The building itself was built much like the keep. Dozens of rooms lined the inside, along with passageways and large, simple rooms that Tunde guessed were training quarters. True to the Highlady’s word, servants and maids from the sect arrived shortly after, taking over the care of the building. From the amount of dust that had accumulated, Tunde realized it was rarely in use.

  Most of the servants were adepts and initiates, with at least two lords overseeing them. The rooms were cleaned and tidied, beds laid out, and the smell of something cooking over the fire pit in the center of the building filled the air. It seemed to serve as a communal resting spot. Tunde settled into his quarters quietly, sighing as he lay on the bed after cleaning up.

  What was supposed to be a straightforward journey to the capital had become another diversion to yet another sect. Tunde frowned, sitting up and resting his back against the wooden wall of the room. A soft breeze blew in from the window he had left open, carrying the sweet scent of plums from the trees planted in the courtyard outside.

  There was no direct sunlight, only the faint, filtered light breaking through the ashen clouds that hung gloomily over the city and its outskirts. Tunde wondered how the trees received enough light to grow at all, but it was a fleeting thought. The weight of their current situation settled heavily on him as he rested his hands behind his head.

  What exactly did Varis suspect this sect of—treason?

  He had seen the flash of disgust on Highlady Mei’s face and understood what they thought of the imperial clan, despite their dependence on it. Tunde couldn’t shake the thought that the sect might have some secret deal with the artificers, and that the story she had told them about the forest and relic was a lie, or at best, a half-truth.

  Either way, he didn’t want to make more enemies, and this mission seemed like a sure way to do just that. A knock on his door drew his attention as it opened, revealing two maids carrying large trays of food, followed by his companions. The room was large enough to hold them all, with Sera leading the group, now dressed in a fresh robe.

  “That was fast,” Tunde observed, as the maids placed the trays, heavy with various dishes, on the floor before bowing and exiting the room, closing the door behind them. Ifa raised a finger to his lips, silencing everyone before producing a talisman. Tunde’s eyebrow rose as he glanced at Zhu, who had claimed an entire tray for himself, happily devouring it while crushing a few Ethra crystals into his food.

  Placing the talisman on the wall, Tunde felt a wave of soft power spread through the room, followed by a slight pop in his ears. Ifa sighed. “There, that should do it,” he said, crossing his arms.

  “I didn’t know you used talismans,” Tunde commented, as Daiki stared curiously at the piece of paper on the wall.

  “Ample time has allowed me to make a few of my own. We should be safe from any prying eyes, even from a peak Highlord,” Ifa replied.

  “And then some?” Zehra asked, as Ifa smiled knowingly.

  “Now that we’re all gathered and refreshed, perhaps we should discuss the situation we’ve found ourselves in,” Ifa began.

  Zehra immediately spoke up. “Let’s be clear—Tunde is the one with ties to the Talahan clan, so this is his mission, not ours,” she said, glancing at Tunde.

  Ifa nodded in understanding, while Sera snorted. “Thinking of going off on your own?” she asked, as Tunde sighed. Daiki, however, was still focused on studying the talisman.

  “Why should I risk my neck for a sect that wouldn’t care if I lived or died?” Zehra responded.

  Ah, Tunde understood now. “Zehra, if this is about what the Highlady said, then I apologize,” he said. She frowned at him.

  “Why would you apologize for the Ashen Flame sect or the Highlady?” she asked.

  “Because I understand what it means to be looked down upon, treated like filth or a waste of resources—a wastelander,” Tunde replied softly. Zehra froze, mumbling something under her breath, clearly embarrassed as she glanced away.

  No doubt she saw the similarities to when they had first met in the swamp of the rift. Ifa chimed in. “If anyone feels uncomfortable with the nature of this task, now is the time to speak up.”

  Daiki blinked, snapping out of his reverie. “I go where fate wills me. The cycle of existence is never wrong. Bahataba,” he said, prompting Sera to shake her head, amused by the monk’s philosophical musings.

  “As long as I get to wield my blade and advance, I’ll follow you anywhere,” Sera added. Tunde paused, wondering if Sera’s loyalty was more about her hunger for battle than anything else. He wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or pleased that she had her own goals, no matter how troubling they seemed.

  Ifa clapped, startling Zhu, who was already working through another tray of food. “As I said, we’ve been drawn into something much larger than it seems,” Ifa continued.

  Zehra and Daiki were unaware of the true reason they had been sent to Ashhaven. Tunde shared Ifa’s reluctance to burden them with his problems, but they needed to understand the gravity of the situation.

  “Our involvement will depend on how much the sect actually requires our services,” Ifa explained. “This is a valuable opportunity to hone your skills, and the resources we might gain here—perhaps even some Ethra crystals—could be invaluable.”

  “You know something,” Tunde said with a sigh, noticing Sera perking up. Ifa chuckled.

