There were a lot of people hanging around the bar.

  Ranging from babes to those brought low with age, it’s so many it almost looks like a normal day in Ralth. The many injuries, corpses, and mounds of wood break that illusion unfortunately.

  That makes Tantra sad, seeing the reality of things like this, rather than the normally desolate streets from peasants trying to find shelter in all this…whatever this is. She’s starting to run out of ways to describe all this…everything, which pisses her off a bit, she’s supposed to be verbose!

  Not the thing to focus on Tantra, not at all.

  The crowd is almost reverent when she steps out of the bar, conversation becoming a hush as she walks among them, and Tantra feels kind of awkward under all the scrutiny. It wasn’t her intention to become some sort of public figure! Not at all, but she’s not gonna tell them that, might as well let them keep up the illusion, if only for the sake of moral.

  She just keeps walking, and behind her Synthia follows, in her proper attire of course, Tantra imagines the noblewoman would die of embarrassment if so many peasants saw her dressed as a barmaid. Korthal comes next, ducking under the doorway, hammer over his shoulder instead of in his artifact, probably trying to look cool.

  Tantra doesn’t know the man very well beyond the arena, but somehow that seems perfectly in character.

  She has to walk slow, her lungs not really capable of supporting extraneous movement unless she uses Qi. There’s also a metric shitton of wounds marking her body, but that’s all being covered by her self-repairing and self-cleaning robes, how convenient for her.

  The crowd looks at them, clearly seeking something, and Tantra barely has to hold in a sigh. They want a fucking speach don’t they, good gods she’s not in the mood, can’t her brain roots put her in some sort of catatonia so she doesn’t have to deal with this shit?

  That’s a fun discovery, she’s more sane!

  Not perfectly so, but enough to where she doesn’t get lost in an unrelated train of thought in the middle of a fucking fight, soon, if it keeps trending in this direction, she’ll even lose some of her vulgarity!

  What a momentous time to be alive!

  Six children and an Erick are watching them from the rooftops as Etra is…sleeping while standing? Since when could she do that? Tantra’s going to have to ask her sometime, seems like a useful enough skill to have.

  Synthia takes a deep breath next to Tantra.

  Here we go.

  “People of Ralth!” She booms out with her lungs, projecting her voice without using a hint of Qi (considering she’s not coughing blood), which is quite impressive, “It is to my great joy that I would see your faces, after all we have suffered together, to know that there are still those to fight for is a blessing. As we speak, the army we’ve made of ourselves will find my brother and bring unto him a death he so justly deserves!”

  There is plenty of cheering at that proclamation, but Tantra has a hunch that the last part was hard for Synthia to say, if only because Tantra assumes she’s a decent person.

  “It would be cruel of me to ask more of those who have suffered so much, who have sacrificed so much, but I will ask despite this.

  Would you all walk with me to the manor, and witness the beginning of a new era for this city?”

  They explode into more cheering and hollering, and Synthia just nods, starting down the path south as people part for them and join from behind. It’s all kind of surreal, she never in a million years would have imagined something like this, mostly because of all the pointless death, but her as a figurehead leaves a kind of bitter taste in her mouth. She isn’t worthy of these peoples adoration, not at all, she’s just a silly girl who grew into a semi-competent cultivator, there are plenty stronger than her who simply decided not to fight her. Tantra imagines that has something to do with honor, even the big sword lady didn’t fight her until much later, and Tantra’s appearances on the battlefields have practically been announced for all to hear.

  Then there’s Korthal, who seems to be basking in the adoration that comes for being within their vicinity, the absolute idiot decided to fight an opponent that could kill him in an instant just to help her. Where’d he even come from anyway, was he just waiting, hoping that she’d make it behind enemy lines.

  She doesn’t know, she’s learned that the man’s kind of an idiot so he might not have had a plan at all. Kind of reminds her of Yorin, if he were more egotistical, damn she hopes the man is still alive somewhere.

