“I’ve led him astray,” Cirayus muttered, watching Vir run around collecting firewood and brush. What is that lad up to this time?
When Cirayus had first met Sarvaak, he’d found in him a hardworking, earnest warrior—if somewhat inexperienced. He’d been one to use his wits to overcome problems, and now he relied on it more than ever, favoring complex strategies to bring down his foes.
Strategizing was fine and well, and Cirayus had enough battlefield command experience never to underestimate a skilled tactician, but some situations demanded raw power. Such as fighting stupidly powerful Ash Beasts.
He’d hoped Vir would find that strength here—or at least pursue that path to power, growing his physical capabilities and Talents rather than winning with clever tricks.
Yes, the lad learned magic to augment his speed, and this was worthy of praise. It was, however, hardly sufficient. Every Akh Nara possessed a certain ability that made them something more than the sum of their parts, but nobody knew what. There were the tattoos, yes, and the Ash prana, but there was another ability they wielded that served to drastically augment their durability, mobility, and damage.
The Demon Realm was not a bountiful place. Prana was universally scarce, and many demons grew up below their potential. Yet even in such a land, the Akh Nara shone like a sun.
The lad had been impressed by Balancer of Scales, but what would he feel when he saw the ability sputter and fail for the lack of prana to power it? No matter the ability, be it Chitran’s Demonic Overlord or Panav’s Ultimate Sacrifice, all consumed prana with reckless abandon.
What would Vir say when he learned that several Ultimate Bloodline Arts could not even activate in many parts of the Demon Realm?
He’d be disappointed, without a doubt. Heartbroken. But what’s more—he’d be weak.
Not so the Akh Nara. Jalendra found a way. Shardul found a way. They bypassed that limitation. They wield tattoos in places no one else could, with power no one else could muster.
Alas, if only I knew more. Cirayus might have been one of the few demons alive to even know of this secret ability, but it wasn’t enough to help.
I only hope the lad realizes there is no substitute for strength before it’s too late.
Vir was convinced that guile and strategy were the perfect substitutes for strength. Against the monsters of the Ashen Realm, there was no hope of matching them blow for blow. To attempt it would be a fool’s errand.
To win, he had to play to his strengths. Surprise and intellect.
After observing the ground squirrel nest for a full day, Vir had made some interesting discoveries.
Though the tunnels numbered in the dozens, crisscrossing in a vast maze underground, only a handful of entrances led into the system. By tracing each tunnel to the surface, Vir tracked them down, one by one.
If he was honest, he didn’t feel comfortable fighting such an enemy. Their incredible speed and numbers meant he could easily end up like the Garga Cirayus had led into the mutated cultists’ den.
While Vir might find success initially, he could easily be swarmed. Death by a thousand cuts. An all-too-likely scenario when Dance of the Shadow Demon couldn’t be relied upon to escape.
Best to avoid fighting if he could help it. Luckily, circumstances afforded him a way to do exactly that. Not only did the squirrels—called Tuskers for their long tusks—live underground, a lightning storm had shown they were deathly afraid of fire as well.
Vir set the final batch of firewood down just outside the enemy’s domain, beside some wet brush he’d gathered. For the firewood, he’d simply sliced open a dead tree and quartered its trunk into logs.
The resident Ash Tear had come to watch. The gate seemed to be taking an awfully keen interest in his goings-on lately. Vir almost felt like the gate was trying to hide said interest. It never appeared too close, and usually closed almost immediately. But it always hung around longer when Vir was doing something interesting. Be it fighting a beast or running around gathering supplies.
As long as it doesn’t get in my way, Vir thought.
The plan was simple—block each entrance and light smoky fires. The smoke would do the rest. A terrible way to die, but it was either that, or wait until he was stronger, and Vir had already wasted enough time here. Besides, Vir knew without a doubt that Cirayus wouldn’t have been happy if he fought them head-on like a brute.
Timing was key. Vir had plotted the most efficient order to light the fires, but his time was limited. The enemy would respond quickly, so he’d have to dart in, light the fire, and retreat to his domain before the squirrels pursued.
Then he’d have to do it four more times.
Vir loaded firewood and wet brush into his rucksack, piling in as much as it could hold, then cut some wood shavings for tinder.
Before long, a fire roared at the edge of his domain. Vir carefully lit the ends of five logs before inserting them into the very top of his rucksack, cinching them tight.
Then he took a deep, even breath, and Leaped to the farthest hole.
With Haste active, Vir dropped the rucksack and stuck a burning log into the opening. It wasn’t quite large enough to fill the entire hole, but that didn’t matter too much; few animals ever ran toward a fire. Vir covered the opening with the wet brush, then moved to the second hole.
Working even faster, he plugged this one then Blinked to the third, making his way steadily back to his domain.
Only two more to go! he thought.
Vir dropped the rucksack at the next hole… and was forced to jump aside when a claw swiped across his face.
The first Tusker had arrived, and where there was one, there were always more. Many more.
Badrak it!
The beasts poured out of the remaining two holes in droves—he’d failed. The whole plan hinged on trapping the Tuskers in their lair.
Vir Leaped back to his domain, returning their baleful glares with as much hate as he could muster.
“Why don’t you come out here and fight me!” Vir roared, but the beasts didn’t respond to his threats. He didn’t rightly know why he said something like that; he’d die just as easily in his domain as in theirs. He just wanted to vent his anger, and they happened to be the closest target.
Vir watched as his fire logs burned to coals. All that effort, wasted. I should’ve just meditated instead. Wait. Is Cirayus smiling?
The giant shifted his expression the instant Vir looked at him, but there was no mistaking it. He’s happy I failed?
Vir couldn’t bring himself to accept that the giant would act so juvenile. There had to be some greater meaning behind his smile. Was he seeing something Vir hadn’t?
Casting his gaze back at the Tusker Den, Vir found only traces of smoke from his fire logs.
Were those holes always that big? Vir wondered idly. He was about to move on when the realization hit him. It’s big enough to enter!
The entire colony stood against him, just ten paces away, as if daring him to attack. But that also meant their home was empty.
This can work! Vir thought, wondering if Fate was smiling on him today. Cirayus must have noticed it as well. Perhaps he thought it was some part of Vir’s plan? It wasn’t, but Vir wasn’t about to tell the giant that.
Dropping his rucksack, Vir Blinked into the air, shooting over the Tuskers. The instant his boot touched the ground, Vir Leaped to the hole, and dove into the tunnel headfirst. Into the shadow that swallowed him whole.