  “Just assumptions, nothing concrete,” Ifa replied.

  “You haven’t been wrong so far,” Zehra remarked, as Ifa folded his arms within his robes.

  Finally done studying the talisman, Daiki turned his attention back to the conversation.

  “I believe the clan and the sect are hiding something within this valley, something related to a rift,” Ifa said, his voice measured. “The recent surge in rifts has increased the number of creatures and beasts appearing around the empire. Something has the sect worried—something so dangerous that they swallowed their pride and called on the empire for help.”

  “The sect leader is a master. What kind of creature could possibly make them that desperate?” Daiki asked.

  “Like I said, just assumptions. But we’ll know in time. I don’t believe they’ll send us back to the empire anytime soon,” Ifa replied.

  Sera snorted. “You heard the Highlady. They don’t believe we’ll be useful.”

  Ifa shook his head. “Perhaps, but I’m certain the sect leader will be curious enough to learn why the empire sent lords and a Highlord to do the work of a team of Highlords and masters.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  “So you’re saying whatever they’re facing is that dangerous?” Zehra asked, her voice laced with concern.

  “Indeed. I’m also curious about this relic of the artificers, though I suspect the Highlady mentioned it to bait us,” Ifa said.

  “Bait us?” Tunde asked, surprised.

  “Yes. Surely, you didn’t think she was careless enough to casually reveal something they’ve kept hidden, something I doubt even the empire fully knows about—or perhaps only a few powerful cultivators do,” Ifa explained.

  “To what end?” Zehra asked.

  “To send us in search of it, where we’d die—either at the hands of the relic’s guardians or by the creatures in the dark forest,” Tunde said, the realization dawning on him.

  Ifa nodded, satisfied. “That way, they could claim we died while fulfilling our mission without directly implicating themselves.”

  “It still doesn’t make sense. Why would they want us dead so badly?” Zehra asked.

  “Because the sect is hiding something from the empire—from the Talahan clan,” Daiki replied thoughtfully.

  “And they believe we’ve come to uncover their secret,” Zehra added, the understanding clear on her face.

  Ifa glanced at Tunde, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. He had wanted them to reach that conclusion on their own.

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

  They spent a few minutes reviewing their plans, with Ifa helping them set up a schedule that included meditation, sparring, and rest. Tunde chose to focus on meditating and balancing his Ethra, handing over Zhu’s training to Ifa, who eagerly took over. The Ethralite followed Ifa happily, leaving Tunde alone in the confines of his room.

  First, Tunde took a much-needed rest. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been during their journey on the ship until he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, completely knocked out. He awoke sometime in the night, the building silent as he switched on his Ethra sight, noting that the others were asleep, except for Ifa, who was deep in meditation.

  The master’s Ethra was a sight to behold—a blazing pyre of brown and silver Ethra that flowed around him with every breath. Not a single drop was wasted. Tunde shifted his gaze to the tiny form of Zhu, who was also meditating. The Ethralite’s jade-green Ethra, speckled with dark grey, shimmered as it copied Ifa’s technique. A smile crossed Tunde’s face, pleased that Zhu had found a true home, even if the creature reminded him of a dark time in his life.

  Rising to his feet, Tunde padded out of his room, his robes wrapped tightly around him as the cold night breeze blew past. Despite the chill, the wooden floor remained warm underfoot. Standing at the front of the building, he stared out at the distant city, his eyes scanning the fog that obscured much of it. Golden lamps burned silently in the streets, and Tunde could faintly hear the chatter of voices from afar.

  He opened his void ring and drew out a piece of Ethereon, taking a stance. His Boundless Asura fighting style, which had evolved into the Void Asura, focused on quick, lethal strikes designed to erase or break down enemies completely. The original Boundless Asura style was about brute force, delivering overwhelming strikes that could cut through a cultivator and their weapon in one swing.

  However, that style was wasteful, requiring robust reserves of Ethra and aura. Tunde took a deep breath, swinging the Ethereon metal through the air, but frowned as he paused mid-swing. Something felt off. Even without imbuing the metal with Ethra, it should have carried enough force to crush bone and flesh, but it felt... weak.

  He stared at his palm, clenching his hand around the metal tighter. "All is nothing. All is void," he muttered, as a surge of inspiration welled up within him. The air above him seemed to harden, and Tunde gritted his teeth, crossing his legs and settling into meditation. The Heaven’s Crucible descended upon him, its wrathful energy pressing down on him with each passing moment. But Tunde resisted.

  His muscles and bones came alight with raw power, a violent and overwhelming force. He summoned the Fang, letting the power flow into it. The relic greedily drank in the energy, growing stronger as it siphoned the rage of the crucible until it finally dissipated, leaving Tunde weak but clear-minded. He snapped his eyes open, understanding washing over him.

