The bright yet chilly morning sun carried a gloomy premonition as Tunde and the others stepped out of their quarters. Awaiting them was a formation of dozens of Lords, led by Nue and three other Highlords who stood beside her, one Lord holding the sect’s banner aloft, its symbol flapping in the wind.

  Tunde felt Nue’s gaze on him as he stepped forward, the Lords behind her bowing at the waist despite their equal rank. Tunde nodded to her as she inclined her head, saying, “Emissary, all is ready.”

  “Then let’s be on our way,” he replied. Nue turned to the Lords and raised her hand.

  They moved as one, descending the hill in a silent procession of cultivators, passing through Ashhaven as though in a funeral march. Sera and the others followed close behind Tunde, with Zhu at his side, the creature’s uneasiness spilling over to him. Tunde resisted the urge to summon his naginata.

  The city itself was hushed, as if the news of their mission had spread far and wide. Tunde had expected an enthusiastic send-off but remembered the Forgesmith’s words. The people of Ashhaven were generational prisoners, bound against their will by a concept they hadn’t chosen, in a home they had no choice but to defend.

  The only sound was the steady rhythm of marching feet. Tunde shuddered slightly, his gaze drifting to the unfamiliar Highlords accompanying them, save for Nue, who led the march. They murmured quietly among themselves.

  A burst of power above drew his gaze upward, where a floating cloud hovered, carrying Mei and Fen. Tunde raised an eyebrow.

  “An interesting construct,” he murmured.

  “You don’t have those where you’re from?” one of the Highlords—a large figure—joked at Tunde’s expense, but Tunde simply blinked at him.

  “No,” he replied evenly, as Ifa snorted softly, amused by the Highlord’s awkward recovery.

  “Cultivators of the Ashen Flame Sect,” Mei’s voice rang out from above, “too long have we been terrorized by those barbaric creatures of the Dark Forest. Today, it ends.”

  “We will drive them from the lands of the Empire, strike down their so-called Ape King. Fight with all your strength, for the sect leader watches over us!” she finished as the Lords roared in response.

  Tunde’s attention shifted to the far end of the procession, where another group of cultivators advanced toward them, also led by two Highlords—this time, both women. It seemed the sect was drawing on all its strength. Tunde glanced at Sera and the others, who returned nods of understanding.

  Rui Talahan appeared out of nowhere, her form blending with the environment so seamlessly that Tunde couldn’t help but be impressed.

  “Under the venerable guidance of the emissaries sent by the Imperial Clan, we shall reclaim all that these vile beasts have stolen from us—a tribute to those lost to them,” she proclaimed. The Lords of the Ashen Flame Sect, including Rui, fell to their knees.

  “WE GREET THE EMISSARIES!” they thundered. Tunde remained silent, recognizing their disciplined display.

  Bowing in response, he replied, “I am ever in your care,” as a loud horn sounded, signalling the cultivators to quicken their steps.

  They soon left the city, passing the southern mountain, where Tunde felt a faint tremor of raw power coursing through the terrain—a confirmation of Ifa’s theory regarding the mountain’s latent power. The tiled paths transitioned to the dark forest’s gloomy outskirts, where Tunde began sensing a feral, tainted power emanating from within—a brutish energy reminiscent of the mountain apes’ first attack.

  The cloud vanished, and Mei, Fen, and the Highlords positioned themselves along the edges, while Ifa remained beside Tunde, hands folded behind his back.

  “Best we announce ourselves,” Mei said, producing a blade as ash and shadow Ethra swirled around it. She swung it in an arc toward the dark forest, the attack streaking into the distance until it exploded against an unseen target. A cacophony of roars erupted from beyond the southern wall as a horn blared, and the cultivators surged forward.

  Tunde drew his naginata from his Void ring, and Ifa, holding a simple floating blade, glanced at him. “You know the plan,” he said, then shot skyward. Overhead, the Lords flew by, carried by their aura as they raced for the trees, with Fen and Mei leading the charge.

  The cultivators under Tunde’s command moved with him as he advanced, racing across the landscape into the dark forest. Tunde’s Ethra sight illuminated the path before him, rendering the light crystals carried by other cultivators unnecessary. Sera and Zehra flanked him, and he saw the flood of mountain apes surging toward them.

  “Enemies ahead!” he shouted, lunging forward. His naginata cut through the horde, imbued with raw aura, slicing cleanly through them. Rough-hewn rocks charged with beast Ethra hurtled through the air, crashing into cultivators who couldn’t evade in time.

  Tunde’s Void Realm came alive, siphoning Ethra from the attacks as he deflected the stones. Zhu screeched beside him, his aura crippling the apes with fear before he tore into them with ferocity.

  The battle was brutal, chaotic, screams ringing out as techniques, both refined and crude, flew in all directions. For every ape slain, two more took its place, as if their numbers were endless. Tunde dispatched one that leaped in front of him, splitting it in half as he spun his naginata, his Void Realm weakening the creatures before he cut them down.