  Kisrin too, she…doesn’t really know how she feels about him. She knows it’s somewhat romantic but she’s never really had those feelings before. She doesn’t know, he’s been a shoulder for her during her hardest moments, and she’s tried to reciprocate, but she doesn’t know if she’s ready for that kind of relationship.

  Might have to figure it out quickly because after all this she’s considering just throwing caution to the wind and asking him anyway, it would be nice to have some comfort after everything that’s happened.

  Walking down the same streets that she and Synthia had to sneak through for a month is a bit weird, every kilometer they travel is a few days worth of hiding and scrounging, and at the pace they're going it’ll only take a little over three hours to reach the manor.

  After everything, it’s finally over, Tantra’s almost entirely out of Qi from how much she’s used in the fighting. Even her soul Qi, she’s found that while ten seconds might give her a seizure and a heart attack, she can still survive up to twenty. She hasn’t tested any further than that, considering she isn’t keen on finding out what is a fatal amount.

  She won’t have to either, her brain is churning up ideas to supercharge her foundations so that she can maintain her boosting for longer. She just needs to get back to the sect to start…experimenting.

  Then there’s that thing Soma said about modified biology beyond the scope of Qi, maybe if she got enough merits the masters would tell her how to do that.

  Last but certainly not least, is her dao, she needs to figure out how it works. Experiment with techniques and see what resonates, potentially form a few original techniques for her own purposes.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  There are just so many ways to progress.

  She’s even considering starting a small merchant clan in the sect village if the elders would allow it, get her dream a humble start-

  Violence, not the action, but the concept, so thick in the air that Tantra can hardly breath. It is the tearing of limbs and the crushing of bones between teeth of steel, and it is everywhere. Tantra looks to her left down the street where the wrongness radiates the strongest and sees a blind man of golden scars.

  His top is exposed, creamy white robes shrugged off and only cover his lower half, what’s exposed is littered the scars glow, and each arm past the elbow is a blade made of obsidian bone, dribbling with blood. The air vibrates with a premonition of blood as Synthia confusedly turns to where she is looking.

  Tantra has felt something like this before, Rokun Daza had something like death cloaking his person, while this man carries violence on his shoulders like a burden.

  Beneath him is the corpses of so many ruby clad disciples who all look…well into integration.

  “Oh?” echoes the scraping of bone against pure steel, “someone among your number can sense me? Isn’t that an honor, to be so close to…one of your kind, who would think I’d find one in this city of all places?”

  The procession stops dead as it turns to stare at the man, and each pales in collective horror.

  “No need for that,” he laughs, molding his bone-swords into proper arms, “I have no interest in ending this little movement of yours, I am surprised that I found you though, I was just doing some casual hunting and here you are!”

  Tantra’s brain would be empty even if she didn’t have roots digging into it, who is this man? She’s never heard of a cultivator who could casually morph their biology. He starts walking towards them, and more than a few peasants back away slow, as though confronted with a bear.

  “No ones going to say anything?” he says joyfully, “a little rude, is that how this city treats its immortals?”

  There are more than a few gasps at that, and he just barks a laugh that sounds like a tree of bone with leaves of gold. His dreads sway as he shakes his head with mirth.

  “Don’t be so afraid, I won’t kill you, I have no reason to.”

  This does not reassure the crowd.

  Synthia steps forward and bows deep, “forgiveness honoured immortal, might this humble servant know your name.”

  “My name is Laketh, and you’re the noble, that would make the special one the kin killer. What a day it is indeed that I get to meet those venerated so highly by the peasantry.”

  Synthia hitches her breath.

  “Laketh Of The Sharpened Bone?”

  “You know me!” he smiles, “I’m surprised, my reputation’s been waning since I’ve abstained from the emperor's wars this past century.”

  “It is the duty of any proper noble to be familiar with the honourable immortals of Rikidan.”

  “I’m sure it is, I’m sure it is,” he waves off, “are you all headed to the manor?”

  “Yes honoured one,”

  “Would you mind if I joined you?”

  “Not at all, honoured one.”

