Thatched yurts—some round, some rectangular, sat haphazardly around a circular plaza, though there was nothing within the plaza to indicate it as such. There couldn’t have been more than a couple dozen of these yurts comprising the whole village. Not more than sixty or seventy people could’ve lived there. It was as though demons built a village with the criteria it be finished in a single day, using as little effort as possible.
As he walked, the familiar scents of a village assaulted his nostrils. Not the least of which was dung, though whether it was Ash’va or demonic, he couldn’t say. Rag-clad barefoot demon children ran around, shrieking and shouting, happily frolicking without a care in the world.
Vir looked out for anything that might resemble a trader or provisioner’s shop, though, in a village as small as this one, he didn’t hold much hope.
He set down his pack and rummaged around. Perhaps he had some offering he could give as a gift to someone to earn their favor. That was always the custom back at Brij.
Am I really going to find supplies here? he internally asked, half to himself, half to the orb he fondled in his pocket. It was foolish, but he constantly imagined the orb lighting up and Maiya’s voice coming through. Vir had insisted on taking it with him, despite Cirayus’ warnings.
While the demon had precharged the orb, as deficient as the surroundings were, Vir could visibly see the charge dissipate. It’d only be a few hours before Cirayus had to top it off again. Though it was of another tier entirely, it was, at its core, a utility orb like Magic Lamp and Magic Lock. Which meant Vir couldn’t power it with his Ash prana.
Vir gave up looking for offerings—precious little in the Ash could be used as a gift, and gift-giving wasn’t high on Vir’s mind.
The deficient prana hit Vir almost as much as the dry heat as he walked. Earlier, he’d tested out several of his abilities. The results, while unsurprising, weren’t easy to stomach.
With Prana Current cycling as quickly as he could manage, it took a minute to restore all the prana Leap consumed. That was both not very long, and an eternity, depending on whether or not Vir was in a battle. Luckily, he could easily bank a hundred or more Leaps in his body, so that wasn’t an immediate worry.
Dance of the Shadow Demon consumed about five times the prana, and thus took substantially longer to recover from. Not that he could use that ability without compromising his identity, so the point was moot.
The core issue lay in Blade Launch and Launch Barrage. Those consumed prana with reckless abandon. He could only manage a handful of those. The exact number varied depending on whether he was firing Chakram Launch, Katar Launch, or Chakri Launch. Chakri Launch used by far the least prana of them all, while Katar Launch used the most.
As for Prana Blade, Vir found he could sustain about thirty seconds of continuous usage at full power before he ran out, and once his body had been fully drained of prana, he suspected it’d take a day or more for him to recover. The issue was he had to keep moving to new areas to sustain the recharge rate, or it’d drop to a trickle.
Still, Vir had tested using his Talents without Prana Current and found he could barely invoke a single Leap before depleting the prana in the area. Current allowed him to pull prana from a much wider area—he genuinely pitied the demons here who lacked the ability. It was why the Chitrans had seemed so weak to him before.
The other major downside of the Demon Realm was that Prana Armor now took forever to form. Previously, it’d taken a few minutes for it to coalesce back to its original strength. Now, Vir doubted very much he could ever get it to the same density as before, and when lost, it’d take days, if not a week, to reform. His armor directly competed with his body for the scarce prana. He’d have to prioritize either armor or his own pranic reserves.
It was ironic. When Vir first entered the Ash, he felt like he was drowning from the oppressive density. Now, he felt like he was suffocating from the lack of it.
Despite all of this, Vir held an overwhelming advantage over his fellow demons. An advantage that ought to scale to more prana-dense regions as well. The only unknown was the effect of tattoos. After seeing how much less potent Balancer of Scales had become, Vir wasn’t overly worried. At least, not against unaffiliated tattoos. Weakened though it may be, Cirayus’ Ultimate was still extremely formidable.
Vir approached a yurt, hesitated, and finally called out.
“Um, hello? Is anybody home?” Vir shouted, careful to emulate the accent and dialect he’d heard the Chitrans use.
Other than the dozen demonic kids, who all gave him suspicious looks, he hadn’t spotted a single person outside.
At least the face paint is working. Vir had never disguised himself as a red demon before, but reds were far more common than grays, so it made sense. It helped that Shan wasn’t around, either. The wolf, though small compared to his brothers and sisters, was still larger than any prana wolf Vir had ever seen. He also attracted attention, though unlike Neel, Shan was quite proficient at remaining out of sight when he wanted to.
Prana Vision clearly showed that most of the yurts were filled to the brim with people. While he occasionally heard chatter and sounds of shuffling, no one had come outside until now.
Vir waited a long moment. He began to wonder if the three individuals inside were ignoring him when one rose from a chair and trundled over to the entrance. All their prana signatures were incredibly dim, but Vir saw enough to tell she walked with a limp.
“We don’t get many outsiders here. Whatdya want?” the middle-aged woman snapped, a look of suspicion on her face.
“I, uh…” Vir stared at her for a moment, before deciding to take a gamble. “I’m Gargan. Looking for some supplies.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You speak odd. You with the rebellion?”
“Why would you ask that?” Vir asked.
The woman shrugged. “They’re always recruiting demons from all over. I just figured…”
Vir considered his next words carefully, sizing the woman. She wasn’t a Kothi. She lived in a poor village in the middle of nowhere, and she was clearly old enough to have lived through the sacking of Samar Patag. That, and her casual demeanor when discussing such a dangerous topic allowed Vir to guess a few things.
“And if I am?” he replied, leaving all emotion off his face.
The woman burst out grinning. “Well, then I’d tell ya to come in, come in! You’ll be needing food and shelter, ye?”
“Uh, no, actually I’d just appreciate it if you could tell me where to find some supplies,” Vir said in relief.
“Ash dung!” the woman barked.
Does she mean Ash’va dung?
“Yer stayin’ with us. Warrior like you’s gotta eat. Keep those mean muscles you got packed on, yeah? Where’d you bulk up so much, anyway? You’ve got the arms and legs of an Ash’va!”
Vir flushed at her comment. He wasn’t that big. Next to Cirayus, he was nothing. Rather, his body contained not even an ounce of fat. It made his dense, toned muscles look more prominent than they were.
“I…”
“I won’t take no for an answer, young man! You’re comin’ in and that’s that.”
The woman grabbed his wrist and pulled him along with more force than Vir thought possible.