The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

One of the Lower Marshal Exalts vanished in a bright light, reappearing in the distance, his bow nocked to the fullest as an immense Ein gathered in the twisted radiant arrow, a solar gleam glancing the arrowhead. In the smallest instant after release, it reached Marcus, showering everything it passed along its path in a blinding light, not a shrub or grass to be found in the pure radiance. A draconic roar erupted from Marcus. The curved horn protruding from the side of his forehead flared with an unruly Ein, like a flame out of control. He reached out his hand, now closely resembling a dragon's claw, and blocked the arrow, a metallic screech filling the air as sparks flew out.

The arrow wailed, still caught in Marcus's claw. He clenched down, the shattered remains of the arrow flickering out of existence before they could reach the ground. He roared again, the earth trembling uncontrollably. The others could not react in time, his movements too quick for them to catch. He soared across and, in a single swipe of his claw, trampled the bowsman to the dirt. Still, their experience wasn't too bad; the bowsman fired several more arrows of great sharpness, sticking out from Marcus's body like the spines of a porcupine. They shone brightly, and an explosion swallowed Marcus.

The other two Marshal Exalts leaped in the opening created by their ally. The earth erupted and bound Marcus's feet, turning into quicksand. Dark spears rained on him like icicles, the few that stuck starting to corrode, spreading a dark color on several places on his body. Before he could move, chains of light shot up from underneath and coiled around him, binding his movements. The suction of the quicksand, the corrosion on his legs, and the tugging of the chains forced him down as if they wanted him to kneel.

A powerful arrow, far more potent than the one Marcus blocked earlier, tore up the ground, aiming to split him in half from below. One raised his broadsword, long and wide, darkness coursing in its edge and spewing out as black mist. The other swung his mace, the world pulling toward it as rocks and stone bashed their forms into it and joined in its mass. Marcus's knee nearly touched the ground, and his half-draconic form twisted more, the second horn protruding from his forehead, his face now fully scaly and bearing a mouthful of fangs. The sheer weight of his Ein pushed back the arrow, and it imploded, tossing the land upside down.

Freed from his chains and the quicksand, Marcus dove straight for the exposed archer, snarling. His claw, twice the size it was before, drove into the chest and pierced the heart, his scales acting as sharp blades that expanded out and shredded the body into a bloody rain. He wasn't done. He kicked off the air and caught the darkness Exalt, who hid in the shadows, the corrosion no longer affecting his hardened scales. Viciously, he dismembered the man, splitting him in half by tearing the mouth apart.

The last Exalt screamed, retreating quickly, leaving his mace, a precious grade-four armament, behind. Demon unsheathed his white sword and cut him apart in the moment of weakness, flames bursting from the clean cuts and leaving nothing except the head. He put the blade away and walked closer to the rampaging Marcus. "For how much longer will you lose yourself?"

Marcus roared and charged, a monster replacing the loyal human. A draconic wing sprouted from his back. If his transformation reached completion, then it would be too troublesome to retrieve him from that state. A claw swiped, driving itself into Demon's side, but he blocked with his arm wrapped in Pseudoguise. What a heavy blow. Few could block that attack without remaining unscathed. After a swift kick to Marcus's chest, he punched down on his forehead, toppling him over. Erden leaped out and assumed his true form, exhibiting the full pressure of a Mythical Beast.

Marcus growled and snarled, but Demon held him down, clenching his hand tightly on the scaly neck. Erden roared and overpowered the beastly blood flowing in Marcus. When the blood withdrew, the blood haze lifting from Marcus's eyes, Ignyres swept up the black dagger, reforming a Thread between it and Marcus before sheathing it. The fangs retracted into human teeth, the horns hid back in the forehead as the skin healed, and the scales squirmed and returned underneath the skin. Marcus groaned, clarity filling the wild pupils.

"My Lord?" Marcus coughed out blood.

"Get up. Get up." Demon lifted Marcus to his feet. He collected the corpses and space pockets, always welcoming an influx of wealth. "We camp elsewhere tonight. Tomorrow, we return to the city."

"Yes, my Lord." Marcus bowed and glanced over his body in shame, his white suit in tatters. He put on a fresh new suit and set up a camp a hundred miles away from the remains of the battle. Nearby the campfire, he bowed deeply to Demon. "Forgive me for losing control. I almost ruined your plans."

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"Controlling the beast in you is not an easy feat. But it is disappointing that you haven't learned the slightest bit of control." Demon didn't care for Marcus's apologies, wanting only the results. So far, the results were not what he wanted. "Learn control. I will not be there to stop you every time."

