Chapter 261: Unknown Threat

Just as established earlier, no one in the group was astonished or shocked by the magnitude of Aelric’s attack, and there was a good reason for that.

While his crescent strike might have been exclusive to him, the principles behind it was something that was not uniquely his. Rather, it was a capability shared by those who had reached the peak of the Rank Three Etheryean Realm.

However, simply being a Rank Three Etheryean did not automatically grant a cultivator the ability to project Aether beyond the body.

The realm was more accurately called that of the Aether Weavers, and, like the ranks before it, comprised three stages. Unlike Rank One Etheryeans, or Flesh Artificers, who refined their physiques, and Rank Two Soul Sensers, who cultivated their consciousness, Aether Weavers focused on Aether itself.

By this Realm, a cultivator had accumulated a considerable reserve within their body. Learning to manipulate that reserve was imperative; otherwise, it was little more than an impressive storehouse with no practical purpose.

Sure they could use the Aether within themselves for the sole purpose of sustaining their body, but that was simply a totally unimpressive way to use one of, if not the most powerful energy in Aetherium.

Those in the Initial Stage were known as Aether Influencers. They channelled Aether through their bodies, reinforcing particular attributes according to their needs.

In battle, an Influencer might strengthen their muscles to withstand a blow, sharpen their agility to evade an attack, or increase the force behind a punch. Whatever required improvement, Aether could be directed to reinforce it.

Middle Stage cultivators were called Aether Mergers. These ones could channel Aether into their Soul Essences, a privilege that certain Valorian Essence Runes already granted to professions such as Elementalists, Knights, and Alchemists.

But even then, the ability still depended on the nature of the Rune because without a suitable one, a cultivator could not freely manipulate Aether through their Soul Essence unless they advanced to become an Aether Merger.

And at the Final Stage stood the Aether Projectors, whose mastery allowed them to channel Aether beyond their bodies. The first two stages confined manipulation to specific vessels: the body or the Soul Essence.

But Projectors could direct their energy beyond those physical limits, shaping it into attacks or releasing it into the surrounding environment to form constructs or something. Furthermore, under suitable circumstances, they could even share it with others, making this capability even more desirable by Etheryeans, especially armies.

Take for instance, if two fighters were battling against a particular foe and one began to exhaust their reserves, an Aether Projector could transfer energy from their own body to replenish their companion.

And this specific usage is merely a tip to the iceberg that was Aether perception, being merely a basic application of their mastery. Moreover, their abilities were not entirely constrained by the restrictions of their Soul Essences, giving them options unavailable to lower-stage cultivators.

Aelric, who was not a Valorian, possessed no Soul Essence at all. Yet this deficiency had not prevented him from using his longsword as a medium for channelling Aether, forming a razor-sharp crescent that cut through the Ratchyrs as though they were rotten timber.

Had he wished, Aelric could have simply projected the energy through his fingers instead. Perhaps he had chosen the sword because he preferred not to look as though he were showing off.

But the group doubted that fact because knowing Aelric, drawing the blade might simply have been the least bothersome option for the lazy green-eyed youth...

Meanwhile, a taut silence settled over the ruined temple, draping the carnage like a pall across a battlefield.

The surviving Ratchyrs huddled together, their clicking calls subdued as they assessed the humans before them. Whatever they had initially perceived the intruders to be, they no longer considered them as ordinary preys.

The group, on the other hand, still had a colony to overcome. Aelric’s effortless strike and Vaelorin’s flames had not erased the memory of the creatures’ coordinated charge.

Rather than undermining the implications of their numbers, the group was even more wary, knowing that should the Ratchyrs chose to swarm them at close range, then even the strongest among them could be overwhelmed by their sheer numbers.

To make matters worse, despite the huge gap in strength between the Netherytes and them, their abilities were not equally suited to such a fight.

Vaelorin, Kaeloris, and Caelestra possessed Essence Runes capable of area attacks, while Aelric’s crescent had already struck multiple targets along a single path. Whether he had a technique with a wider reach remained unknown.

As for the others, they relied primarily on attacks directed at one opponent at a time, perhaps two if circumstances favoured them. But against a horde, that limitation could prove fatal.

Nobody spoke carelessly now. Their earlier mistakes had taught them the price of provoking the colony, and they watched the Ratchyrs regroup with guarded expressions.

Even Valmyr, who would ordinarily have found some irreverent remark to lighten the atmosphere, kept his mouth shut. Jesting was of little use when one’s audience had enough teeth to remove one’s face.

Indeed, instead of using their teeth to laugh, there was no doubt that the Ratchyrs would rather prefer using them to cut through flesh and bone alike.

Blue scorch marks glimmered along the severed bodies, casting an unnatural sheen over the black blood. A Ratchyr emitted a sharp click that ricocheted through the chamber. The uncertainty made it difficult to judge how many remained. None of the group dared assume that retreat meant surrender.

Regaleon adjusted his stance, watching the colony while studying the space between the pillars. Leadership meant accounting for failure before choosing a path, yet the temple offered few paths and fewer guarantees.

His gauntleted fingers tightened around his Soul Essence as the silence stretched, each passing second feeling less like a pause than the breath before another looming disaster.

Eventually, every gaze turned towards Aelric. After all, he knew more about Ratchyrs than any of them, and they expected him to offer advice before they chose their next move. Regaleon shared that expectation, although he had already been considering alternatives of his own.

The group had gradually accepted Regaleon as their leader, and even Aureleah appeared to have no qualms when it comes to that unique role. Nevertheless, the silver-haired Knight now looked to Aelric for guidance.

This is because most of the options he had considered led to dead ends, and since Aelric had demonstrated considerable knowledge of the creatures, Regaleon judged that this particular decision was best left to him.

After all, he wouldn’t be a good leader if he was simply to assume that he knew all things as there were times even he had to concede to his ignorance.

In actuality, the silver-haired Knight’s first thought had been to skirt around the colony as quietly as possible. Unfortunately, that plan was undermined by the Armour he wore.

Even the slightest shift caused its plates to whisper against one another, and crossing the chamber silently in such cumbersome Soul Essence was an ambition better suited to an optimist with very little experience of reality; in plainer terms, a fool.

Moreover, Regaleon possessed no Essence Rune capable of muffling his footsteps and an attempt to sneak past the Ratchyrs might alert them before the group had made it halfway across the temple.

He could also suggest returning the way they had come, but that route had already been compromised before this whole ordeal.

The massive stone door had closed behind them, and opening it again would require another series of grinding rumbles and thunderous impacts.

And Regaleon had no desire to discover whether such a commotion would send the colony into another frenzy. The first time had been more than enough.

So they waited, weapons ready and gazes fixed on Aelric, hoping the languid youth would produce a sensible solution from his seemingly inexhaustible reserve of indifference.

Yet as the group waited for his direction, none of them—not Regaleon, not Vaelorin, not even the ever-observant Aureleah—seemed to realize that the greatest threat to their lives was already close by.

Perhaps only Aelric had noticed because his emerald eyes shifted away from the regrouping colony for a microsecond and settled on a patch of shadow near the temple wall.

The change was slight, almost imperceptible, but the weariness vanished from his gaze.

For once, he offered no complaint, dry remark, or theatrical sigh. Whatever he had sensed was serious enough to command his attention.

Perhaps it might have been something he could handle alone, but this was a situation that demanded his absolute care and caution...