The Exalt [Cultivation Fantasy]

Demon opened his eyes, narrowing them at the unfamiliar scenery. Tall white trees rose from the fields of flame-like flowers in bloom, leaves of red, gold, yellow, and orange swaying gently to the breeze. His nails scratched and scarped on oddly hard knobs, and he noticed he was sitting in a wheelchair built from the same white material as the trees. As it turned out, he somehow made it inside an empty house with no furniture or even a decoration on the walls. He didn't get off and decided to remain in the chair.

When he moved the wheels, they creaked and squeaked as if no grease eased the strained gears, and a series of stomps rapidly approached. The door slammed open, revealing a familiar figure, indigo hair tied back with braids and bangs covering her forehead and golden eyes that first glimmered in what appeared to be hope but dimmed in disappointment. It was Avril.

She sighed, "Oh, it's Demon. She tries to hide her disappointment and fails, sighing heavily."

"Disappointed? I am, as well. I thought Oscar might finally wake up after meeting you, but he's not changed at all." Demon rose from his wheelchair and closed his eyes, Erden's memories flooding his head through their connection. Every image and every word spoken replayed, and he relived them. It went far better than he could have envisioned. He stretched his back, loud cracks in rapid succession, and stretched the rest of his body, dull after the battle. "Good decision on sending them away. Auren's return and words may sway the rest to remain loyal, and Remulus will lead the new academy well."

'I'll have to keep quiet for a while.' He'd have to be careful. His actions had garnered too much attention, Trigem Primaeres breathing down his neck. The house met his criteria, being a place hidden where no humans could venture easily and protected by a Primaere loyal to Ignyres. He sat back in the wheelchair, a fit of shoddy craftsmanship blaring in the wheels squeaking.

Tapping his finger on the knob at the end of the armrest, Demon looked out the window in deep pondering. There was no glass in the window, and he could feel the breeze on his skin; however, he didn't know whether it was hot or cold, the long sleep numbing his senses. His gaze focused on the Beak of Ra, the burning mountain. Two variables piqued his interest: Maia's presence and Oscar's madness. The enemy woman had somehow befriended Avril and nearly died for them, meaning as long as he held Avril close, Maia's powers would be his to use. Assuming if she succeeded in her rebirth.

'Oscar's state is far more delicate than I assumed. To go in a frenzy like that….what if he takes over while I'm fighting if I see something that sets him off.' Clicking his tongue, Demon crossed his arms and shut his gaze, seeking answers in the dark. Something struck his head with a low thud, and a pained groan came from Avril. She clutched her hand and hissed in pain, her hand fragile as glass compared to his Reis-trained head.

"Can you return? Let Oscar out to heal." Avril faced him down, clearly irritated. "Stop keeping him in the darkness and let him see me. Don't worry! She's certain she will help him and reaches out a pinky to promise."

Her pinky finger stuck out between them, her smile filled with confidence. Was it a fool's hope? Or did she know what to do? Whatever it was, Demon had already determined to leave it to her. He flicked away her gesture and retreated into the inner world, passing by Ignyres, who said nothing. His steps rang clear and loud in the inner world, and the core hummed a low note. He kicked Oscar once, no reaction. Crouching down, he jabbed a finger into Oscar's chest and said, "The rest is on you. Like I said, there's no point in surviving if it's not you."

"LET ME GO!" Kragg roared, the ground caving in from his leap.

Marcus caught up and struck Kragg, slamming his scaled shoulder into the rampant lion's chest, the lungs squeezing out the last bits of air and choking the roars into gasps. His feet stabilized him like roots and held him to the ground. Kragg dropped backward, crashing to the ground. Cracks spread in spiderweb-like patterns as his body was flung back a hundred feet. Marcus gripped his shoulder and tore off a few broken scales, tired after several rounds.

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"Calm down, Fourth. We can't leave right now. Wait for Eve and Astrid to recover." Marcus spat a bit of blood. In the moment of contact, Kragg had shoved a fist into his kidney, his side lurching in pain. The fact he didn't use the claws meant he still had some sense to him. Believing in that, he attempted to calm Kragg, but the lion's rage continued to devour him. "Right now, we have to stick together or else be picked off one by one."