  -

  Tantra has never felt more uncomfortable in her life, beside her is an immortal who seemingly carries the very concept of violence on his shoulders, walking joyfully in the newfound silence of the crowd. She hasn’t heard of Laketh, but any immortal is worthy of fear, and there is one so close.

  “So!” says the sharpening of steel used bone, “I haven’t got the full story of all that’s been going on around here. All I know is that Erin isn’t doing her job, you two’ve managed some kind of uprising against the new marquis, and the sects are at war. I imagine those three are connected somehow.”

  “They are honoured one.” Synthia says, “my brother has organized a coup to obtain the seat of marquis, and in so doing has led this city to chaos.”

  “I imagine he must’ve given Erin something spectacular then, perhaps some dragon bones?”

  “My family is unfortunately not in the possession of such precious artifacts.”

  “Then funded by someone else, the Jade Sol perhaps?” he says as he nudges Tantra with an elbow.

  Tantra does her absolute best not to shiver.

  “I do not see why they would,” Tantra says slowly, “though it’s the only logical conclusion one can come to, unless he provided a compelling enough argument to the Sentinel.”

  Laketh barks a loud laugh that echoes through the city and startles just about everyone on the march south, for a moment Tantra’s worried she’s offended somehow and just condemned them all to death.

  Instead he pats her gently on the back.

  “That’s hilarious kin-killer, hilarious indeed.” he laughs, “no, all the Sentinels I’ve met care little for words, she must have been given something.”

  “As you say honoured one,”

  He nods, and they keep walking.

  The crowd has grown as they’ve made their way south, disparate souls joining the march, more than a few cultivators even, though none from the greater sects. Those are mostly corpses, alongside plenty of peasants. It’s depressing how the bodies make it almost impossible to step on stone, but they don’t have the time for a pyre, so instead they walk over the bodies.

  “None of you are wondering why I’m here?” Laketh questions playfully.

  “Forgiveness honoured one, I did not want to be rude,” Synthia replies.

  “Nothing rude about it, everyones got that curiosity in their soul,” he chuckles, “well, I’m here because the emperor asked me to, alongside eleven others. We’re here, officially, to restore the peace.”

  Tantra has a feeling that there’s a ‘but’ to that statement, considering the many corpses of unknown origin that littered the ground surrounding him.

  “Now, I would tell you what’s really going on, but it seems like I’ll just have to show you instead,” a wild smile takes over his features has both his arms from the elbow down mold into a pair of obsidian blades, “ROTSE, COME OUT NOW, I KNOW YOU’RE THERE.”

  Everyone covers their ears at the magnanimous boom that is the man's voice, Synthia quite literally falling to her knees and letting out a pained scream. Tantra feels like someone’s taken her brain and pulped it with a hammer. She grabs at her head and-

  “Laketh,” A scratchy voice of predatory delight fills her ears, “you’ve truly got little to no manners! Not an hour since we landed and I‘ve already found plenty of my disciples' corpses with slashes distinct to your arms, what do you have to say for yourself?”

  Tantra looks up at a woman of sharp teeth and predatory eyes, her skin is a rippling yellow literally rippling, like a disturbed pond. Each finger carries a claw of something that pulls on reality.

  She wears the same ruby robes as the corpses Laketh was standing over earlier.

  “What can I say?” Laketh shrugs, “I just couldn’t help myself, and your sect annoys me, thought I’d vent a little on some worthy opponents.”

  “How very droll,” Rotse says, “you consider them worthy opponents? Perhaps in the dozens, but you’ve very specifically been going after smaller groups. For shame, you practically declare yourself a coward.”

  “Do I now?” Laketh says, “perhaps we should test that theory.”

  “Indeed,” Rotse nods

  Then, Tantra can just barely follow Laketh’s movement as he dashes for Rotse, apparently boosting so much using her soul Qi has somewhat acclimated her to the speed.

  Not exactly the most pressing issue.

  Obsidian blades collide with void claws and an explosion sends cobble and peasents flying, shaking the very foundations of the buildings surrounding them. Then that explosion is followed by a dozen others as the two titans engage in their duel.