Defiance of the Fall

“You’re still alive? Let me see.”

The Thousandflame Eccentric sat at the same spot as before, locked in the same position, holding the same leaf. It was as though a month hadn’t passed since she hurled him into that pit of despair to reforge his core. Kruta stuffed down the choice words that were always bubbling just beneath the surface.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised every time,” Kruta sighed as he rotated his cultivation base.

Steel and flames coursed through his body, fueled by his Middle D-grade Cosmic Core. An illusory flame appeared on his head, spreading down his torso and into his hands. Kruta felt his muscles straining with barely repressed destruction, and the burning spirit of his ancestor appearing behind him exuded a matching ferocity.

Kruta had to admit that while staying by his Master’s side meant constant suffering, the gains were more than a match. The path she’d illuminated, or rather kicked open, held boundless potential while perfectly matching his heart. Even the benefits brought from the seal of the Indomitable Court paled before the rebirth she’d guided him through.

“Little Candle, when did you become so confident?” the mad Supremacy grinned as she stuffed the leaf into her mouth.

“Please, just call me—”

The universe shook, and Kruta saw his life flash by when a tendril of living flames flashed past him, entering the mountain range he’d spent the last few months in. Space collapsed, the Dao unraveled, and the Cosmos cried as a piece of its fabric was forever lost to the monstrous conflagration. Kruta groaned and fell to his knees, his memory repainted with fire and fate’s culmination.

That wasn’t a controlled demolition of his training ground. A sliver of energy had escaped through his Master’s teeth while chewing her treat. Thank the ancestors she hadn’t felt peckish while he was undergoing his breakthrough. His ancestral spirit collapsed, retreating into the depths of his Soul Aperture. If it were possible, his ancestor would have dug a pit and hid inside.

Who’d ever heard of a soul burning with the flames of war being afraid of fire?

“Ah? What’s that?”

“Little Candle,” Kruta said with resignation. “Please call me Little Candle.”

He hated the nickname he was given after his [Thousandwar Flame] was awakened. At that time, he’d only been able to release the flames on the top of his head. His dear Master had laughed for ten straight minutes. Meanwhile, he’d been halfway through death’s door, greeted by ancestors adorning pitying smiles. Then he was dragged back, denied the final escape from his nightmare.

“So weird,” Thousandflames scoffed, oblivious to the destruction she’d caused. Her face had gained a mesmerizing blush as she swallowed the terrifying treasure. “That’s the stuff.”

“So, about the small vacation master promised… No, I mean seclusion to incorporate Master’s teachings.”

“Ah? A break?” Thousandflames said, her eyes going apart while scratching her ear. “That doesn’t sound like me. And why would you need a break? The fact that you’re acting so confident can only mean my efforts have borne fruit. We should look into intensifying your training. You’re not pushing yourself hard enough if you can’t feel the shadow of death creeping closer.”

As expected, avoiding disaster was all but an impossibility with his Master. There was no point in complaining or railing against her broken promises. She wouldn’t mind the outburst—in fact, she’d welcome it. However, her rewards for ‘showing mettle’ still haunted his dreams. He couldn’t believe he longed for his grandma’s punishments. What was hog duty to being flung into the horrifying realms this scourge had collected throughout the Eternal Storm?

“Actually, training will have to wait,” the beautiful orc said with regret, igniting a small flame of hope against Kruta’s better judgment. “We’re picking up little Iz. I can’t have you looking like a toasted rump; it will reflect poorly on me.”

“Ah?” Kruta said, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. “I passed?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Only the ancestors know whether your fate is strong enough to glom onto the family,” Thousandflames scoffed. “However, something’s changed, and we have to hurry up.”

“Is it the trial?”

“Your little friend is messing with fate,” Thousandflames grunted, a hint of displeasure appearing on the eccentric’s face. “He stole half a year from the little miss, and fate’s still in flux from his meddling. He’s lucky his little region is protected by the Ruthless Heavens.”

Kruta’s face paled, knowing all too well the fate of those who displeased this maniac. The penal colony he woke up in only represented a corner of the gallery of suffering in this planet-sized Cosmic Vessel.

“I’m sure he had his reasons! I even bet it was on accident. Zac’s just as dumb as me. What does he know about messing with fate?”

“Whatever the reason, we need to leave ahead of schedule. We can’t stay on the sidelines, or fate might slip through our fingers. I’m sure the others feel the same way.”

“Others?”

“Some joined the party early. Others have their own ideas, hoping to use side doors to grab onto fate’s tail,” the orc shrugged as she got to her feet. She stretched, creating a mesmerizing ripple of chiseled muscles. “How do I look?”

“Perfection,” Kruta whispered, his breath swept away.