  “To devour is to be the void, but it is not the end,” he muttered. Rising to his feet, he took a stance again. “The void consumes,” he said softly as he swung the metal. It sliced through the air with a silent vibration only Tunde could hear, like the soft rustle of petals falling together.

  It was a harmony of movements as Tunde went through the steps. It felt as if an otherworldly presence guided him, pulling his strings, not filling him with raw power but with something more—a deep, inner understanding. Each movement whispered to him, urging him forward, to erase and consume his enemy.

  He committed each step to memory, realizing he was creating a new technique for the Void Asura. As the final step reached its peak, he ended with a downward strike, feeling the technique come together. A stone chair in his path turned to fine sand under the weight of the blow.

  “Empty Silence,” Tunde whispered, breathing heavily as he stood straight. His body was drenched in sweat despite the night’s chill. Reaching into his void ring, he took a sip from a waterskin filled with endurance-infused water, grateful for the refreshment.

  A satisfied smile crossed his lips as he stared at the pile of sand in front of him, wondering how much damage he could do with an actual blade. Could his naginata handle such power? The amount of Ethra and aura required would be risky, but for his rank, Tunde knew he had crafted a powerful ultimate technique.

  Movement on the rooftop caught his attention. A figure in dark grey robes stood as still as a statue. Tunde froze, activating his Ethra sight, confirming it wasn’t a trick of his eyes. The metal in his hand flared to life with void Ethra as he and the figure sprang into action.

  Two quick steps, and Tunde was on the rooftop, his Ethereon pole colliding with the large scythe wielded by the hooded figure. Their features were hidden under swaths of clothing. A lord, Tunde guessed, as noise came from below—his companions waking up. The figure activated a dominion technique, summoning an ash storm that swept across the area, obscuring everything in sight.

  So, the sect had moved first, and sooner than he’d expected. Too bad, Tunde thought as his Ethra sight cut through the illusion. The pole clashed repeatedly with a scythe; the figure visibly surprised that Tunde could see through the storm. What surprised Tunde more was the figure’s reluctance to use their Ethra or aura, relying only on a well-honed fighting style that was impressive. Without Ethra sight, Tunde wouldn’t have been able to keep up.

  A burning golden light flared from below—Daiki’s doing—causing the figure to hiss and retreat into the air, heading toward the city. Tunde followed, blazing with Ethra to signal his location to the others. Zhu’s presence surged forward, the Ethralite screeching as waves of power rippled past, pinpointing Tunde’s position.

  A powerful burst of energy, stronger than that of a lord, wiped out the dominion technique, revealing his companions covered in light ash. Banding together, they noticed Tunde streaking across the sky after the figure. The hooded figure paused mid-air, a handful of talismans ready.

  “Who are you? Why did you attack us?” Tunde demanded, but he received no response. The talismans flew into the air, a bright burst of light forcing Tunde to shut his eyes. When he reopened them moments later, the figure had vanished without a trace.

  Zhu appeared beside him. “Safe?” the Ethralite asked in its childlike voice.

  Tunde nodded absently before flying back to the building. Ifa, dressed in a white robe, was waiting for him.

  “That was quick, even for them,” Ifa said, frowning.

  “Who was that?” Zehra asked, her frost blade drawn.

  “No idea, but whoever it was, they were skilled with a scythe,” Tunde replied.

  “An odd choice of weapon,” Sera commented, arms folded.

  “Indeed. It suggests serious training and significant funding,” Ifa noted.

  “Not many cultivators can afford a weapon like that. The amount of Ethereon that must’ve gone into it...” Zehra added with a nod.

  “Are they testing us?” Daiki asked.

  “Yes, and now they know what we’re capable of,” Ifa replied. “The question is, what comes next?”

  “You used a piece of metal to fend off a cultivator?” Zehra asked, blinking at the chipped pole Tunde still held.

  “It was the only thing I could use without seriously trying to harm them,” Tunde explained.

  “Wise choice. We can’t afford to have them blame us for anything, even if they were the ones to start it,” Ifa said.

  “This is getting on my nerves,” Zehra growled. “If they don’t want us here, they should just send us away.”

  “Patience. They’ve played their hand. Now, we wait to see what follows. For now, we maintain our silence,” Ifa advised.

  Tunde nodded, tossing the pole back into his void ring. “Can’t sleep. I might as well spend the rest of the night meditating.”

  The rest agreed and returned to the warmth of the building, staying together as they meditated in silent awareness, waiting for the next move from the sect. Tunde had begun to assume nothing more would happen when a loud explosion rocked the ground beneath them. They sprang to their feet and rushed toward the exit.

  In the distance, smoke billowed from the city, and a loud roar echoed through the air.

  “Something’s wrong,” Tunde said with a frown.

  “The city is under attack,” Ifa remarked thoughtfully.

  “Do we help?” Sera asked.

  “Yes. I believe it’s time we find out exactly what’s going on,” Ifa said as they moved.