The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 615: Battle Against Togros

Drums thundered in the vastness of the blue sky, giving the illusion that a storm approached, their beats and thumps happening in two quick succession followed by a loud, emphatic strike. Then silence arrived for a second before the drums resumed, two then one, two then one. This rhythmic beating could only be paired with the faint rumbling from the airships as they drew near, all merging into the sound of war. The only sound missing was the warcries and wretched shouts of the unfortunate fighters. Unmoved, Demon simply watched, his feet hanging over the precipice.

Erden transformed and bounced his small form around to hide in Demon's cloak. He would come out as a trump card, a last resort if needed. The sword cried out in a piercing song, a ringing tone, as Demon unsheathed it, sharp and clear that grated on the ears. Resting the white sword on his lap, he tossed the sheath into his space pocket, for it was not required today. His lone figure seemed to attract their attention since some Exalts flying by airships shouted and pointed at him. Rising to his feet, he rested the sword down and scrutinized them.

Large blue banners of fine tapestry draped down the sides and front of the airships, shimmering a deep color as the winds swayed them to the sunlight. On them was embroidered the figure of a scarlet tiger with six legs and two tails, a fine beast, not one of the firstborns, the Mythical Beasts, but one close to them, a second-generation beast, the Tigrena. Slight fluctuations of Ein rippled across and reached him, and he knew there were quite a few Marshal Exalts, including a Greater Marshal Exalt.

"My Lord!" Marcus arrived, leading the others. His blonde hair had already been tied back, and he directed a fierce gaze at the incoming airships. Santen closed his eyes, seemingly in prayer, as he mumbled to himself. Auren, despite having grown up, still couldn't contain his shoulders from bouncing up and down, quivering in delight. Kragg and Astrid exchanged a look, provocation pouring from their hardened gazes. Eve and Restel stayed at the back, quiet and restrained.

He didn't say anything. There were no words to say to them at this point. They knew the plan and had prepared for it. The only thing left was to win in an overwhelming victory. Cheers erupted from the airships, their feet pounding to the beating of the drums as if they were marching themselves. The rising shouts reached their peak until a single clap drowned out all others, bringing all down to a sudden silence. Waves continued to crash onto the rocks, the ocean refusing to be silenced, only ramped up by the winds kicked up by the airships.

Someone stood at the tip of the airship, meeting Demon's cold glare. A single glance exchanged revealed the man to be the Greater Marshal Exalt Demon sensed earlier. He wore a cuirass that had been molded into the shape of his chest and muscles, the intricate details placed in to replicate the linings of his muscular frame. A fur cloak, a tiger's pelt, covered his bare shoulders and draped down to his feet, past the leather kilt and reaching the brown sandals. His face looked more primal, closer to Kragg's beastly features, a broad chin with a toothy smile. But he was old, quite old. Wrinkles had covered his face. His gray hair marked the passing of years.

"I am Areus Togros, Lord of the Togros Clan!" His shout shook the island, and waves rushed away from him, grasping against the currents. Following that, a red Tigrena roared, hitting its two tails on the ship's deck. Their intentions to brandish their might were obvious, but Demon remained unimpressed. Their power might as well be dust to Saul. Areus pointed a long golden spear at him and shouted, "Soon! Our family will welcome a new member. My great-grandson will soon be wed. But her cries for her home's plight darken the festivities. I have come to enact justice for her and retake the honor of the Togros Clan!"

Their cheers burst out again, their weapons raised high as if to pierce the heavens, and their stomping swept across the land in perfect unison. Areus raised his fist, their shouting diminishing to nothing, and he glanced over to the others on Demon's side, a wide grin lifting his craggy cheeks. "However, I am impressed. All of you are quite strong, and killing you would be a waste. How about this?" He clasped his hands together. "Come under me. I will grant you riches beyond what this paltry continent can offer. But you will serve me. Be my arms and legs."

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"Rejected." Demon stated clearly, not even a split second later. "You're not enough. Become a King Exalt first. Then I will hear you out. Otherwise, we're not interested."

