Tantra can’t make sense of what’s going on.

  She hasn’t been following the series of events very closely since her brain roots, but she’s pretty sure that Ralth only has five immortals, and none of them resemble the two shaking the earth in front of her. Eleven others he said, eleven others, does that mean there are twelve immortals roaming around in this city? Multiple districts were destroyed from just four, and now there’s more? This seems excessive, too excessive, like the emperor wanted Ralth burned to the ground

  But that would be stupid, it's the only major city north of the Expanse, it’s the only deterrent for Okham-Khal, why would he want it destroyed?

  Not the time.

  Tantra grabs Synthia and slings her over her shoulders, The noblewoman doesn’t even yelp, just grunting at the sudden force. She’s used to this it seems, which is good, because once again they have to flee a battle between immortals. Tantra turns, facing the discordant mass of humanity behind her, all struggling with their footing as the multiple concussive blast from the colliding weapons quake the earth beneath them.

  Tantra takes a deep breath, boosting her lungs with a tremendous amount of Qi.

  “RUN!”

  The word comes out not as a simple word, but as its own sonic explosion, overtaking the deafening sound of immortals clashing for just a moment, signaling to the very squishy mortals the urgency to leave.

  The message is well received as the crowds scatter in any direction but forward. Another discordant frenzy of humanity, a sight she’s seen too many times as of late, and was hoping she wouldn’t have to see again.

  She joins the fleeing alongside Korthal by her side and Synthia over her shoulders, boosting her heart with just a little bit of world Qi to help her escape. She along with a couple hundred others retreat through a side street, calligae and bare feet alike slapping against cobble as they turn a corner-

  Waiting for them is a man of translucent biology, she can see the bones, muscles, and ligaments of what’s exposed of his head and arms. A strange kind of white mist travels through his vascular system alongside viscous blood. He smiles wide at the sight of them.

  “Well, well, look who lady luck decided to grace today!” says an ominous breeze of freezing mist, “I’ve only just started my search and here you are! Lined up in front of me like a row of little ducklings.”

  Tantra can still hear the explosions just a few streets down, can still feel the concussive force in the ground, but to show her back in the face of an immortal would be foolish indeed, whatever his intentions are.

  “Come now,” he says, “you’ve killed so many in this little revolt of yours, not even a word to spare before you’re all turned to charred corpses?”

  “We have no quarrel with you, honourable one,” Tantra says slowly, “we are just fleeing from a battle beyond our ken.”

  “Does it look like I care?” he chuckles, “you’ve raised your hand against the sects, like uppity little children, and now you have to be taught the consequences of such foolishness.”

  Then, a thick mist escapes his body, enveloping the crowd in a matter of seconds. Tantra, along with many others, can intuit that staying in this cloud is a bad idea. The peasants run, and Tantra jumps, Boosting her legs with magnitudes of Qi, the maximum they can handle at once, landing atop a roof.

  She turns and looks down, spotting the immortal staring at her as the clamour of humanity desperately tries to escape whatever it is he’s planning.

  He looks her dead in the eye, and gives a cold smile before snapping his fingers

  Tantra and her charge are sent flying as the mist explodes, leveling the whole street alongside all those who followed Tantra down that cursed street. She repositions Synthia into a hug, acting as a shield as they crash through a building and thump onto wooden floorboards. Tantra groans as she gets back up and checks on Synthia

  “You okay?” Tantra says.

  “No,” Synthia trembles, “not at all, why in the hells are the immortals of Goroka rampaging through the city?”

  Tantra would say something, but her ears pick up something peculiar, like a man cutting through air. Tantra immediately boosts her heart with her dao and throws Synthia out a window, summoning her club as the translucent man crashes through the roof and lands dramatically beside her.

  “Well,” he says with a smile, “at least you’re not a pushover, would be a shame considering how much those silly mortals exalt your name.”

  “What do you want?” Tantra growls.

  “Oh, I’m just in the business of exterminating pests you see, you just happen to be one of them.”

  He doesn’t seem amenable to further conversation as he throws a light jab at a speed Tantra can barely follow with her boosting.

  She backs away just enough for it to miss, and she only has a moment before she realizes her mistake.

  A clump of mist explodes in her face, she is sent flying, rolling on the floorboards before she recovers and gets on her knees.

  She tries to look at the immortal but she can’t see.

  She brings a hand up to her face and-

  Doesn’t feel skin, doesn’t even feel muscle, she just feels fractured bone.

  “Impressive,” she hears a clap, “I wouldn’t have expected one of your cultivation to survive a strike from me, even a light one.”

  Her fucking face is gone and she can’t fucking see.

  It’s okay, it’s okay, she can still track him with her hearing, half of which is also gone, but that’s okay.

  This fucking asshole exploded her face.

  “You’re a fucking cunt,” Tantra coughs out, channeling her inner Etra to voice her dissatisfaction.

  “Tsk, tsk,” he replies, “worms should stay in the dirt, they shouldn’t be challenging their gods”

  Tantra’s hearing is the only thing that saves her as she tracks him dash and sends a kick to her side that she intercepts with her kanabō.

