Chapter 9: Flames and Blades in the Dark
Elton sat cross-legged within his modest chamber, the dim glow of a lantern flickering against worn wooden walls. The room was simple, containing little more than a bed, a chest, and a training mat. Yet despite its humble furnishings, it was his space, a rare moment of solitude within the bustling Bright Blade Sub-Sect. Resting in his hands was a weathered scroll, one of many precious items drawn from his special storage bag.
As the parchment unfurled, golden inscriptions shimmered faintly before fading into legible script.
World Essence Absorption Art — A foundational technique designed to strengthen the body's endurance and refine Ki flow.
Elton sighed, pressing his fingers against his temple.
"This is trash," the inner voice sneered suddenly, its arrogant tone reverberating in his mind with commanding certainty. "You already possess superior techniques. Compared to what you wield, this is nothing more than a child scribbling their first attempt at cultivation."
Elton frowned, his eyes tightening. "Shut up. I know it is not high-tier, but it still has some usefulness as reference."
A low chuckle echoed through his skull, filled with scorn. "Reference? Foolish excuse. You waste your precious time on scraps when even your weakest technique already eclipses this."
Elton clenched his jaw in defiance. "That may be true, but every technique carries its own merit. By understanding more approaches, I can eventually refine my cultivation further."
The voice scoffed with disdain. "A king does not study a peasant's swordplay. But fine—waste your hours digging through rubbish, boy. I will be watching when you regret it."
Suppressing his irritation, Elton returned his focus to the scroll. The text outlined basic Ki circulation, a method laughably crude in comparison to his current arsenal. Yet even within simplicity, there were sparks of insight. Even trash, after all, could conceal gems within the dirt.
One Month Later
Life within the Bright Blade Sub-Sect settled into a rhythm both smooth and demanding. Every disciple received a stipend of resources, though never enough to truly satisfy their needs. To gain more, missions were required.
Elton kept himself constantly busy. He trained relentlessly, studied techniques with sharp diligence, and accepted every small mission offered. Whether patrolling vulnerable villages, hunting minor beasts, or escorting cautious merchants, he shouldered the tasks without complaint. Between these missions, he forged bonds with his comrades—Zoro, Christy, and several other disciples who had joined at the same time. He even gained familiarity with some of the older students, ties that might prove useful in the future.
Yet steady effort always leads to greater risk. His determination eventually drew him into a mission far more dangerous than he anticipated.
The forest pressed heavy around them, its silence broken only by the distant hoot of night birds and the cold glow of the moon. Elton moved with deliberate care through the undergrowth, his sharp eyes scanning for danger.
Six disciples followed him, each at Silver-Tier First or Second Rank. Their task was simple in theory: eliminate a den of Demonic Goblins that had harassed nearby villages. Goblins were dangerous in groups, but individually they were rarely formidable. Or so the disciples believed.
That assumption shattered instantly.
A guttural roar split the night as a towering goblin emerged from the shadows. Its skin was dark red, its eyes burned with an unnatural glow, and its grotesquely enlarged muscles rippled with veins of Ki energy. Cracks of unstable essence pulsed across its body like molten fissures.
"A mutated variant," one disciple gasped in terror. "That thing is at least Silver-Tier Fourth Rank!"
The goblin lunged forward with terrifying speed, swinging a crude club the size of a tree trunk. The blow struck with thunderous force, sending two disciples flying into trees, their armor crushed and bent.
"Regroup!" Elton barked, weaving between strikes with fluid steps. "Target its legs and eyes! Avoid direct clashes at all costs!"
The group moved with newfound urgency, their weapons striking at weak points while keeping distance from the club's devastating arcs. The goblin fought like a berserker, shrugging off wounds with frightening resilience. Blood spattered across the forest floor as disciples and monster alike suffered injuries.
Then, laughter slithered through the night.
From the darkness, a figure cloaked in black robes emerged. His aura radiated malevolence, thick with demonic corruption. His eyes glowed sickly yellow, and his hands flickered with writhing black flames.
"A fine struggle," the man mused, his smile sharp and cruel. "But let us make this truly entertaining."
He raised his hand, unleashing a storm of Demonic Fire Bolts.
"Scatter!" Elton shouted, forcing his team into frantic motion.
Flames rained upon them. Several disciples were struck despite their efforts, their armor searing and skin blistering under the heat. The stench of scorched flesh spread through the trees, mingling with the blood-soaked air.
Though battered, the disciples had weakened the mutated goblin enough that its rampage slowed. Yet the true threat had stepped forward.
Elton's eyes narrowed. A demonic cultivator? Here of all places?
"Finish the goblin!" he ordered, his voice hard with authority. "I will deal with him."
The robed man chuckled, his amusement evident. "Bold words. And who might you be, little disciple?"
"Elton Solman," Elton replied, his grip tightening around his blade. "And you?"
The man's smirk grew sharp. "Varric of the Bloodshade Sect." His aura exploded outward, pressing against the forest like a wave of choking smoke. "Remember my name before you die."
He struck without hesitation.
—Demonic Flame Wave—
A crescent of black fire roared through the air, searing everything in its path. Elton twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the blistering heat, before surging forward with his blade raised.
—Bright Blade Stance First Form: Piercing Light—
His sword blazed with Ki Essence as he thrust toward Varric's chest. Sparks erupted as the strike clashed against a hastily conjured —Demonic Flame Barrier—. The fiery shield absorbed the blow with a screech of energy, forcing Elton backward.
"Fast," Varric admitted, his grin widening. With a flick of his wrist, a burning chain erupted.
—Dark Inferno Chain—
The attack lashed toward Elton like a serpent of fire.
Elton ducked low, instincts razor sharp. The blazing tendrils hissed past him, scorching bark and soil alike. He responded instantly, channeling Ki into his blade.
—Bright Blade Stance Second Form: Sweeping Crescent—
His sword traced a gleaming arc, light carving the darkness with brilliant precision. Varric leapt back, narrowly evading the full strike, but not without cost. The edge of Elton's attack sliced through the man's robe, drawing a thin crimson line across his chest.
Varric laughed, his voice twisted with excitement. "Not bad at all." His hand rose high, black flames coiling like a blooming flower. "But let us see how long you last against this!"
—Demonic Hellfire Lotus—
The night burned red with demonic fire.
The battle had only just begun.