"Screw that! They have Auren! And Lordy isn't here to lead us." Kragg crouched, not in respect. This stance sought to pounce and kill, and Marcus gnashed his teeth, his words useless. The reddish brute growled, "I followed the Lordy's orders to regard you as the second-in-command, but he's not here. How about it?" Fangs protruded from his mouth, and claws carved into the dirt. "I challenge you to be the leader of the pride. If you lose, we go after Auren on my orders."

"K-Kragg–" Restel stammered from the side, but a single glare forced her silence, and she squeaked out an apology.

"Is that your decision, Kragg?" Marcus tied his blond hair and tore off his white suit. He shouldn't be fighting his ally after all the recent events. They needed to stick together and think of a good plan. But his heart raced as a wide smile cut through his face, his hunger for battle reaching its peak. Kragg's lion had insulted the dragon within him, and the dragon roared in retaliation, silencing the rationale clinging to his mind. In a voice not his own, amplified and deepened by the dragon's blood into a booming echo, he said, "Then, come little cub, I will tear off your fangs."

If reason fell on deaf ears, then he would use power. Instinct took over, and Marcus charged, raising a clenched fist and swinging wide, a foolish move with many openings. But Kragg also swung wide, retracting his claws into a fist. Kragg's fist struck his face, a crack resounding from his nose, certainly broken. His scaled fist did the same, and they carried on in a brutal exchange, matching punch for punch as rubble flew up and down from the force of their strength, blood splattering on their bodies.

"You bastard." Marcus let out a dragon's roar and sent his fist crashing against the air. Suddenly, a hand caught his fist, squeezing tightly on his knuckles. Marcus came to his senses and saw Santen had intervened, the long, lanky arms stretched fully and halting their charge. Santen's long and thin face turned to Marcus, the fish-like wide eyes quelling the blood frenzy from his own.

"Yes. Yes. Both of you are passionate and care for Auren. I can see that well. But fighting amongst ourselves will not help Auren, Eve, and Astrid." Santen let go and clapped his hands. "I have no idea why, but I am calm. I believe it will be well."

"Calm? Of course, you're calm!" Kragg growled, his claws protruding like blades drawn from a sheath. "You're practically a dead man walking!"

"Kragg!" Marcus scolded, mostly cursing at himself for failing as a leader. He had been entrusted to lead in the Lord's absence but went and lost himself to the dragon. What a failure he was, despite having accompanied the calm Lord the longest. One look at Restel, who cowered in fear from his gaze, sank his heart, and he spread his bloodied hands. He had spilled the blood of his friend. Why was he so inadequate? He couldn't compare to his Lord.

Something dove from above, clouds of dirt and dust rising from its descent. Everyone stopped and stared at the figure in the cloud, and when it settled, it pointed a spear at them, lightning crackling brightly along its shaft and spearhead. Half of its metallic head was caved in, several dents decorated the thick armor, and one of its arms dangled, attached by a string of bendy metal. One blue orb shone in the good half of its head, glowing in the visor. It spoke in a static, "Protect Eve and Astrid. Protect Eve and Astrid. Large Eins must be silenced."

"See? Calm down. Your battle must have affected them if this golem set out to stop you." Santen dragged out his words in a slow voice.

"Fine." Marcus lowered his hands and nodded, looking gratefully at the golem. Auren had ordered it to protect Eve and Astrid while he was taken away, a smart move by that kid. He felt a hint of pride for the squeamish kid, remembering how he practically raised him. But Auren was gone, and Eve and Astrid were unconscious. Flashes of memories of a cold lab raced across his mind. He should have died then, but the Lord gave him a second chance, and he squandered it.

"Damnit, Auren…." He pounded the ground with his fist, unable to quell the rage flaring in his chest.

"I'm back!" A shout resounded from above. It couldn't be him. Marcus thought he was hearing things. Then, another shout called out, "Were you all fighting?!" Marcus turned up, eyes wide at the brown-haired, brown-eyed immature brat cheering from above with a cocky smile. He blinked several times, and Auren was there each time. How was he here?

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