An hour passed in stillness broken only by the occasional shift of decaying flesh settling into itself and the distant whisper of toxic winds across the blasted landscape. Tian's eyes opened slowly, consciousness returning with the measured patience of someone who had learned long ago not to rush recovery after such ordeals. His body ached with the particular exhaustion that came from having one's mind torn free from supernatural imprisonment, but he was alive, aware, and most importantly—real.
The first thing he did upon sitting up was turn his attention to Amisra, who lay unconscious beside him, her breathing shallow and irregular. The young woman had pushed herself far beyond safe limits to break through the Greater Hasura's mental trap, and the cost of her heroism was written clearly across her pale, ichor-stained features.
Foolish girl, he thought with a mixture of exasperation and profound gratitude. Always throwing yourself into danger to save this old man. One day your courage will be the death of you.
But not today. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Settling into a comfortable position beside her unconscious form, Tian began to chant in the ancient language that had become as natural to him as breathing over decades of practice. The words flowed from his lips with practiced ease, each syllable carrying precise intention and controlled power. This was not the desperate, improvised magic of his fabricated memories, but the refined technique of a true master who had earned his abilities through genuine suffering and triumph.
As the chant built in intensity, energy began to flow outward from Tian's body in visible streams of golden-white light. The power moved with liquid grace, forming itself into channels and currents that surrounded Amisra like a cocoon of Energy force. It was beautiful to witness—not the crude application of raw power, but something more akin to art, each thread of energy precisely placed to serve a specific purpose in her recovery.
The energy worked like gentle rain upon parched earth, soaking into Amisra's skin and deeper tissues with patient thoroughness. Where it touched, the black ichor that had splattered across her during the battle began to dissolve and lift away, washing off as if subjected to invisible waters. The corruption had no defense against such concentrated purity—it simply ceased to exist in the presence of Tian's power.
Slowly, gradually, Amisra's true appearance emerged from beneath the layers of filth and blood. Her skin, revealed inch by inch as the cleansing energy did its work, was a beautiful brown tone that seemed to glow with inner health despite her current weakened state. Her features, freed from the mask of battle's aftermath, showed a striking beauty that transcended mere physical attractiveness—there was character written in the lines around her closed eyes, strength evident in the set of her jaw even in unconsciousness.
Her long hair, matted and tangled with gore, began to flow freely as the ichor dissolved from its strands, revealing waves of dark silk that fell past her shoulders. The white dress she wore, which had been so stained and torn that its original color was barely discernible, gradually returned to pristine condition as the healing energy worked its way through every fiber of the fabric. For a second she opened her eyes — like blue emeralds , and gave soft grin and fallen into slumber.
She looks so young when she sleeps, Tian observed with the detached affection of someone who had known countless companions across too many years. It's easy to forget that she's barely lived three decades when she fights like a veteran of a hundred wars.
As he worked on Amisra's recovery, the healing energy automatically extended to encompass his own form. The black ichor that had covered him like a second skin began to slough away, revealing the man beneath. Unlike in his fabricated memories where he had been young and newly awakened to power, the real Master Tian appeared to be in his absolute prime—perhaps fifty years of age, though his actual years numbered far higher.
His body was that of a warrior maintained at peak efficiency, muscles clearly defined but not oversized, every line speaking of deadly grace rather than brute strength. His face, now cleaned of corruption's taint, showed a rugged handsomeness marked by experience—strong features that had weathered countless storms and emerged harder for the tempering. His eyes, a clear and penetrating brown, held depths that could only come from someone who had witnessed both the best and worst that existence had to offer.
Still holding together reasonably well, he thought with dry amusement, examining his cleaned hands. Though I suppose even divine cultivation can't completely halt time's march. Another century or two and I'll start looking my actual age.
After what felt like an appropriate duration for the initial healing work, Tian checked Amisra's condition with the practiced eye of someone who had tended countless wounded over the years. Her color had improved significantly—the deathly pallor had given way to something approaching healthy sleep rather than unconscious collapse. But she would need more time to fully recover, and this location, surrounded by the Greater Hasura's rotting corpse, was far from ideal for convalescence.
The black ichor that pooled everywhere around them was more than mere bodily fluid—it carried traces of the creature's corrupting essence, a spiritual poison that could seep into vulnerable flesh and twist it into something monstrous given enough exposure. Amisra, weakened as she was from her heroic effort to free him, would be particularly susceptible to such contamination.
"Can't have you turning into some kind of abomination after all the trouble you went through to save me," Tian murmured, his voice rough from disuse and recent trauma. "That would be a poor way to repay you."
With practiced movements that spoke of long familiarity with such situations, he stood and began gathering his power in a different configuration. A thin layer of energy formed just above his eyes like spectral lenses, enhancing his already formidable perception to levels that could detect even the subtlest spiritual contamination. Through this enhanced vision, he surveyed their surroundings with methodical thoroughness.
