As Elias approached the gray flame to his aperture, the gray flame seemed to tremble slightly as if trying to resist. But Elias's was firm.
He pulled the manifestation to his abdomen, and as if sensing what was about to happen, the flame started to struggle wildly. But it was useless.
The instant the flame made contact with the belly, the void behind it reacted instantly, pulling the manifestation in with a force that left no room for resistance. The flame was sucked into the void, spiraling inward as it was drawn into the depths of Elias's being. The process was swift but intense, the flame twisting and turning in a desperate attempt to break free.
Once inside, the flame's struggles ceased, and the void within Elias's rune began to solidify around it. It was as if the flame was being encased in an invisible barrier, sealing it off from the outside world. The energy of the flame was still present, but it was now trapped, unable to escape or exert its influence without Elias's command.
The gray flame, now safely stored within the void, emitted a faint light, resembling a distant star in the abyss. It lay dormant, its power ready to be used when infused with lifespan.
Some adults were intrigued by this scene, but it did not really raise any suspicion. Merging with a manifestation was relatively easy and looked similar to anyone else.
Elias barely had time to register the strange feeling of having a manifestation before the unmistakable sound of battle reached his ears. The clash of metal, the hiss of fog, and the distant screeches of Brume Swarmers echoed through the air. The battle had begun.
...
A Rank 2 cultivator named Lin stood atop the city wall, his breath steady as he focused on the mist-covered plains beyond. The fog was thin but rolled like waves across the ground, and within it, he saw movement. The first wave of Brume Swarmers had arrived.
Lin's eyes narrowed as the creatures emerged from the fog. They were small, grotesque monsters with wrinkled, bat-like wings. Their sharp teeth glinted in the faint light, and their eyes glowed with a sickly, pale yellow. Their bodies dripped with moisture, leaving trails of dirty water as they scuttled forward, their wings flapping weakly.
Lin breathed in deeply, feeling the power of his manifestation surge within him. The air around him began to chill, and a thin layer of fog gathered at his feet, responding to his will. One of his manifestations allowed him to control over some mist priorities. He could make it thicker, heavier, and more difficult for the Swarmers to move through.
All around him, other cultivators were preparing their own manifestations. Some wove the fog into dense barriers, while others condensed it into sharp, needle-like projectiles, ready to launch at the enemy. The city walls were lined with traps set by the cultivators—areas where the fog was so thick that it could trap anything that entered, slowing it to a crawl.
The Brume Swarmers moved as a pack, their wings flapping frantically as they closed in on the walls. Lin focused, extending his hand toward the advancing swarm. The fog around them suddenly thickened, turning into a sticky, almost liquid form that clung to the creatures, dragging them down.
One Swarmer broke free and lunged at the wall. Lin was ready. With a sharp gesture, he compressed the fog around it, crushing the creature mid-air. It let out a shriek before falling to the ground in a wet heap. Another tried to climb the wall but was quickly shot down by another cultivator.
The battle was fierce. The fog traps were activated as more Swarmers reached the base of the wall, their bodies slowing as the thick mist engulfed them. Lin saw another cultivator nearby manipulating the fog into a sharp blade, slicing through the creatures with precise, calculated strikes.
The Swarmers, though vicious in groups, were weak when isolated. Lin capitalized on this, using his manifestation to separate them from the main pack, pulling them into pockets of thick fog where they became easy targets. The sound of their screeches filled the air, but the cultivators remained focused, methodically cutting down the creatures as they came.
After a moment, Lin watched as the last of the Brume Swarmers fell, their twisted bodies littering the ground below.
The fog began to thin, giving him a brief moment to catch his breath. His muscles ached from the strain of fighting for so long, and he could feel the fatigue creeping in.
Gray flames hovered above the dead insect-like Swarmers, flickering faintly. Lin didn't waste any time. He grabbed a small glass bottle from his pouch and quickly started collecting the flames, just like the other cultivators around him.
The flames were weak, just like the Swarmers, but they still had value. The town had promised good money for any manifestations as a form of reward, even from low-ranking beasts like these. Lin couldn't help but smile at the thought of the reward.
"I'm going to make a fortune if I survive this" he muttered to himself as he bottled the last of the flames.
But his thoughts were interrupted by a loud, piercing screech. A sudden gust of wind blew through the thinning fog, and Lin's heart sank. More Swarmers were coming, and they weren't alone this time.
"Murk Skulkers!" Lin shouted, his voice cutting through the air.
The other cultivators reacted instantly. They pulled out thin, glass-like bottles and drank the contents without hesitation. Lin followed suit, feeling the liquid coursing through him but, more precisely, his eyes. His vision sharpened, and the mist that seemed to thicken by the second surrounding the incoming swarm seemed to thin anew. He could see the beasts more clearly now.
The cultivators were not stupid. They knew their enemies and their specialities and of course prepared everything in advance. Murk Skulkers were a rank 2 beast, famous for their fog that would confuse their prey. So the moment they appeared, they immediately drank the sap of a rank 2 Vision Tree.
This tree sap, which could only be obtained from the trees' roots, had a powerful effect on the cultivators' vision. It allowed them to see through the mist and fog, granting them clarity of sight and would allow them to see the beasts without being confused.