  He could feel his companions’ Ethra blazing around him—a field of blood swirling around Sera as she skewered ape after ape with her serrated blade, Slaughter. Zehra’s icy attacks left shattered, frozen remains in her wake. Daiki’s staff crushed ape after ape with brutal efficiency, reminding Tunde that the monk, though disciplined, was a formidable cultivator.

  The booming crashes of Highlord techniques echoed in the distance as Tunde pushed through the relentless tide. Around him, the aura-infused realms of other Lords began to falter under the strain, but his Void Realm endured, perfectly designed to conserve Ethra while amplifying his deadly aura.

  The apes started focusing their attacks on him, disregarding the other Lords, who took advantage of this to slice through the creatures faster—a storm of frozen blades and bloody techniques carving a path through the battlefield. Bodies and cores littered the ground as they pressed on.

  They soon felt it—a taint emanating from the heart of the rift, prompting calls to reinforce their bodies with aura against the rift’s corrupt Ethra, which had seeped into the landscape, transforming lush plants and trees into hardened blends of earth and steel—no doubt a result of the Arcanist relic’s influence.

  But they were still far from the peaks’ borders and the rift itself. Had the Ashen Flame Sect allowed the corruption to spread this far? Tunde hissed, dodging a projectile and twisting through the air, his Void Forge sending a spear hurtling forward, shattering two apes before he landed.

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  Breathing lightly, he waited as the other cultivators caught up, flicking the blood off his naginata. Sera and the others stood beside him, while Zhu lurked within the branches, ever vigilant.

  Tunde scanned the cultivators behind him, the Lords of the Ashen Flame Sect, their cores moderately full, some with spare weapons at the ready. He hoped he was wrong about his suspicions, but he signaled for them to press on.

  “Apologies, honored emissary,” a Lord behind him said, “but where is the Highlord? We’re nearing the rift.”

  “He’s with us. Watching,” Tunde replied, reassuring them as they pushed through the devastated landscape. The lingering energy of the Highlords’ techniques was evident, calming the Lords’ fears that they’d been abandoned to the apes.

  “Tunde,” Sera whispered, and he nodded. “I know,” he replied, pressing onward.

  Ahead, a faint yet ominous glow burned on the horizon, and as they drew closer, they noticed scattered clusters of Ethra crystals jutting from the ground, each emitting a dull purple light. The cultivators readied themselves, aware that an ambush could strike at any moment. But Tunde’s gaze remained fixed on the distance, where flickering bonfires of aura illuminated the landscape ominously.

  As if responding to the approach of these forces, the entire battalion came to a halt, each cultivator tensing as they felt a powerful presence.

  “Is that…?” Daiki asked hoarsely, unable to finish.

  “Yes,” Tunde replied, faring better from his experience with masters. “The Ape King,” he said grimly, watching as the sect leader’s blazing presence surged forward to confront the beast.

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

  Ifa had followed the vice sect leader and her small army of Lords and Highlords, led by Fen, the supposed brother and general of the sect. He refrained from smiling or letting his emotions peek through the runic array of silence and refraction he had wrapped around himself, allowing his form to simply reflect the skies around him.

  Infidelity wasn’t something he was new to, not even during his own age and time; it was nice to see some things did persist, though. Arms folded behind him, he watched them fly over the dark forest, feeling the rampage of Tunde and the rest as he left them far behind, heading for the rift itself.

  The roars of the mountain apes came through the air from beneath them as an entire force headed straight for their king. The Lords among the forces intercepted any attack that came too close, ensuring the force neither slowed down nor faltered, even at the expense of a few of their number from the quite agile apes who managed to snatch them through the air, tearing into those they could. Fen, the supposed leader and general, did nothing.

  Ifa had also taken notice of the distinct Lords, nodding at his and Tunde’s assumptions as he watched it play out quietly, wondering just how long it had been in play. If there was one thing he would applaud Mei for, it was her meticulousness in planning all that had happened—too bad they came along at that point.

  The rift, lodged between a shattered hill, had grown, entire armies of mountain apes calling its surroundings home as they flared with their Ethras, baring their fangs in a roar, their Highlord and Lord realm auras rippling through the air in a conflagration of power. This was the real deal, the main force of the Ape King, and Ifa could only frown in alarm at the numbers.

  Too long had the rift festered; too long had the mountain apes drunk deep from its corroded and tainted Ethra, twisting them and transforming them into powerful creatures. Most retained their sanities, especially the Highlords, or tier 5s among them, who began to marshal their troops.

  “Fen,” Mei said softly as the general nodded, his void ring opening as large constructs began to pour out, clearly of Artificer origin. The hypocrisy of the empire in its supposed lip service to the Heralds and their fight against the technocracy never ceased to amuse or surprise him. There was only so much you could lie to yourself about the superior constructions of the Artificers, especially when it came to warfare.

