Jason’s mind quieted down, leaving him to grapple with his guilt in the ensuing silence. Any uncertainties over what he'd just done were gone within a few moments, his eyes fixed firmly on the location where Brud was still waiting for him to return. He trusted Actius to an extent, but he wasn't some pawn to be used in the game that these ancient cultivators had been playing for countless years. Even if he hadn't seen him for a long while, even if he hadn't known him for more than a few months, Nolan was the best friend that he'd ever had. Nobody else had ever gone out of their way to look out for him, not when life-and-death were at stake. But Nolan? Time and again the other boy hadn't hesitated to look out for him even in the most harrowing of situations. Because of that, there was no way in hell that Jason would risk exposing his friend to Actius's unknown machinations. For that, he was willing to go against the talented spirit, even if he risked his own autonomy in doing so.

I should get going.

While he couldn't fly in the way that those at the Genesis stage were capable of doing, or nearly as fast for that matter, he had the method that Actius had used in his youth. This ingenuity had impressed Halvin, his master, to a great degree, since Actius had only been nine-years-old when he'd come up with the unusual method. It was extremely difficult to control expelled energy when using it to manipulate the space around oneself, especially when travelling long distances. Only once one had reached the Genesis stage did such a task become manageable. Luckily, it was but an afterthought for Jason.

Arriving above Brud, he cast another mass of energy into the shrubs below and pulled the other boy up into the sky with a startled scream.

"Y—you broke through, then? But how are you flying?"

Jason ignored him, not intent on answering stupid questions. Without speaking a word to the other boy—who was thinner than he'd been when they had met—he ferried Brud alongside him as they headed southwest at about fifty kilometres per hour.

"Where are we going?" When the other boy received no answer, he snarled, "What point is there in keeping me around if you ignore everything I say?"

"You throw barrels pretty well." Giving the question some thought, he added, "And you make a pretty good decoy. You also know a lot about the Bloodhand Sect. So yeah, I'll be keeping you around for a while."

Brud wore a complicated expression that was rarely seen on disciples of his former affiliation, as if he were facing a moral dilemma. "Must we go back to Hauss? We can always head north to the mountain states. Now that you've broken through, you're clearly strong enough to establish your own domain. Why not live as kings"—his eager gaze wilted as Jason looked over at him with a neutral stare—"and…well, you can live as a king, and perhaps I could be one of your subordinates?"

"You already are."

Thanks to the cloaks of energy, they didn't feel any wind resistance. About ten minutes into their travels, Jason sensed forty life signals in the distance, all of them with significant auras. One of these was much stronger than the others, and it was fluctuating in contest with the majority. Slowing down, Jason pointed in the direction that the fluctuations were originating from.

"Someone's fighting over there."

As if to punctuate his words, a raucous roar echoed throughout the forest and caused a stir in the local wildlife, though on a far lesser scale than Jason's breakthrough had instigated.

"Ah," the boy said in a light tone, "then it's best that we avoid the area."

Jason gave him a dry look and then altered their course, approaching the battle without hesitation.

Brud’s eyes were bitter as he slouched in the air, resigning himself to the situation. He had been by Jason's side for a while now, and clearly knew that no disciples could escape the fate of refinement at their hands, not even those from the Core of the sect. His expression dimmed as he finally sensed the battle that was becoming more prominent in its percussions as they drew nearer to the conflict. All of those fighting were at the Integration stage, and at the first level of the same realm, Brud had no way of sensing the creature that they were fighting.

Jason flew higher as they closed in on the fight, until he was directly overhead. As he’d anticipated, the combatants were all disciples of the Bloodhand Sect. Sersa didn't mention anything about another group. Had they decided to leave their camp without reporting it to her? Or perhaps his unlikely accomplice had finally decided to double-cross him. Either way, he would still pay her a visit. That was, if she was even planning to show up at their designated meeting place.

As Jason was now, he could come and go in Hauss without any worries so long as the great elder in charge of the Haussian invasion wasn't present. According to Sersa, he had gone off to the Thebes Empire in the west to conduct some secret mission, from which he had yet to return.

Staring down at the large, dark-furred animal that was killing disciples left and right, Jason mused, "Peak of Integration? That wolf must have demonized a long time ago."

"Perhaps we should leave it be? It'll be a good distraction."