The Murk Skulkers were larger, more menacing versions of the Swarmers. Their red eyes glowed fiercely, and their claws looked razor-sharp. They moved erratically, like some swarm of flying wet sick rats, their leathery wings cutting through the fog as they advanced.
Lin braced himself, his sword ready. The other cultivators did the same. However, something truly shocked all experienced cultivators.
The Murk Skulkers actually led the charge!
"What? They are in the frontline?"
"They are not following the usual tactics!"
"Be careful!"
The Murk Skulker was a beast known for its cowardly nature. They would usually stay hidden and use their manifestation to confuse their victim before sending their minions to do the job. However, for some reason, this time, they were leading the charge.
The cultivators were confused, but they didn't have time to think. They had to focus on the battle.
One of the Skulkers swooped down, its claws aimed at Lin. He sidestepped and swung his sword, catching the beast in midair. The blade cut deep, and the Skulker let out a pained screech, crashing to the ground. But there was no time to celebrate. Another Skulker was already upon him, slashing with its claws.
Lin raised his arm, forming a thick barrier of fog to block the attack. The claws scraped against the mist, but Lin's barrier held strong. He retaliated with a swift strike, slicing through the creature's leathery skin.
Despite the brutal death of some cultivators, they fought with fierce determination. The air was filled with the sound of clashing metal and the shrieks of dying beasts. The Swarmers tried to take advantage of the chaos, darting in to attack the cultivators whenever they could.
But the Vision Tree sap was doing its job—the mist that usually disoriented the defenders was now nothing more than a thin veil, easily pierced by their sharpened sight.
Lin cut down another Skulker, his breath heavy. But something felt off. The beasts weren't fighting like they usually did.
Instead of using their usual hit-and-run tactics, they were charging straight at the cultivators, ignoring their own safety. It was almost as if they didn't care about surviving which was shocking. If we add the fact that Murk skulkers were leading the charge, it was obvious that something was wrong.
Beasts were not mindless creatures. Though they were far from human intelligence, they still had a certain level of cunning and self-preservation. They would usually run away in a losing fight.
Yet all of them were moving differently than normal. Instead of attacking in an ambush or they hit and run tactic, they were charging at the cultivators head-on like mindless creatures that don't fear death.
"Why aren't they retreating?" Lin thought, his grip tightening on his sword. A Murk Skulker lunged at him, but he dodged, using his fog to create a decoy that the beast slammed into instead. Lin quickly dispatched it, but the uneasy feeling in his chest only grew stronger.
The battle dragged on, but the beasts kept coming. The cultivators were starting to tire, their movements slowing as their energy waned. Lin could see the exhaustion on their faces, but what concerned him more was the look of confusion and fear in their eyes. They had fought these creatures before, but never had the beasts been so relentless, so mindless in their attacks.
It was as if they were being forced to fight.
Finally, the last of the Murk Skulkers fell, its body crumpling to the ground. Lin stood there, panting, as the fog began to lift totally. The battlefield was littered with the corpses of the Swarmers and Skulkers, but there was no relief among the cultivators. Instead, there was only a grim silence.
"They should have retreated way earlier," one of the older cultivators muttered, echoing Lin's thoughts.
Lin nodded, his mind racing. The beasts had been acting strangely, and it wasn't just their refusal to retreat. They had charged head-on, without any of the cunning or caution they usually showed. It was almost as if something had driven them to fight to the death.
The other cultivators gathered around, their faces reflecting the same concern. They had used a lot of aether in the fight, and their reserves were running low. But that wasn't what worried them most.
"Are they really the brume swarmers we know?" Lin said quietly, voicing what everyone else was thinking.
The group, now composed of about 70 cultivators, exchanged uneasy glances. They knew this wasn't over. The fog had thinned for now, but it would return, and with it, more beasts.
Yet, they did not expect what would happen next.
One of the cultivators, a tall man with a deep frown, pointed at the horizon. "The fog ... The fog is gathering again!"
Lin's stomach tightened as he turned his gaze in the direction the man indicated. Sure enough, the fog, which had just begun to thin, was now thickening once again, rolling in like a living, breathing entity. It swirled and churned, growing denser by the second.
"What?" another cultivator exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "It's true. The fog is gathering again!"
"That's impossible!" someone else muttered, shaking their head. "We've killed more than 400 Swarmers! They should have retreated by now!"
Lin could hear the fear and frustration in their voices. He watched the fog, feeling his heart sink. The appearance of another wave of fog could mean only one thing—more Swarmers were coming.
"How can this be happening?" a young female cultivator with some bloody mark of bites cried out, her voice trembling. "We just defeated the last wave, and now they're already here?"
"This is bad, really bad," Lin muttered under his breath. His thoughts raced as he considered their options. They were already drained from their last battle, and their aether reserves were dangerously low. Facing another wave now, especially after just fending off the last one, could be disastrous.
"Inform the elders of the situation and call for reinforcements!" one of the older cultivators shouted, his voice firm despite the panic starting to spread.
A cultivator quickly pulled out a small piece of paper, his hands moving with practiced speed. He scribbled a short, urgent message and then activated his manifestation. A bird made entirely of smoke emerged from his hand, its form delicate and wispy. With the paper attached to the bird, it took flight, soaring into the sky and heading directly towards the main building of the clan.