Chapter 39: Rising Currents All Over the Country
The days slipped by in quiet succession, the rhythm of sect life settling into something that could almost be called peaceful. Elton finished the final repetition of his body refinement routine, sweat clinging to his skin and dripping onto the stones beneath him. His shirt stuck to his body, damp from exertion, while the mountain breeze whistled softly through the training yard.
Not far away, Erica hovered gracefully in mid-air, cross-legged and surrounded by a halo of Arcane Essence. Her breathing was even, her expression calm, and the aura around her body shimmered like flowing starlight.
Elton tossed a towel over his shoulder and glanced toward her. "So, when are you finally going to move into your own housing unit?"
Erica cracked one eye open and smirked. "That place is for storage. I am living here with you from now on."
Elton sighed with exasperation. "That makes the third time I've asked, and the third time you've said the same thing."
"Exactly. So stop asking," she teased, closing her eye again.
He shook his head but couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips. Since the day she had awoken, Erica declared they would remain together inside the sect. Every time he thought she was joking, she proved she meant every word.
Yet what impressed him most was her cultivation speed. She was already nearing the peak of Silver Tier 2, a pace that rivaled Christy's progress when they had first met. Christy had already been Silver Tier 3 back then, but Erica was closing that gap with startling speed.
Life fell into a cadence of missions, training, and cultivation. Cedric and others sometimes returned to their hometowns, seeking brief reprieve before throwing themselves back into sect duties. Some days were quiet, filled with study and sparring. Other days descended into chaos, as squads were sent to suppress bandits, purge rogue cultivators, or hunt escaped beasts.
Nearly half a year later, Elton broke through to Silver Tier 3. The breakthrough came after long months of grueling training and relentless missions, and the satisfaction ran deep through his bones. Not long after, Erica's energy erupted within the same courtyard—she too advanced into Silver Tier 3. Though her face remained calm, her eyes burned with determination.
Cedric followed a month later, his stubborn will pushing him through the barrier into Silver Tier 3 as well. Still, frustration weighed heavily on him. "I feel like I'm talented," he muttered one evening, "but compared to you monsters, I look painfully average."
Elton clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Keep going. Don't compare yourself to us. Everyone grows at their own pace."
Around this time, darker rumors began circulating. More missions involved demonic cultivators, mutated beasts, or criminals wielding strange powers. Some tasks were exterminations, others were hunts, but all carried the feeling of something deeper lurking behind the scenes.
It did not remain whispers for long. Reports spread quickly: a seal within the Stone Forest had fractured.
Elton's memories immediately returned to that cursed mission. He could still feel the blood, the screams, and the devastation. Now, the ancient prison beneath the forest's crust had begun to crack wide. Demonic beasts and other horrors slipped free, scattering across Brawlmanica.
Major sects rushed to respond. The Bright Brilliant Blade Sect, Iron Fang Sect, Iron Dog Alliance, and countless smaller factions mobilized. Many threats were recaptured or destroyed, but not all. Some vanished into the wilds, leaving only carnage behind.
Disturbingly, the Night's Light Devouring Church remained aloof. Their silence drew suspicion, though none could force answers from them.
Over the following months, more seals across the kingdom began to fail. Ancient prisons burst open, scattering demonic cultivators, rogue prisoners, and essence-twisted beasts into the lands. Chaos spread like cracks through glass, reaching every province.
By the time a full year passed since Erica, Ramiro, Kuroha, and Kageha had joined the sect, another massive recruitment began. Over one hundred and twenty disciples entered—more than double the last wave. Most bore noble crests or hailed from wealthy clans. With danger rising everywhere, families placed their heirs under sect protection.
The Bright Brilliant Blade Sect swelled in influence, gaining increased funding, materials, and broader authority across Brawlmanica. But tensions grew equally fast.
Despite external threats, the old grudge between the Kingdom of Brawlmanica and the Fighting Brawlman Sect festered like an open wound. The Bright Brilliant Blade Sect remained the strongest in the region, supported by the rising Iron Fang Sect and the slow resurgence of the long-crippled Great Brawlman Sect.
Two centuries earlier, the Great Brawlman Sect stood as the kingdom's pride. Its leader was said to be a man of unmatched charisma, perhaps even bound by blood to the royal line. For decades, their unity brought peace and stability.
But peace in the cultivation world is fragile.
The Fighting Brawlman Sect, originally a single noble clan, rose with ruthless ambition. They devoured rivals, forged bloody coalitions, and allied themselves with foreign cultivators whose cruelty matched their hunger. Together, they crushed the Great Brawlman Sect in a brutal campaign. The royal family could only watch as their closest allies collapsed and their influence fractured.
The kingdom might have endured the wound—until mysterious clans like the Soloman family and the Aka Boshi no Tengan clan appeared, reshaping power in unpredictable ways.
Now, in the present day, the Great Brawlman Sect had returned. Its resurgence shook every corner of the region. Ambitious youths, desperate warriors, and cunning schemers alike flocked to its gates. The Fighting Brawlman Sect reeled, their arrogance bruised, their schemes crumbling against unexpected resistance.
Rumors swirled about the sect's new leader. Some whispered he was an ancient monster, a man who cheated time itself. Others claimed he once ruled beside kings. Whatever the truth, his reputation was enough. Worse still was the shadow beneath him: a terrifying expert who left behind only a single message.
"Cross the line, and blood will flow."
The words were not poetic. They were a promise.
Three months after the massive recruitment, disaster struck again. A subsect under the Fighting Brawlman Sect was assaulted by a beast raid of unnatural ferocity. Hundreds were slain, buildings flattened, and blood stained the streets. Though the defenders barely survived, the losses crippled them.
Then the storm grew louder.
At the Bright Blade Sect, the skies dimmed unnaturally. Pressure blanketed the mountain valley like a suffocating shroud. Moments later, the alarms wailed.
A high-pitched siren echoed across the sect. Elders erupted into movement. Formation circles lit up. War horns blared. Forge masters and alchemists scrambled as talismans and pills were distributed. Defensive walls shimmered as layer upon layer of spiritual energy surged into place.
The highest emergency had been declared.
A beast tide was coming. Not a skirmish, not a raid—an endless tide of fangs, claws, and hate.
Elton stood amid the chaos, his body radiating Silver Tier 3 energy. Around him, Zoro, Cedric, Ramiro, Erica, Kuroha, Kageha, and several others formed a squad, ready for what was to come.
The pressure pressed against them like an ocean, but they stood their ground. This was not simply another mission. This was another war.
Reinforcements soon began to arrive. Noble clans marched to the sect's aid, banners fluttering in the wind. Among them came the Soloman family. Erica greeted her kin with pride, though her gaze kept straying back toward Elton.
But one stood apart.
A young man with long black hair and red eyes surveyed the courtyard with cold detachment. His name was John Soloman, and unlike Erica's warmth and loyalty, his presence was icy and indifferent. His gaze slid over Elton without pause, neither hostile nor welcoming—merely dismissive.
Erica clenched her fists, her voice low and bitter. "Don't mind him. He thinks himself above everyone who does not share his name."
Elton gave a small smile and shrugged. "Let him think whatever he wants. When the blood starts spilling, reputations mean nothing."
As twilight fell, the truth revealed itself.
Thousands of beast signatures surged from the wilds. Demonic interference was confirmed. And worst of all, the movements of the tide carried signs of unnatural control, as if guided by an unseen hand.
The calm before the storm stretched across the land.
Elton stood with his friends, his sect, and the warriors of Brawlmanica, waiting for the coming clash.
The tide was almost upon them.