Areus bellowed in laughter. "I'm getting quite old if others don't know of me. Listen, greenhorn, there are not many who would dare to speak to me in such a way. I am willing to let your disrespect slide if you join me. But force my hand, and I will carve out your heart." A berserk swirl of Ein felt like fangs piercing into his skin. The Tigrena snarled, combining its Ein to its master's, another Greater Marshal Exalt.

A rush of air squeezed out of his lungs, drawn out by the immense pressure on his body. His muscles trembled, constrained by the pressure. Straining to lift his sword, Demon felt like he was sent to the bottom of the ocean, the fathomless depths threatening to squash him into a pulp. Yet, his iron body, forged by Reis and hardened by battle, resisted, his knees still straight, unwilling to bow. A part of Areus's brow lifted in shock, and he grinned, increasing the pressure.

"Bah! Where do you get off spouting nonsense? Get off your high horse, you dunce!" Hector blinked into the middle of the wild Ein and swung his hammer, bashing the pressure away, relieving Demon. Crunching on the bone of a roasted rib, the beady-eyed fabricator spat it out at the Tigrena. "Chew on that for now, you overgrown cat."

"A Greater Marshal Exalt?" Areus narrowed his gaze. "I didn't expect this. Are you the true leader of this group?"

"Wrong. I'm just a hired hand. As if I want to lead these brats. Areus, let's not be hasty. Why don't we step back and settle this another way?" Hector rubbed his scruffy beard, smirking smugly.

"And what's to stop me from sending my airships to bombard them?" Areus grinned, matching Hector's attitude. These two Greater Marshal Exalts seemed to be kindred spirits in their demeanor.

Demon snapped his fingers, and Auren slapped his palm on the ground. A circle shone around the precipice and a part of the junkyard, nodes shining like the stars as a wall of Ein rose and converged in the center above. Firmly secured in the barrier, Demon pointed his sword at Areus, intent on provoking him. The formation took a large amount of resources and money, but it was worth it for this moment. A formation's strength was not in offense but in defense and auxiliary purposes, and Auren, being the formation genius, crafted the best ones. They would take time to break through this since they came wholly unprepared for a siege.

"A formation? Quite impressive. I'm beginning to like your group even more. Very well!" Areus thumped his spear on the ship. "What's your game, mister?"

"Hector. And it's simple. We will send out five people, and you will send out your own five to match them. It will be the truest of matches, a one-on-one." Hector rested his hammer on his shoulder and puffed his chest out proudly. "If we lose even a single match, then we will leave this continent. If we win, then you get lost. How about it? I'm sure the great Togros Clan will not miss a chance to showcase their prowess."

"Interesting! Right! A true warrior should settle this by their fists." Areus laughed.

'So simpleminded.' Demon shrugged. It didn't come as a surprise they accepted the proposal. He, Hector, and Helen decided this method was the best after receiving information on the Togros Clan from Charlotte. 'At least it works out. We would have had to be tricker if it were any other.' He stepped out with Marcus, Kragg, Astrid, and Santen, and Areus selected five Middle Marshal Exalts from his clan. The continent they hailed from was quite rich and had its own Divine Essence. Little wonder they had such a force for a single family.

"As Togros, we will send out our combatants from weakest to strongest. Bellina! Go!" A woman leaped out into the gap between the ships and the island at his call. She wore a tiger cloak and a similar cuirass to Areus's, except a black undershirt extended to her wrists, and a pair of thin silvery pauldrons rested on her shoulders. Her muscular frame fit well with her armor, a warrioress like Emily. With her orange hair tied back, her heroic look inspired the others to chant her name. She strode to the center, planted her spear by her side, and crossed her arms to wait for her opponent.

"I'll go," Astrid said.

"Admitting you're the weakest?" Kragg said, followed by his mocking laughter.

"No. From the start, that woman gave me a nasty look. I only want to pay her back. But by all means, go ahead since it's your spot." Astrid gestured, but Kragg refused to move, and she flew out to meet Bellina, ice already gathering under her feet like platforms to walk on.

A single loss was all they required to ruin his plan, but Demon believed it was impossible now. Pointing at Bellina, Demon ordered, "Break her."

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