Buildings flashed by. Running madly and dodging people and carts, Verus soon found himself in a part of the city he’d never been before. He was at a loss over what to do next, so he nervously stopped to look around. He didn’t hear or see the smiling spirit anymore, so he began catching his breath.

Where was he? The street here was much narrower, and everything was grimier. There also wasn’t anyone out walking here. It looked like a poor residential area, with squat square homes and lots of dark alley. It wasn’t quite a slum, but it was closer than Verus had expected to find in the capital city. The air was also humid and had a faint taste of salt to it. Had he run toward the harbor?

Heart still beating heavily, Verus flinched as he heard a faint thud from a nearby alley. Moving quickly, he dove behind a pile of barrels and hid there. He wasn’t sure how much good hiding would do against that smiling thing, but he couldn’t run forever. It had to be some sort of incredibly powerful spirit…

Three figures burst out from out of the shadows of another alley and ran into the center of the empty street before stopping to look around. At first, Verus was relieved to see they were human and wearing normal dull clothes, but then he noticed their masks. A shiver went down his spine as he huddled behind the barrels. Each of the three men was wearing a plain wooden mask. They were smooth with little in the way of features except for a familiar looking mad grin. That couldn’t be a coincidence, these men had to be connected to the spirit from before. Were they looking for him at the spirit’s orders? Verus was in incredible danger if they were. How could something like this be happening in the middle of the imperial capital! It was supposed to be safe from spirits and cultists!

A sudden realization hit Verus like cold water. Why had he run this way? He should have gone directly to the guard! He’d just been too afraid to think straight. It was very likely he’d been manipulated into fleeing by some sort of fear aura. Now he was alone and helpless.

Grimacing, Verus tried to supress his spirit as much as possible, so that the men in masks couldn’t sense him.

The three masked men whispered among themselves for a few moments before turning to run toward another alley. Relief washed over Verus as he saw them move away from his hiding place, but it didn’t last. He flinched back in shock as a spear zoomed out of the alley behind the cultists. It flew straight at one of the masked men’s backs, but he jumped aside, so it slammed into a wall up ahead instead. The spear stuck there in the bricks, vibrating.

As the masked men spun around, three more figures detached themselves from the shadows. Two of them, a man and a woman, were wearing the leather garments and black face veils that some Telhri tribes wore. They were both also armed with spears and looked ready to use them.

The third figure was very different. It was hunched over and covered in a long tattered grey robe that completely concealed its body. Despite that, Verus could instantly tell it was the most dangerous of everyone present. His gut twisted from fear the moment he looked at it, even though he could only sense hints of its spirit.

“You cannot run. Give us what we want!” the cloaked figure hissed in a raspy voice that chilled Verus’s blood.

“You would betray the pact we made?” one of the masked men replied. He was standing between his companions and slightly taller than them so he was probably the leader.

From his hiding place behind the barrels, Verus blinked in surprise. Was it possible they weren’t here for him? What? How could this situation be a coincidence? Could he really simply be this unlucky?

The hunched over figure chuckled darkly. “The pact between our factions can continue exactly as before, but the Splinterseed will be ours! It was never part of the deal.”

“This is a holy item of our god, you shall not have it, vile demi-human.”

Verus’s heart fluttered from shock as he listened. Deep down, he’d been suspicious of the cloaked figure, but to hear his suspicions confirmed was still disturbing. There was a loose demi-human monster right in front of him!

“You cannot escape from me. You must now this,” the robed demi-human hissed. Verus stared at him with a combination of fascination and horror. What was under that robe? It sounded male.

The apparent leader of the masked men just laughed. “Who knows what will be when chaos reigns?”

The demi-human growled furiously as it raised a hand to point at the masked men. Its skin was a disturbing dark grey, and its fingers were inhumanly long and ended in jagged black nails. “Kill them and secure the seed.”

The two Telhri warriors charged forward with spears raised at the demi-human’s command. Clubs appeared in two of the cultists’ hands in response, while their leader drew a short sword. As the two groups clashed, they cycled their ki, letting Verus get a feel for their cultivation levels. Every one of them was at least at the Tempered Realm, but they were all still holding back, so it was difficult to tell. This was still a city controlled by the empire, and they wouldn’t dare draw too much attention to themselves.

The only one who had yet to reveal their power at all was the robed demi-human. As the others fought, it glided toward them at a leisurely pace, as if unconcerned.

One of the masked men blocked a spear thrust with his club and then blew a cloud of smoke straight in his opponent’s face. However, the spearman simply jumped back and dispersed the smoke with a twirl of his spear. However, the other two masked men had ganged up on the Telhri woman, and the masked swordsman used an afterimage to confuse her as she was distracted by his companion. He then dashed in and slashed her side. Gasping, she fell to the ground as blood spurted from the wound.

