cave.

  Tunde left them to sort through the items. “Didn’t he leave anything for you?” Sera asked, as if the thought had just occurred to her.

  Tunde chuckled as he revealed the ring, much to the "oohs" and "aahs" of both ladies, Zhu imitating them as usual.

  “I wonder what’s inside,” Sera mused, eyeing him curiously.

  Tunde tucked the ring back into his robes. “Something good, I suppose,” he replied, glancing around the cavern. Zhu walked up to him, hands laden with crystals, staring into his face expectantly.

  Tunde scratched his jaw. “I suppose you’ll be needing your own void ring now,” he said, pulling out one of the spare void rings he kept in his robes and handing it to the divine beast. The crystals were immediately swallowed by the ring’s space.

  He placed the ring delicately on one of the serrated fingers of the Ethralite, who seemed fascinated by it. “Void ring?” Zhu asked, looking up at Tunde with curiosity. Tunde crouched and rubbed his head, surprised.

  “Yes, void ring,” Tunde replied, as Zhu gave a short laugh.

  The others finished sorting the space and walked back toward him. Sera was all smiles, Daiki appeared deep in thought, and Zehra’s face remained indifferent—likely used to such sights from her time in Shimmersteel. Together, they made their way back to the ship, Zhu flying ahead through the branches, scouting the way as if ensuring their safety.

  The island was quiet, and the clearing felt eerie. The ship stood empty. Tunde paused, glancing around for Ifa but seeing no sign of him.

  “So many dead,” Zehra muttered, shivering as they began marching toward the ship.

  “Tunde,” Ifa’s weak voice called from within him. He froze. Sera glanced back at him inquisitively, but he tapped meaningfully at his temple. Sera nodded slightly and continued toward the ship with Zehra.

  “How?” Tunde asked, confused. The spirit had been unable to occupy his mind when they entered the forest. When had he returned?

  “The flesh saint almost got to me. I had to escape into the domain,” Ifa said, his voice strained.

  Tunde paused. “I wasn’t close to you when you did.”

  “The domain…” Ifa’s voice trailed. “Since being in the domain, I’ve been setting aside a portion of my authority to create an escape route for situations like this. Thank the Hegemons.”

  Tunde nodded slowly, his thoughts racing. There was much he didn’t know about authorities, laws, and even domains—all because he was still just a lord. He looked up at the sky. “We defeated the flesh saint,” he said.

  “I know,” Ifa replied. “I can feel it in the air. I’m guessing the soul saint is gone as well?”

  “Yes, and he left a gift for you specifically,” Tunde replied, producing the orb. Ifa’s usually solid form was hazy as he manifested, staring at the white marble in shock.

  “He gave you this?” Ifa asked, his voice hushed.

  Tunde nodded. “He said you’d need it.”

  Ifa stared at the orb in awe. “This... I mean... the laws…”

  Tunde snarled in frustration. “The laws, laws this, laws that,” he grumbled as Ifa gave him a hesitant smile.

  After a moment of silence, Ifa spoke again. “Tell me, do you trust me?”

  Tunde hesitated. “What do you mean?”

  “I see something in your eyes,” Ifa continued. “Something I haven’t seen before—hesitation. Something happened in that forest that made you suspicious of me.”

  “I—” Tunde cut him off. “Take it.”

  “What?”

  “Take the damn marble. Whatever it does, I’m sure it will make you stronger. And I need you stronger if we’re going to survive the journey to Talahar,” Tunde said firmly.

  “Who are you talking to?” Zehra called out from the ship. She was already inside, and Sera was nowhere to be seen.

  Tunde smiled at her, waving gently. “No one, just thinking out loud!” he shouted back as she rolled her eyes and disappeared into the ship.

  He turned his gaze back to Ifa. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” Tunde began. “You’ve brought me this far, after all. But I just want you to know that, as much as I respect you and our shared goals, I will not be a pawn for any plans you have against the other cults.”

  Ifa raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He stretched out one hand, palm open.

  “How are you going to hold it?” Tunde asked, eyeing the outstretched hand.

  “Trust me,” Ifa replied, his words carrying enormous weight.

  Tunde said nothing more, dropping the marble into Ifa’s waiting hand. The orb floated for a moment before glowing brightly, and a rush of power surged into Ifa. His form blazed, becoming more solid and visible by the second.

  A gust of wind swept across the island, tearing leaves from the trees. The earth itself began to glow as vast quantities of earth Ethra rose up. Tunde activated his Ethra Sight and watched in awe as traces of his own Ethra appeared, faint but present—not the deep dark gray he had grown accustomed to.

  The sheer power in the air shook the ground beneath them, cracking it as a glowing circle of inscriptions appeared, drawing even more energy into it. Tunde had to avert his gaze after a while; the power was too overwhelming for him to bear.

  When it finally subsided, Tunde blinked, feeling lighter. He stared ahead; surprise etched across his face.

  “Can I have a spare robe, please?” a deep voice asked.

  Tunde stared in disbelief at the figure in front of him. “Ifa?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

  Ifa—now occupying Joran’s face—smiled. “Later. Right now, though, robe, please.”

  Zehra landed beside him, her gaze averted as she drew her blade. “Impossible. He should be dead!” she exclaimed; her eyes wide.

  Tunde wasn’t sure if her shock was due to seeing Joran, the supposedly dead blind tiger, or because he was stark naked. He assumed it was a bit of both.

  “Zehra, meet Elder Ifa,” Tunde said, turning and heading toward the ship.