Morgath sat in the shade of a crumbling mausoleum on the outskirts of a small Moroccan town. The sun was merciless, high above the desert, but here, among the dead, it was cooler, more subdued. The graveyard was his temporary place, where few ventured. It gave him the solitude he needed to focus on meditating over the death spell he had begun to comprehend during the battle with the demonic sect.
The decision to stay in Morocco for one more month weighed heavily on him, but it was a necessary choice. His skin was still too light, too pale, to pass unnoticed if he were to suddenly cross back into Europe. That lack of a deep tan would betray him, signaling that he had not been here long, and drawing suspicion. People would connect the dots to the wish that had disappeared, and he would become a target. As strong as he was becoming, unnecessary trouble was not something he sought.
Morgath glanced around the graveyard. The air was thick with the scent of decay and dust, a tangible reminder of death lingering on the breeze. It was the perfect place to meditate on the death spell, and over the past weeks, he had made significant progress. Though he had not yet reached the pinnacle of Tier 1, he was close. The spell pulsed within him, dark and cold, waiting to be unleashed in its full power. However, he knew that its true potential would only be realized once it reached Tier 3, where it could be a devastating force in battle.
Still, this quiet graveyard, surrounded by spirits long passed, was helping. The silence and the sense of death's inevitability sharpened his focus. As the days passed, he could feel himself inching closer to a deeper understanding of the spell.
"Per spiritum umbrae et noctis decretum,
Voco mortem ad te venire.
Per venas et ossa, tenebrae serpant,
Ut Anima tua rapiat et silentium somnum.
Cum sibilo fatali et ultimo spiritu,
Ligatus nunc ad fata mortis.
Abeat Vita, frigidum sit sanguis,
Per Vim antiquum, hoc fatum evolvat.
Nulla lux servabit, nullum scutum stabit,
Finis tuus clauditur mea iussione."
[New spell added -Fatali {Tier 1} -93%]
The journey across the Strait of Gibraltar was easier the second time. Morgath swam the distance again, his powerful strokes cutting through the water, but this time, there were no sea creatures to challenge him. The system's warning still echoed in his mind—that animals, like humans, could cultivate. But now he was way stronger, so he could at least escape them.
Once he reached the southern shores of Europe, he wasted no time. His destination was Poland, where his parents were. The journey took him nearly a month, even at his enhanced speed. He crossed crumbling cities, abandoned highways, and fields overtaken by nature, the signs of humanity's slow collapse in the wake of spiritual energy's arrival. The world was changing, and Morgath could feel that change deep in his bones.
By the time he reached Poland, he was eager to see his parents again. He had much to share with them.
Thomas and Angela greeted him with open arms, their faces lighting up with joy at the sight of their son. It had been months since they had last seen him, and while they had kept in touch through messages, nothing could replace the comfort of seeing him in person.
They started to grow their own food in areas they annexed fromabandoned neighboring houses and live a peaceful life. Still, Morgath could see the subtle tension in his parents' eyes. The world was becoming more dangerous, and they knew that their strength would need to grow if they were to survive the coming years.
"I brought something for both of you," Morgath said after they had settled down for a meal. He pulled out ten shimmering pills from his pouch, five for each of them.
His parents' eyes widened as they saw the strengthening pills.
"These will make you stronger compared to your peers." he explained, handing them the pills.
Thomas and Angela exchanged a look, a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. They knew the value of these pills, and the fact that their son had not only made them but brought them here spoke volumes about his growth.
"So we can advance to rank 2 after we consume them?" his father asked, his voice steady.
"Yes. Additionally I've heard some people are already at Rank 2," Morgath continued, "but they're not strong. They rushed the process, breaking through without mastering neccesary skills."
After a few more days of rest and family time, Morgath knew it was time to leave. His parents were stronger now, and he had given them the tools they needed to continue growing on their own. His path, however, led him elsewhere—back to the Guardians of Order sect in France.
"I'll return when I can," Morgath promised as he hugged his parents goodbye. "Keep training. Stay safe."
"We will," his mother said, her eyes full of pride. "And you… don't push yourself too hard. You've done enough for us already."
Morgath smiled, but he knew that his journey was far from over. There was so much more to learn, so much more to achieve. His parents would be safe for now, but the world was growing more dangerous by the day. He needed to become stronger, not just for himself, but for them—and for the future that was rapidly approaching.
The trip back to France was long and arduous, taking him over a month. The roads were even more desolate than before. Cars, long out of fuel, lay abandoned on the highways like skeletons of a forgotten age. Buildings crumbled into dust, overtaken by nature and the elements. Occasionally, Morgath came across groups of survivors, some cultivating, others barely scraping by. He moved quickly, avoiding unnecessary encounters, focused on reaching his destination.
When he finally arrived at the headquarters of the Guardians of Order sect, it had been over two months since he had left Africa. The familiar grounds welcomed him, though he noticed subtle changes. The sect had grown, more members were training in the open courtyards, and the cultivation of members increased, almost all of them were at the pinnacle of rank 1.
The familiar stone archway of the Guardians of Order sect loomed ahead as Morgath approached, his steps purposeful but cautious. His time away had been necessary, but he knew that his sudden absence after the battle with the demonic sect would raise questions. As soon as he crossed the courtyard, it became clear that his return hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Morgath," a voice called from behind.
He turned to see one of the senior sect leaders, a stern-looking woman named Elara, standing at the entrance of the main hall. Her sharp, green eyes assessed him with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Morgath knew this wasn't going to be a casual conversation.