Jason could understand the boy's unwillingness to participate in such an intense fight that they had nothing to do with, as most demonic beasts were stronger than humans at the same level of cultivation. Just as an ordinary wolf was faster and deadlier than an ordinary human, the same difference existed in this world's food chain.

"And let it kill all of those disciples? I'd rather refine them." All of the youths below wore the black robes trimmed with red fabric that were characteristic of those in the sect's inner court. That their cultivations were high enough to belong to the Core of the sect meant that their current strengths were a result of their invasion of Hauss—the 'Acquisition,' as they called it.

Everybody below had noticed their sudden arrival, including the beast, who sent them the occasional glance of wariness with its glowing red eyes.

Circulating his inner essence in what had come to be a very familiar fashion, Jason conjured a mass of dark, devious energy which quickly formed into a glowing spear that gave off a menacing aura. The Life-Severing Spear was his preferred martial skill, though he had picked up several skill manuals from fallen disciples in recent weeks and had made it a point to learn the Scarlet Serrated Hand technique—the staple skill of the sect's outer court—along with the Scarlet Serpent Strike and its advanced version, the Scarlet Serpent Summoning Technique. He had also looted a manual for the Crippling Blood Palm, the ability to conjure massive, ethereal hands of blood-red energy, which he intended to learn in the coming weeks. Thinking of the one who’d taught him his secondary cultivation method, it came as no surprise that these techniques complimented his internal energies as if they were made specifically for him, and he alone.

"A—Angelica?" Brud stammered as he looked down at the ravaged forest, where trees were toppling by the second. "Jason, please hold off!"

Ignoring Brud, he hurled the spear down at the horse-sized wolf, raising an eyebrow as it sensed his attack and dashed away from the oncoming projectile in a blur of blackness. As if shelled by mortar fire, the earth where the wolf had just been standing suddenly exploded upwards with a large plume of dust and scattered detritus, which brought on a great shockwave that knocked down many of the disciples in the area. The three girls that had been attempting to assault the wolf were killed in its place.

Ignoring the deaths of their comrades, the disciples looked up at Jason with relief, one of them calling up to him.

"Senior brother, please assist us in capturing that demonized netherwolf!" A voluptuous girl with a brown-haired bob cut jumped atop the highest tree in the area that hadn't been smashed to bits by the vicious fighting, cupping her hands in respect as she addressed him. "Of course, the spoils will go to you." When Jason didn't respond, she looked beside him only to have her dark eyes light up in surprise. "Brud? How can you be here right now?"

Jason was busy thinking about the appearance of the wolf that had just run off. So that’s a netherwolf? Thinking back to the Netherwolf Tribe that had given him and his friends so much trouble all that time ago, he counted himself lucky that they had never run into such a powerful version of the animal that the tribe seemed to have worshipped.

Brud, meanwhile, was sending awkward, meek glances at Jason, as if asking for permission to speak. Rolling his eyes, Jason nodded as he sensed the wolf's aura disappear into the distance. For the first time, there was worry in the other boy's eyes. After hesitating for a moment, Brud’s gaze hardened in a look of somebody that had steeled themselves for the worst of fates.

"Flee this place, Angelica! Hurry!" Pointing at an apathetic Jason, he yelled, "this is the rogue cultivator that's been killing everybody as of late! Please, you're not his match!"

"Stop talking," Jason ordered, forcing energy into his voice so that it registered as a command. A black circle appeared around Brud's neck, but the boy ignored the evident discomfort that accompanied it and tried to yell out another warning. Before he could form a single syllable, however, the master-slave contract caused the seal around his neck to constrict, quickly steering him towards asphyxiation.

Understanding dawned on the faces of the disciples below as the horror of Brud's words registered in their minds.

When did this little weasel become so brave? He left Brud floating there, unable to breathe as he watched Jason prepare to massacre the people below.

Without warning, a massive snake appeared beneath Jason's feet, so tangible that it was indistinguishable from the real thing. Two more appeared around him, the limit to the amount of serpents that he could conjure, these ones about fifteen metres long and one wide, about half the size of that which he stood upon. He quickly activated another martial skill and created two small blades of red energy, one on each hand, and willed his artificial mount to dive downwards with a menacing, open maw.

Strong as they were, the company of disciples didn't stand a chance.