  Large cannons, brimming with all sorts of Ethras, powered to life, fueled by the Highlords all around as they rained destruction around the base of the rift. Arcs of lightning forked down with deadly precision, flames burned like an inferno of hail, acid washed through the ranks of the mountain apes, who fought back, entire boulders large enough to crush a house flying through the air as they crushed cultivator after cultivator of the sect out of the way, clearing the path for even stronger apes. Ifa noticed, eyebrows raising.

  These were armored, almost as if the apes had discovered smithing or forging. Was this also an effect of the relic? And if yes, just what grade was it to have influenced the creatures this way?

  Ifa shuddered with concern as a thought crossed his mind. What had it done to the Ape King himself?

  He shook off the foreboding feeling as he watched the armored apes—no, the armor was their skin, he realized with even more growing horror. His eyes went from the dying apes around to the ones who just stepped out of the rift, watching as the liquid metal skin rippled with Ethra, and they shot toward the sect’s forces with such speed and force that, had he not been a master, he would have found it hard to follow.

  “You come to the king’s domain? Die!” the leader of the apes roared, his aura rippling with the sound, tearing through what remained of the Lord rankers within the sect’s forces with such brutality that it had Ifa reeling. They clashed with the Lords, who were more or less their match, while Mei carved her way through them, metal skin or not, merely having to dodge a few of their more dangerous attacks.

  It made no sense, and yet it did at the same time. While true beasts were indeed sentient and could transform into human form from at least the Lord rank—assuming they had access to essence flames, which would no doubt be supplied by their king—it didn’t explain their skill with aura.

  The entire sky thundered with their attacks as the fast, brutal battle broke out. Mei pushed down, her form rippling with shadow Ethra as she dodged through the apes’ attacks with ease, her weapon, which Ifa was beginning to suspect was a soulbound one, shearing through them as she inched closer to the rift’s entrance, joined by Fen, who left the Highlords above to descend and support her, more constructs pouring out of his void ring.

  It was pure destruction all around them, the charred, liquefied, and ruined forms of the apes lying about as they aimed the cannons and other constructs toward the rift, firing them simultaneously. Ifa wondered about their agreement to plunder the rift if their plan was to cave it in when a powerful presence revealed itself, Ifa feeling the runes that kept him hidden begin to wane in power.

  It felt like a terrible beast had been unleashed, the battle around waning as a figure stepped out of the rift, raw power only a master would have exuding from his form. Ifa sucked in a breath, understanding flowing through him as he stared at the glowing blade in the hand of the monster who stared down the two Highlords before bellowing out a laugh.

  The Ape King, in all his beastly glory, was a true sight to behold: pale yellow eyes, flowing white hair atop his head, and a muscular form that had no reason to be on the creature. As if called, another master-ranked power burned to life behind them, in the direction of Ashhaven itself. In a blink, it was close by, floating above them before landing in front of the Ape King.

  Veyra Talahan had all the presence of a master, ash and flames swirling around him, pushing against the raw aura of the Ape King, who shouldered his abnormally large, crude blade on one shoulder, the wickedly sharp weapon held in one hand.

  “Are you so eager to die?” the Ape King asked. “Did you not run back to your little hideout like a coward? You dare show your face in front of me again?” he continued.

  “There is nothing left of your people. You will die here today, Ape King!” Mei snarled as Ifa tutted softly, if only she meant it. Satisfied with the scenes in front of him, he watched keenly.

  “Betrayer,” the king snarled as he swung his blade, the air screaming with the raw Ethra it gathered.

  Ifa was about to throw open his domain and tear off his shroud as he felt the strength of the attack, knowing nothing would be left of the dark forest behind them. Veyra moved as well, his palm slamming into the king’s chest, shooting him straight into the rift as he followed as well.

  Mei and Fen followed, the remaining Highlords attempting to follow through when Ifa suddenly revealed himself and cut them down just as quickly as they were about to raise the alarm of his presence, allowing their blood to stain both him and his features—a shame, though; he loved the robe.

  Soon enough, figures began to emerge from the dark forest, led by Tunde and the rest, who appeared unharmed. Eyes warily glancing around, they took in the scale of the massacre that had taken place all around them. Cultivators retched, some growing even paler as Ifa locked eyes with Tunde, who nodded, Ifa nodding back at him.

  Making their way through the dead, they reached Ifa, who put on a somber look.

  “Cultivators of Ashen Flame, we have no time to waste! The venerable vice sect leader and general have laid waste to the armies of the Ape King!” he roared, as they shouted in victory. Ifa raised his hand.

  “This is just the beginning. Beyond that rift lies even more forces of the king and our leaders. Quickly! For the Ashen Flame Sect!” he said as the forces began to pour through, Ifa winking at Tunde as he once again vanished.

  “Be careful. You see it too, don’t you?” the ethereal voice of the elder said as Tunde nodded a fraction.

  Good. The plan was going well so far, but the next stage would be even bloodier, and there would be no going back after that.