However, the demi-human reached the fight at that moment. As the two masked cultists who’d defeated the Telhri woman turned to face it, the demi-human raised his hands and made a circular motion. Globes of rippling water ki appeared and hung in the air before the creature, but it was nothing like any water ki Verus had ever sensed before. The ki was a blue so dark that it was almost black, and it felt incredibly deep and heavy. It almost seemed to embody some elements of darkness ki.

The cultists’ weapons hit the water, sunk into it, and then stopped. They were stuck in place. Another wave of the demi-human’s hands then pushed the weapons away, causing the masked men to stumble back as well. Their third companion hesitated and then jumped away from his own opponent to join them. Or at least he tried. As he moved, he stepped on an unseen patch of water ki that the demi-human had put on the ground without anyone noticing. His foot sank into the dark water, despite it being paper thin, and he stumbled. That allowed the spearman he’d been fighting to lunge forward and stab him in the gut.

The masked cultist gasped and fell to the ground. His allies yelled and jumped forward to help him, but the demi-human just laughed in a raspy voice and warded them off by summoning a twisting pillar of dark water that rose up out of a puddle on the ground.

This gave the remaining Telhri warrior time to remove his spear from the fallen man’s guts and give him a powerful kick to the ribs. The blow sent the man flying. When he landed, he rolled across the ground, coming to a stop only a few feet from Verus. The young disciple watched with wide eyes as a small wooden chest tumbled out of the cultist’s vest and hit the cobblestones. The chest popped open from the impact and a white pill rolled out. Verus stared at it. The pill radiated a potent energy that shifted through countless mesmerizing colors. It was obviously a cultivation aid of some sort, and it was within his reach.

Verus glanced towards where the cultists were fighting the demi-human and the Telhri warrior. Dark water surged through the air and splashed across the ground as the cultists defended themselves. They jumped around with agile steps and struck back with their weapons but couldn’t get near the demi-human. Everyone involved looked very distracted, and none of them were looking in Verus’s direction, but still he hesitated. Suddenly, the choices before him were stark and clear, and he needed to make a decision. He couldn’t put it off or feel sorry for himself anymore.

The pill represented power. If he ignored it and ran while the enemy was distracted, he would be choosing to accept his current fate. Even if he got a cultivation technique, he’d still nothing but another average outer disciple of the Great Wind Sect. His chances of becoming an elder were slim, and he’d have to live with the fact that Warin’s death had meant nothing and changed nothing.

Highcloud and the other indifferent nobles would continue to surpass him and look down on him from far above. They not only had talent, but also bloodlines and resources that he couldn’t match. He hated them, and he couldn’t deny it anymore. Rage burned within him every time he remembered the smug and indifferent looks on their faces during the final battle in the Reaches.

Grabbing the pill was most likely suicide though. It would probably attract the attention of the nearby criminals, and they’d tear him apart with ease. Thus, it was a terrible gamble. He’d need to risk everything for power. He’d need to throw everything away in his quest to seize his desires, including his beliefs. That was exactly what he’d just condemned his sect for doing…

All his life, Verus had been taught to be humble and selfless. Resisting temptation was his way of life. It had been beaten into him from a young age by the elders of the sect. They’d preached the words of the Archon, saying that his pure intentions mattered and would be rewarded. They’d cast themselves as the defenders of humanity and the weak. But, in truth, the empire and his sect respected nothing but strength. They were liars and hypocrites that had tried to use him as a tool. They’d let Warin die and hadn’t cared at all.

Well, Verus had always embraced discipline because it made him stronger. That was his own choice and who he was, but now it was time for him to face the truth. He been fooled into thinking that if he acted the way he was supposed to and was a good outer disciple, then he’d be rewarded by others and things would turn out alright. No, that had just let others abuse him as he wallowed in his own ignorance and complacency. If he wanted something, he had to seize it, and damn the consequences. Escora had shown him that in the Reaches, even if he’d been slow to learn. He had to become the strongest. Only then could he change the way things were and protect that which was most valuable to him. He was nothing without power. Without it, his beliefs and intentions were utterly without meaning.

The Warrior agreed. It whispered in the back of his mind. Only power would allow him to meld the world to his will, and only enlightenment would grant him the answers he sought. Why was the world this way? Why had Warin died? The Lightbringers couldn’t explain it. However, if he grew in power, he could reach enlightenment. Grow powerful enough, and he could demand answers from God himself.

Verus reached out to grab the pill.