“This old lady’s still got it,” Thousandflames laughed. “If you only knew how many chieftains were running after my skirts back in the day. Maybe I should visit a few of them when this is all over.”

“The Red Sun Council was rooted out during the war,” Kruta sighed, a flare of grief and indignation flickering in his chest.

“Why look like that?” Thousandflames said with a roll of her eyes as their surroundings exploded. “It’s not like you knew those irascible old goats. They would probably have killed each other if the Second Heaven hadn’t gotten to them first.”

“It’s just… The tribes were scattered, and now we’re essentially subordinates to the Imperial Heavens.” Kruta said with sorrow. “We only grow more dependent while our oppressor grows stronger.”

His Master didn’t say anything for a few moments as they passed through a tunnel of spatial flames, but Kruta noticed a dangerous flicker in her eyes. “Fate’s a tricky thing. Accumulate too much, and you’ll be crushed under its weight. The Imperials have pigged out on the providence of others for a very long time. Eventually, balance will be restored.”

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“You—” Kruta said with hope but groaned when a painful flick to his forehead shook his soul.

“Don’t look at me. Even Master would have to think twice before setting the Heavens ablaze. Besides, the Imperial Clans did help us out during our rough patch. It would reflect poorly on the Empyrean Quadrant if I caused trouble.”

“More like took advantage of your conflict to expand their borders,” Kruta muttered.

“So? Enemy of an enemy, and all that. If you don’t like it, do something about it,” Thousandflames scoffed as the flames deposited them in a garden. “Make a good impression, and you’ll get the chance to kill some imperials in the upcoming years.”

Kruta didn’t get the chance to ask what that meant before an immense pressure almost crushed every bone in his body. The trees before him had disappeared, giving way to a mountain burning with golden flames—a living mountain whose glare threatened to erase Kruta’s existence.

“This is the kid? You better not act out of turn with my niece, or I’ll—”

“Little Rock, you’ve grown since I saw you last,” Thousandflames grinned as worldending force gathered in her fist. “You even dare threaten my disciple.”

The flames shrunk, and the mountain transformed into a hulking golem twice Kruta’s height. “Wait, Mistress Valisa!”

The Thousandflames Eccentric answered with a burning punch that forced the wailing golem into another dimension.

“I don’t like that name,” Thousandflames muttered, glancing in Kruta’s direction.

“Ah, Kru—uh—Little Candle heard nothing.”

“Good. Anyway, what Little Rock said was right. Eruz Tayn was like a daughter to me, so Iz could be considered my only grandchild. How could I face Ruru in the future if her child suffered under my watch? You better be smart and alert.”

Kruta eagerly nodded.

“She’s here. Go on, make me look good.”

“What? How?” Kruta whispered as a fiery portal opened up before them.

“That’s perfect. Just keep looking stupid, and I’ll come off in a better light.”

His Master’s scathing remark became a distant whisper as Kruta mutely took in the being stepping out of the flames. He’d heard the rumors. To think they paled before reality. How could the Heavens tolerate such a beautiful being? Her appearance was truth, subverting the natural order.

“Mistress Thousandlflames?” the Heavenly Creature asked as she looked around. “Uncle’s not here?”

“Just call me Aunty Valisa,” Thousandflames said with a warm smile as she grabbed the newcomer’s hands. “Valderak had a few things to take care of. Now, look at you. What a pretty child! I can see Ruru in you. And you’ve even awakened your father’s flames. How marvelous.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Auntie,” she smiled, prompting the Dao to bloom. “I’ll do my best to live up to your expectations and hard work.”

“What expectations?” Thousandflames said with a gentleness that shouldn’t exist. “Just living well is enough. Is there anything you need before we go? Should we visit Lord Mohzius?”

“I just said goodbye to Grandpa. Everything else is ready,” the Celestial Spirit said. She turned to Kruta, who once again lost himself in her sapphire eyes. “You’re Aunty Valisa’s disciple? The one who knows Zac?”

For the first time in Kruta’s life, he cursed his suave grandfather for another reason. Why couldn’t he use his chiseled frame and slick mouth to charm another human instead? Then Kruta would also have been human, increasing his odds of courting—A painful stab quashed the taboo thoughts, and Kruta inwardly thanked his ancestral spirit for saving him from the pyre.

“You do somewhat resemble him,” Iz Tayn continued with a small smile. “Going by convention, I should call you Eighth Uncle.”

The fear gripping Kruta’s heart when sensing his Master’s glance far surpassed what he’d experienced during his numerous brushes with death. His soul shook as the walls closed in. It felt like the Ancestors turned their backs on him across the river of time, drawing a clear line in the sand to protect the tribe. Even the Dao was abandoning him, unable to bear the weight of his new title.