Perhaps it was the effects of the battles between Marshal Exalts, but not a single chatter filled the night. No crickets came out to sing their songs, the winds withdrew from the city and its surroundings, and the animals huddled together, not daring to sound a peep. It was a silent night, fit for the ending of a battle, meaning no one came looking for more trouble. Marcus meditated, sweat-faced before the fires. At least he worked hard. Deeper into the night, Demon leaned against the tree, resting his arms on the protruding roots. He tried waking Oscar once again, and, once again, Oscar never moved.

In the morning, Demon strode down the streets in different clothing, the people not avoiding him this time. He slipped past the clamoring crowds that went on their day as usual. After a few minutes, he reached the Cassidy Auction and barged in, kicking down the door and expelling his Ein to knock out the guards and attendants, reaching Charlotte's office. Changing his garb into his armored figure instantly, he cut down the entrance, facing the shocked Charlotte, her eyes widening in realization as her hands raised in pleading.

He cut off her left hand since she was right-handed and burned the fallen hand into ashes. Blood splattered out and covered various documents now signed in her blood. Charlotte groaned, her expression contorting in pain, and stopped the bleeding on his arm. Demon brought a chair over and sat, tapping his fingers on the armrest. He wanted to see what she would say to escape this predicament.

"I failed. You've outsmarted me." Charlotte winced a half-smile, still holding the wound on her arm. "Was that a fake I saw?"

"A fake. You were too greedy; such is the nature of your kind." Demon drove his sword into the floor, letting it stick out threateningly. "You wanted me to kill the two of them or at least injure one severely for you and your other backer to finish off the job." He swung his sword again, stopping right before the neck of another, someone who had remained hidden the entire time, an old man with white, aged hair and black eyes. "This old one was watching the battle, weren't you? Was it your job to step in and ambush one of them while framing me as your ally if I accepted their deal?"

"Mercy. Please." The old man gave in. The white sword scalded on his neck, but he showed no signs of moving.

"That depends on the condition and the deal. You must have paid the Reed Cartel well to have them try to kill me. What was your offer?" Demon asked, his voice growing colder, and the two shivered.

"It was what they told you. I expected them to either attack you or try to bring you in. I placed contingencies for both. In the end, I lost. Your fake was quite convincing, and the spoils they got from your space pocket cast out any doubts." Charlotte bit her lip and bowed, slamming her head on the table. The old man wanted to say something, but Demon pushed his sword deeper, burning the flowing blood. Charlotte cried and pleaded, "Please! I signed a contract with them. If you can defeat them and tear up that contract, I will do anything!"

"Anything? Whenever people say anything, they don't mean it. If I asked for your entire business, you wouldn't agree. I don't care for your 'anything'. Bring me your terms. Let me see what the Cassidy leader can offer in her desperation." Indeed, that was the entire reason he rejected the Reed Cartel's deal. Rather than agree on assumed equal footing, he preferred to get the upper hand by forcing their desperation. A deal on the threat of death was also undesirable, a loose exchange that would only bring more trouble. But a deal based on relying on him and only him, out of despair, was the best.

Charlotte stood up and kneeled before Demon. "I offer you all of the Reed Cartel's wealth, ten percent from the revenue of all auctions, a 95:5 split on your items, and ten percent profits from the trading routes we'll obtain from the Reed Cartel."

"What makes you believe I can overturn the entire Reed Cartel? I am a Lower Marshal Exalt like them."

"I have built a good eye for appraising not just goods but also people after many years. The Reed Cartel is an upstart compared to my family's long history. When I saw you, I felt not even four Lower Marshal Exalts of this continent could stand up to you. I wouldn't know about the monsters from other continents, but I know the ones in this land." Charlotte laughed bitterly. "I thought my eyes were failing me in my old age after seeing your fake die. But now I know they're still in their prime."

"It is a good offer. Fine. I accept. Draw up a contract." At his command, Charlotte wrote up a contract and already signed in ink, blood, and Ein, the three defining factors for a contract between Exalts. Demon read the contract, wary of any traps, but surprisingly, all the factors were favorable to him. He signed it and departed with a few words, "The Reed Cartel will be no more."

"Thank you. What do I call you, my Lord?" Charlotte asked.

"My name is Draven." Demon left without looking back.

Outside the Cassidy Auction and in one of the empty houses in the slums, Demon met with Marcus, who had been instructing the gangs. "Let's go."

"Back home, my Lord?" Marcus asked.

"No. There's some good business to handle here." Demon had Marcus hide under a hood and led him to the Reed Cartel, which owned an entire district. Slicing the gate and guards apart, he walked calmly, flames spreading from each step. "Where's your leader?"

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