  The metal club shatters, but it absorbs, enough the impact so only a few ribs are broken rather-

  An explosion chews a large chunk out of her side as she’s sent flying to the cobble bellow. She rolls on the street and gets to her knees, vomiting out a torrent of blood and-

  Suddenly she is enveloped by mist

  Now, Tantra has never been capable of using scales while boosting her heart, and she isn’t willing to gamble her life on a miracle, so she sacrifices her boosting to cover her entire body in three layers of hardened Qi scales

  The explosion is deafening

  She can feel bones fracturing, heat sears through her wounds, and her intestines rupture.

  Why is this happening?

  It was so close to being over, just one conversation with Erin once Synthia establishes herself as marchioness.

  Just one conversation.

  Tantra grits her teeth and reinstates her heart boosting, barely able to dodge the flying axe kick before it would collide with her skull. She knows the drill by now, she brings up her arm to cover her head as an explosion burns through her arm and exposes bone.

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  She reorients herself and-

  The exploding man is punched in the face by something,(damned be her lack of vision) and is sent flying.

  “Rothkar,” barks the falling meteor, “you’d dare bully one so far beneath you? For shame! Though what can I really expect from scum.”

  “Get out of my way Banzan,” the man she assumes is Rothkar spits out, “I’d gladly burst that insufferable face of yours, but I’m busy dealing with a few uppity fools.”

  “What a solemn duty!” says meat cooked over hot coals, “truly, you are burdened with such responsibility. You can lament your misfortune as I force you to eat your still beating heart.”

  Tantra barely has the presence of mind to realise that a panicking Synthia has gone to her side and holding her up as she barely maintains consciousness. Her injuries are catching up with her, it’s hard to move, hard to breathe, hard to think-

  Someone lands in front of Tantra, and she curses her fate as surely it’s another immortal, she raises the handle of what remains of her club at the figure.

  “How cute,” says the opening of a scroll, “but don’t worry now little hero, I’m more a healer than fighter, and you are just a canvas of grievous wounds now aren’t you?”

  “Don’t forget the other one,” Banzan says, “she was close enough to this bastard’s techniques, and she’s mortal.”

  “Yes, yes, I’m well aware of how to do my job, you just focus on your fight.” Tantra gets the impression of someone rolling their eyes, “Now let’s look at this mess, it would be a crying shame if the people's heroes were to die so unceremoniously.”

  -

  Banzan grunts as he turns to face Rothkar, the translucent bastard giving him an expression of unbridled fury. Tough shit, with all his power he’s chosen to be scum, and Banzan cares little for the opinions of scum

  “This is your last chance to move, dullard” Rothkar growls, sounding like frozen condensation waiting for a spark, “my business is with those two”

  “What a crying shame that is for you then,” Banzan mocks, “because I give just about zero shits. These two are important for this city, and I refuse to let your dumbass pride be their end”

  “You act as though you can stop me,” Rothkar scoffs as he starts to produce and condense mist around his arms, he stares at Banzan with pupils of waxing white, “don’t you remember what happened the last time we fought?”

  “That was decades ago,” Banzan manifests his mace, a precious thing made of the bones of a drake. He’s always wanted one made from a dragon but even he isn’t fool enough to challenge one of those alone.

  “Things change,”

  “Not as dramatically as you’d need,” Rothkar snorts

  The mist condolences around his arms until they are almost solid, and Banzan can feel the cold from here, Rothkar takes a step forward, then another.

  “Really?” Banzan raises a brow, “I’m immortal Rothkar, intimidation tactics so plain aren’t going to scare me.”

  Rothkar shrugs, “it was worth a shot.”

  Then stone shatters as the man propels himself with an explosion, flying towards Banzan. Banzan starts his engine, heat radiating throughout his body as muscles bulge and his body grows, he puts a hand of segmented stone to the floor and a tidal wave of granite rises to crash into Rothkar.

  The man punches the wave and sets off an explosion.

  The wave parts, granite flying everywhere, a few plinking off Banzan’s segmented skin, and many flying through the surrounding buildings where he hears more than a few screams.

  Fuck.

  Rothkar charges at him as he re-condenses the mist on his right arm, swinging his left in a hook that collides with Banzan’s stomach, the blow is followed by an explosion that tears through his guts as he brings down his mace on the man’s skull, sending him crashing into the ground, making a small crater.

  Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to make an opening.

  Banzan raises his mace again-

  And the surroundings are enveloped with a metric shitton of mist, suddenly Banzan is flying through the air, crashing into cobble as his ears ring something fierce. He growls and gets up only to ding the other gone.

  He blinks and searches with his senses.

  Above him.

  He looks up just in time to block an axe kick with his mace, the following explosion sending his main arm crashing down as he layers his off-hand’s fist with granite and enlarges it with the heat of his engine.

  He punches the man in his stomach.

  Spittle and blood are freed from his mouth as he’s sent flying through the air, just slow enough to where Banzan can follow, smashing his mace into the translucent man before he can hit the ground and sending him crashing into a building.

  Banzan can hear the screams of mortals in the building.

  Oh fuck.

