“S-sure,” Maiya said, half in disbelief. She was sure she’d have a fight on her hands.
The Silent Man came up and put his large hand on Maiya’s slim shoulder, squeezing it gently.
She looked up to see him nod back.
“You… really don’t say anything, do you?” Yamal asked.
The Silent Man shook his head.
“You’re mute,” Maiya said softly.
The man nodded.
Maiya surveyed the field of slaughter. Half of the fifty that arrived were dead, their bodies brutally cut open on the ground. The other half regarded Maiya with zealous eyes, full of appreciation. Appreciation, and something else. Something like awe, only greater.
That’s a win, I guess? Maiya thought, turning away from them to regard the Rector.
Against all odds, the prostrating man had somehow survived, head buried into the ground. Maiya could’ve flung her greatest spells around, and he wouldn’t have noticed a thing.
The Rector slowly brought his head up. “We survive! Blessed are we! Blessed and chosen!”
“So, we pass?” Yamal asked.
The Rector shook his head furiously. “Yes. Y-you pass! You all pass!”
Maiya sighed. She didn’t know whether to be elated or terrified. She shook off those emotions for now, resolving to make the best of this ordeal.
She turned to the giant next to her and smiled. “I’m Maiya,” she said, extending a hand. “How’d you like to join up with me?”
56BROTHERS IN ARMS
Barren plains gave way to ash-filled swamp marshes, then blackened forests that ran for hundreds of miles. From arduous mountain passes to jagged cliffs, the trio made short work of it all, stopping only to rest, eat, and gather food and water.
The skies grew darker, the lightning storms fiercer.
They’d traveled for nearly two weeks when Cirayus’ guidance Artifact finally began to show signs of life. The entire time, Vir consoled himself in the knowledge that the deeper they penetrated, the more time would slow.
Since then, they’d followed its direction, the orb’s light growing brighter and brighter. It was guiding them to something. Only, neither of them knew what, precisely. As Cirayus had informed Vir during their journey, the Artifact was sometimes attracted to ancient pieces of Imperium creation. For what purpose, none could say.
The entire time, they’d avoided Ash Beasts whenever possible. Not entirely out of fear, but practicality as well. Fighting spent energy and slowed them down. While Vir could always use the experience, Cirayus kept telling him that the opponents deeper into the Ash would be more worthy of his time.
Unfortunately, the realm had other plans. Vir noticed the beasts had not only become stronger—with more and more wielding offensive chakras that forced Vir to flee—but they were also mentally unstable. Shredders would follow them for hours on end, struggling to keep up with Vir and Cirayus’ bounding pace. Some even fell over from exhaustion.
It was as if their self-preservation instincts had been burned away, leaving addled monsters driven by primitive instinct.
Ironically, Vir suspected more Ash Beasts didn’t use chakras not because they were physically incapable, but because their broken minds prevented it.
Still, their tremendous strength and their madness made for a dangerous combination. Vir and Cirayus had been forced to fight off the horde they’d accumulated whenever they wished to stop and rest.
He now understood that the Ashen Realm’s dangers didn’t end with prana poisoning and the occasional beast encounter. The infernal things followed relentlessly, and unless one had the ability to beat back hordes of them, their time in the Ash would be very short-lived.
The fights had been brutal… and exhilarating. Vir thought his newfound strength would allow him to best the beasts with ease—and it would have, had chakra not been involved. Cirayus targeted them exclusively, leaving the rest for Vir.
Unfortunately, he also insisted Vir challenge himself by taking on handicaps.
“There is no value in an easy win,” the giant had said.
And so, Vir fought. Barehanded. One-handed. Limited to only his prana claws. Limited to Prana Darts. He’d even fought blindfolded, alternating between weapons that Cirayus threw to him during battle. One moment, he’d be using his fists, and the next, a polearm. Then a talwar, followed by Prana Darts.
Vir’s understanding of combat tactics and strategy had been tempered by dozens of battles and honed by Cirayus’ teachings.
While Vir still couldn’t compare to the giant’s military wisdom—developed over a lifetime—he now fought with an efficient brutality he’d never had. Calm. Calculated. Surgical. It was still his old style, just elevated.
And in all that time, through all those battles, Vir had barely glimpsed Shan. The aloof wolf would generally only return to their side to rest. At all other times, he’d ranged off on his own. Vir initially worried the beast had gotten lost, but the wolf would inevitably show up hours later. After three or four times of this, Vir learned not to worry.
Even so, he felt like a barrier existed between them. They weren’t truly partners. Not yet.
“Worrying about your new friend again?” Cirayus asked.
“I just don’t know what he wants. He wasn’t like this at Mahādi,” Vir said. Over the past week, he’d spoken at length about his experiences there, answering Cirayus’s hundreds of questions about every detail. Vir didn’t mind—it’d helped to pass the hours of monotony.
“A fight, I think,” Cirayus replied, cooly swinging Sikandar and bisecting a half dozen Raptors that had gotten too close.
Even after seeing it in action so many times, Vir was still awed every time the giant wielded the enormous weapon. Sikandar was the perfect synergy of the giant’s abilities. His mighty strength, Balancer of Scales, and tall stature allowed Cirayus to swing the heavy, unwieldy weapon as if it were a feather. By multiplying its weight right before the moment of impact, its lethality was truly an awesome sight to behold.
“Why would Shan want to fight me?” Vir asked, continuing the conversation.
“Not fight you. Fight with you,” Cirayus said. He continued upon seeing Vir’s confusion. “Lad, I’ve trained my fair share of beasts in my life. Even trained with the Aindri for several years. They have a saying up north—your beast isn’t your companion until you’ve braved death together.”
“The Aindri?” Vir asked.
“A clan of demons specializing in beast taming. Their whole society is centered around communing with animals. Even their Bloodline Arts revolve around them.”
“That… sounds smart,” Vir thought. It was always an advantage to go into battle with capable allies. Cirayus was living proof. But sapient organisms had lives to live. Obligations to fulfill. They couldn’t always be relied on to be there.
Unlike beasts. Neel had fought by his side ever since leaving Brij. The only times Vir had left him behind were out of fear for his safety. Vir felt like he might share more than a little in common with this clan.
“I’m assuming their beasts are quite capable in combat?” Vir asked.
“Aye. You’ll never see an Aindri go into battle alone. Their connection to the natural world is far beyond that of other demons. They can command their creatures on a level I’ve never seen. When it comes to beasts, I trust them more than anyone else.”
“The thing is,” Vir said, frowning, “we have fought together. Nearly died to that Yaksha Automaton in Mahādi, in fact. We’ve both saved each other more than once.”
“Aye, which I imagine is why it followed you back in the first place. But you see, the wolf wasn’t yours back then, was it? Its loyalty still lay with the Goddess Ashani.”