"You're being summoned," she said, gesturing for him to follow.
Without a word, Morgath fell in step behind her. They walked in silence through the corridors of the sect, passing students immersed in their training and discussions. It had been months since he'd last been here, and while much seemed the same, Morgath could feel subtle shifts in the atmosphere—more focused, more intense. The Guardians were preparing for something.
After a few moments, they arrived at a private chamber, and Elara motioned for him to enter. The room was quiet and simple, with only a table and two chairs, a setting that hinted at the serious conversation to come. Morgath sat, and Elara took the seat across from him, her expression hard to read.
"You've been gone for quite some time," she began, her tone measured but firm. "After the battle with the demonic sect, we expected you to return sooner. Instead, you disappeared without a word. Kenji relayed your message to us, but it wasn't enough."
Morgath nodded, understanding her concerns. "I spent time with my parents after the battle. I needed to ensure their safety and help them progress in their cultivation."
Elara's gaze softened slightly at the mention of his family, but her voice remained authoritative. "We recognize your contributions in the fight against the demonic sect. Your role was crucial in turning the tide. However, you can't just leave without notice, especially given your importance to the sect. We're not merely a collection of individuals; we're an organization that relies on trust and communication."
"I understand," Morgath said, his tone respectful but confident. "But if it helps ease the situation, I want you to know that I've grown far stronger since then. If I had the power I have now back during that battle, there's a chance I could've ended it on my own."
The room seemed to grow colder as Elara studied him. For a moment, there was only silence between them. Morgath's words weren't spoken out of arrogance, but they carried the weight of truth. He had pushed himself to new heights during his time away, and he knew his power had reached levels few in the sect could match.
Elara's eyes narrowed slightly, and Morgath could see the gears turning in her mind. She had known him since he first joined the sect, when he had no cultivation to speak of. Now, he was radiating the aura at the top of Rank 1, a feat that would be nearly impossible in such a short span of time—except for someone with Morgath's potential.
"If what you're saying is true," Elara said slowly, "then you've become someone the sect needs to keep a very close eye on. You could inflict serious damage if you wanted to."
There was no mistaking the edge of suspicion in her voice. Morgath had anticipated this reaction. His rapid rise in strength would naturally cause some concern, especially in a sect that valued order and control. But he wasn't here to cause harm, only to grow stronger and protect those he cared about.
"I have no intention of harming the sect," Morgath said calmly. "You know I haven't even started cultivating as early as most of the others, yet I've reached this level. I'm loyal to the Guardians as long as you won't cross me."
Elara leaned back in her chair, still wary but seeming to accept his words. "Very well. But from now on, if you leave the sect, you need to inform us directly. We cannot afford any surprises, not with the current state of the world."
Morgath gave a small nod. "Understood. I'll make sure to keep you informed."
Elara's expression softened, though she still looked thoughtful. "Good. And Morgath… I suggest you continue to tread carefully. Power like yours will draw attention, not just from our allies, but from our enemies as well."
"I'll keep that in mind," Morgath replied, standing up from the chair.
With their conversation over, Morgath left the chamber, feeling the weight of Elara's gaze on his back. She might have been cautious around him, but he knew she would report his progress to those above her, possibly even to the leaders of the Earth organization.
As Morgath made his way through the sect, his mind drifted to Kenji. He hadn't seen his mentor in some time, but he was eager to reconnect and share his experiences. Kenji's small house wasn't far from the sect's training grounds, nestled among the trees at the edge of the complex. Morgath entered the familiar home, but Kenji wasn't there yet. He could tell by the stillness of the room.
Sighing, Morgath dropped onto the worn couch in the corner of the living room. It felt strange to be back here after so long. The house hadn't changed much, but Morgath had. As he waited for Kenji's return, his thoughts wandered to the future—his cultivation, the Guardians, the looming presence of the Earth government.
Meanwhile, back in the sect, Elara stood in a dimly lit room, speaking into a device used to communicate with the higher-ups in the Earth government. Her voice was low and steady as she relayed her conversation with Morgath.
"He claims his strength has grown significantly since the battle with the demonic sect," she reported. "He even suggested that if he had his current power back then, he could have ended the battle on his own."
There was a pause on the other end of the line as her superiors digested the information.
"Do you believe him?" one of them asked.
Elara hesitated for a moment before answering. "Yes, I do. I've met Morgath when he joined the sect. Back then he didn't emit any cultivation and yet was as stong as the ones who were at the top. While their strength didn't change much, he now radiates cultivation at the top of the rank. It's very possible he isn't bragging, just saying the truth."
"Then it's a good thing he's on our side," the voice replied. "If he were to turn against us, we'd have a serious problem on our hands."
Elara nodded, even though they couldn't see her. "For now, he remains loyal. But we'll need to keep an eye on him, just in case. His potential is too great to ignore."
The conversation ended, and Elara turned off the device, letting out a quiet breath. She had no reason to distrust Morgath, but his power was becoming something the Earth government couldn't afford to overlook. If he continued to grow at this pace, he would either become their greatest asset—or their biggest threat.
Back at Kenji's house, Morgath remained seated on the couch, lost in thought. When Kenji finally arrived, there was a moment of mutual surprise, then warm smiles. Morgath stood to greet his mentor, who entered with a calm, almost serene expression.
"Morgath," Kenji said, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's been too long."
"It has," Morgath agreed, smiling. "But I've been busy, and I'm stronger now than ever."
Kenji raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Well then, tell me everything."