  He dashes as fast as he can, enlarging the hole Rothkar made due to his growth, and lands just and stops just a few meters away from the mortal. There to the left, a mother and father shielding a child as Rothkar stares at him with a deep hatred.

  He notices Banzan’s glancing and smiles, extending his arm and sending a wisp of mist.

  Banzan crashes his fist into the floor, and a wall of granite rises to sever the building in two, shielding the family from both of them as Rothkar barks a laugh and sends himself flying with an explosion at his feet.

  Banzan doesn’t have the time to react as one of his fists collides with his face, and the world is made into a blur as a quarter of his head is blasted off. Fuuuuck, he hates brain damage. His body seems to agree as he feels a fierce headache coming on because of the godsdamned bastard.

  Banzan expresses his dissatisfaction by slamming his mace into the mortals chest, crushing him between his weapon and the granite wall, making a fissure of cracks that match the sounds of fractures that grace Banzans ears.

  He smiles, slamming his mace into the man again and again-

  His leg feels cold.

  Why does his leg feel cold?

  He looks down to find solid mist condensed around his left leg, his eyes widen and-

  An explosion so grand it shatters their side of the building and part of the granite wall, Banzan yells out his pain as Rothkar drives a fist into his stomach and ignites another massive explosion, sending the man flying.

  Rothkar emerges from the destroyed building and spits out blood to the side.

  “Should have minded your own Banzan,” he growls, “now your sects going to be leaderless for the next decade, I wonder how much damage I can do this time.”

  “Fuck off,” Banzan coughs as he looks down at his leg.

  Yup, he’s going to need Uai Ta to look at that before he’ll be able to walk again.

  “How verbose,” Rothkar says dryly.

  Banzan smiles and Rothkar blinks in confusion.

  Until a jian jams into skull, twists, then is torn upwards out of his skull.

  Rothkar stumbles and Banzan sends a stone spike through his stomach, pinning him in place as Uai Ta continues to wail unto his skull.

  -

  Tantra stands over the corpse of an immortal, one who not a moment ago was determined to see her dead. From what she can tell he had a chip on his shoulder for mortals and cultivators that would dare aid them, seems a bit childish for a man who’s surely a few centuries old at the minimum, but who’s she to judge?

  She’s only nineteen, and her puny understanding surely can’t compare to the broad scope of knowledge bestowed to this bastard through the passage of time.

  Perhaps there wasn’t some sage reason at all, perhaps he’s just heartless

  How many peasants stood behind her in their flight from the scarred immortals battle? Hundreds surely, plenty choosing to follow the mighty kin-killer in the hopes that she might save them.

  What a joke.

  Instead of safety, all they found was death, engulfed by such a powerful explosion. Were Etra and Erick there? Were the kids? Korthal was beside her so he’s probably dead.

  She doesn’t know though, for any of them, so she refuses to mourn until she’s scoured this city.

  What was the point of this?

  She’s found herself asking that question a lot lately, so many atrocities to breed so many questions. She can’t really understand the cruelty behind the minds of people like the immortal. He hunted them because they fought back against the sects, but why would he even care? They weren’t his sect, was he just looking for an excuse to slaughter rather than admit that he’s a psychopath?

  “Truly fascinating,” Uai Ta says as she examines Tantra’s head, “the roots have fused with your biology, if I wasn’t a witness to such a strange occurrence I’d have a hard time believing it, this came from a technique?”

  Tantra just nods absently, staring at the corpse, this doesn’t seem like the best time for the healer to engage in whatever she’s doing, scribbling something down on a scroll as she observers the right side of Tantra’s head.

  “It’s got vitality,” she says breathlessly, “a living technique? Or did you do something to it?”

  “I don’t know, does it matter?” Tantra shrugs.

  “Of course it does! In all my life I’ve never seen something like this, that alone makes it worthy of extensive study.”

  “Can you get rid of it?” Synthia asks.

  “Of course I can, but why would I want to do such a thing?”

  “To be a decent person?” Banzan ventures as he nurses his recently healed leg.

  “Please,” Uai Ta rolls her eyes, “we stopped being people a long time ago.”

  “That,” he says, “is an unfounded opinion.”

  “Why was it so short?” Tantra interrupts, and the two immortals alongside Synthia look at her in confusion, “the fight between the sect leaders lasted almost a week, yet this was just a few seconds.”

  “We’re sect leaders too you know,” Uai Ta raises a brow.

  Tantra just gives her a tired look, unable to muster the energy for proper respect, in front of her stands the leaders of The Jewel In The Dragon’s Eye and The Titans That Walk respectively, beings that could kill her with a sneeze.

  Yet for whatever reason they saved her and Synthia.

  Why?

  Does she care enough to ask?

  Not really.

  “They likely weren’t actually trying to kill each other, just waste one anothers Qi so they couldn’t interfere with their sects slaughtering each other,” Banzan grunts, “wouldn’t be much of a trial if an immortal were part of the picture.”

  Really?

  They fought for so long, killing so many, destroying so much, all for that?

  Couldn’t they have just not interfered in the first place?

  “Fuck, I hate cultivator culture,” Tantra says aloud.

  Banzan snorts, “so do I kid, so do I.”