Kruta had never felt so exposed and alone. His instincts told him to shake some sense into this beautiful calamity before she got him killed. His brain screamed at him to prostrate on the ground and plead for mercy.

“N-no! We’re the same generation, so Mistress Tayn does not need to worry about honorifics,” Kruta stuttered, settling for wringing his hands and smiling pitifully. “It would be unnatural if I became the uncle of my friend’s friend. Kruta is just Kruta. Or Little Candle, if Mistress Tayn prefers.”

Iz’s head tilted in thought, and Kruta almost cried with relief when she nodded. At the same time, Kruta felt he’d lost something as her expression subtly changed. The distance between them suddenly seemed as great as the endless steppes.

“I’ll bring you to Zecia. You will also join my subordinates in their training over the upcoming year to better prepare for fate’s culmination. In return, you’ll avail yourself inside the trial, should I require assistance.”

“Of course! Thank you, Mistress Tayn! Kruta will work hard!”

Kruta shrugged off the disconcerting feeling, his heart singing with anticipation. He’d crossed the hurdle, and he only needed to endure one more year. By then, he should be strong enough to give Zac a well-deserved punch.

———-

“Not bad,” Ponel said without looking up from the parchment before him. “You actually earned yourself a Four Star Bounty. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“What! Faceless Monarchs are coming for me? I didn’t even kill that many. Well, maybe things got a bit out of hand in the end, but that wasn’t completely my fault,” Ogras said, his excuses giving him the unsettling feeling he was turning into that brute back home. He pushed down the terrifying notion, flashing an ingratiating smile. “Surely it would only require a word from Your Excellence to remove a kill order?”

“You’re right.”

“My sincere—”

“1,474 C-grade Nexus Coins, or treasures of equivalent value if you prefer.”

Ogras blankly looked at the youthful assassin for a few breaths before shaking his head. “Nevermind. The pressure will help sharpen my instincts.”

“So it will,” Ponel agreed. “I received word from your benefactor. The deadline changed, and you’re running out of time.”

“I am?” Ogras frowned, his intuition telling him this was all because of that troublemaker. “How do I get home?”

“Here,” Ponel said, throwing over a crystal and a teleportation Token.

Ogras scanned the list of names and locations, not recognizing a single one. “This is?”

“Targets. The kind of people who would make perfect additions to the little underworld you’re building,” Ponel said with a pointed look.

“Uh, you saw that?” Ogras coughed. “I’m simply—”

“I don’t care. It’ll hold impressive power, but it will forever be bound by strict rules and restrictions. One misstep and you’ll be dragged under,” the assassin said. “How can that headache compare to a simple stab?”

‘Easy to be picky when you’re sitting at the top of the ladder,’ Ogras inwardly complained, though he didn’t show any displeasure on his face.

“I’ve had one of my disciples place a Teleportation Token and a piece of my technique in each of their Spatial Rings. You’ll be back in your neighborhood by the time you’ve made your way through the list, having fully digested what you seized from the Heart Burial Domain. Don’t dally. The targets are very tricky, some having eluded capture for millennia.”

“Uh, what if I can’t find them? Or if they get themselves killed before I reach them?”

“Then I guess you’re out of luck,” Ponel shrugged. “You can always try to get to the next target if one slips through the net. You’ll probably have to rob a couple of factions to afford the teleportation fees, though. The distance between each jump is quite big for a Hegemon.”

“Fine. These are all Heretical Cultivators with great fell karma. They must have massive bounties placed on their heads,” Ogras said, his eyes gleaming.

“Of course. 1,474 C-grade Nexus Coins, to be exact,” Ponel nodded, his next words stifling the mad laugh already escaping Ogras’s lips. “Don’t worry, I’ve already claimed the bounties in your name. So work hard.”

“You’ve—” Ogras wheezed, looking wide-eyed at the crude doodle of a fountain held up by his Master.

“I can finally have my winter garden renovated,” Ponel said, a dangerous gleam appearing in his eyes. “You better not mess up my budget.”

“Your budget? Wait, the bounties exceed a thousand C-grade Coins? Just how powerful are these heretics?”

“It should be within your capabilities so long as you and your flag improve fast enough,” Ponel said as the Teleportation Token triggered in Ogras’s hand, dragging him into a spatial rift.

The extremely fast teleportation was agonizing despite the resilience awarded from sacrificing half the Heart Burial Domain. Ogras didn’t dare make Ponel the target of his bellyful of anger, afraid the assassin’s supernatural senses would pick up on it. So he could only settle for the next best thing.

One more year before he could thank Zac with a well-deserved stab.