The landscape around them was a nightmare made manifest. The Greater Hasura's corpse stretched for what appeared to be miles in every direction, its massive form so vast that individual sections could have been mistaken for geographic features rather than body parts. Black ichor pooled in vast lakes between chunks of rotting flesh that rose like obscene hills against the toxic sky. The stench alone should have killed any normal human who ventured near, and the spiritual corruption radiating from the remains was orders of magnitude worse than the physical decay.
As Tian prepared to move to safer ground, Amisra began to float beside him as if weightless, suspended within a sphere of concentrated energy that held her as gently as a mother's arms cradling an infant. The construct was beautiful in its complexity—thousands of thin threads of power connected the outer shell to Amisra's body at precise acupuncture points, creating a network that both protected and continued her healing process. She appeared to sleep peacefully within this protective cocoon, floating beside him like some ethereal balloon tethered by strings of solidified light.
"Come along then," Tian said softly, addressing her unconscious form as he began walking. "Let's find you somewhere more suitable for recovery. Somewhere that doesn't smell like the inside of a demon's bowels."
His gait as he walked away from the carnage carried the unmistakable bearing of a veteran warrior who had survived countless battlefields. Each step was measured, efficient, conserving energy while covering ground with deceptive speed. His posture remained alert despite his exhaustion, eyes constantly scanning for threats even as he maintained the complex energy construct that carried Amisra beside him.
After perhaps twenty minutes of steady walking, putting considerable distance between themselves and the Greater Hasura's corrupted remains, Tian found a stretch of relatively clear ground. The barren landscape here showed only scattered rocks and hard-packed earth—no vegetation, no water, nothing that could sustain normal life, but crucially, no pools of black ichor or chunks of rotting demon flesh either.
This will have to do, he decided, coming to a halt. Not exactly a five-star accommodation, but we've both slept in worse places.
Spreading his hands wide, Tian began another chant, this one carrying different tonal qualities than his healing magic. The words seemed to push against reality itself, demanding rather than requesting as they reshaped the spiritual atmosphere around him. His energy expanded outward in a perfect sphere, extending perhaps fifty meters in every direction from where he stood.
As the spell took hold, something remarkable occurred. The omnipresent darkness that had covered this region like a suffocating blanket was forcibly ejected from the space Tian had claimed. The corruption, the shadows, the oppressive gloom that had seemed as permanent as the ground itself—all of it was pushed beyond the boundaries of his power, revealing the true nature of the land beneath.
Within his sanctified sphere, the difference was shocking. Where darkness had reigned absolute, now there was only clear air and visible ground. The toxic miasma that poisoned every breath outside this bubble couldn't penetrate the barrier Tian had erected. Small rocks became visible, their surfaces worn smooth by winds that had blown across this blasted landscape for who knew how many years. The earth itself, freed from the shroud of corruption, showed its true colors—browns and grays and occasional hints of what might once have been other hues before this world fell to darkness.
"There," Tian spoke aloud, examining his work with critical satisfaction. "A proper safe zone. Should last at least a few days before the corruption outside starts to eat through the barrier. More than enough time for us both to recover."
He guided Amisra's floating form to a relatively flat section of rock that could serve as a makeshift bed, then carefully lowered her onto it. The energy sphere that had carried her contracted and reformed into a more stable configuration, becoming a protective layer that covered her like an invisible blanket while continuing to feed healing power into her weakened system.
"You really did push yourself too far this time," Tian murmured, studying her peaceful face with concern. "Breaking through a Greater Hasura's mental prison from the outside... do you have any idea how dangerous that was? The feedback alone could have shattered your mind."
But you did it anyway, he added silently. Because that's who you are. Always charging into impossible situations with nothing but determination and whatever scraps of power you've managed to accumulate.
Satisfied that Amisra was as safe and comfortable as circumstances allowed, Tian moved a short distance away and settled into the lotus position. His own recovery could not be delayed much longer—the battle might be over, but his reserves were dangerously depleted. The mental prison had drained more than just his consciousness; it had leeched away spiritual energy at an alarming rate while he was trapped within it.
As he began his meditation, channeling ambient energy into his depleted reserves through the careful techniques he had refined over decades of practice, Tian allowed himself a moment of honest reflection on what had transpired.
The fabricated memories he had experienced in the Greater Hasura's trap had been constructed from fragments of his actual past, he realized now. The sanctuary, the elders, the desperate battles against creature hordes—all of those things had happened, though not in the neat, repeated cycles his imprisonment had suggested. The reality had been far messier, far more tragic, and far more costly than even those grim visions had shown.
He pushed the thought away. Dwelling on losses wouldn't help either him or Amisra right now. They needed to recover, reassess their situation, and then continue the mission that had led them into this cursed place to begin with.
One crisis at a time, he reminded himself firmly. First, heal. Then, plan. Then, act. The dead will still be dead tomorrow, and the living need you focused on keeping them that way.
As the hours passed in silent meditation, Master Tian and Amisra rested within their bubble of sanctified space, two survivors clinging to life in a world that had long since given itself over to darkness and corruption. The journey ahead remained as dangerous as ever, but for this brief moment, they had earned a respite from the endless struggle.
And sometimes, a moment of peace was worth more than all the power in existence.