The village was a ghost town. With the disappearance of 80 Phoenix clan members across all the 5 villages and the villagers residing in all the villages fleeing after the news that their were Phoenix clan members left the village deserted even though it had only been an hour. This was because of the stories of what the Black Talons would when they would find out that places were hiding Phoenix clan members. There was absolute silence in the villages not a single sound could be heard.
The silence was broken.
A faint vibration, like a low hum, began to spread through the air. At first, it was gentle, easily mistaken for a trick of the wind. With every second the hum grew stronger and stronger until a small black dot appeared in the sky smaller than a grain of rice exuding an overwhelming amount of power.
Above the village, the tear in reality began to grow. The air seemed to crackle and twist around it, as if space itself were rebelling against what was about to happen. The small tear widened unnaturally, revealing a void of utter darkness dotted with shimmering lights that looked like distant stars.
Then the hands appeared.
Massive, veined with strength, and radiating an aura that crushed the very air around them, they gripped the edges of the tear. Slowly, deliberately, the hands tore the rift open wider and wider. The darkness beyond grew, spilling an oppressive energy over the land. The hands belonged to no ordinary human this was a feat no legendary-tier aura user could achieve. Only one of the mystic-tier warriors of the Drakarion Empire could wield such raw power.
Through the rift stepped General Drazan, one of the twelve mystic-tier aura users of the allied enemy empires. Standing nearly eight feet tall, his body was a fortress of muscle and power. He wore black armor inscribed with runic symbols, each one pulsing faintly as if alive with energy. His eyes glowed a faint gold, and his presence alone made the air suffocating.
Drazan glared into the ruined village, his gaze scanning the area as if searching for something. "Move, you worthless maggots!" he roared over his shoulder, his voice deep and filled with authority.
From the rift behind him, a force emerged: thirty legendary-tier aura users, each wearing the emblems of the Drakarion Empire, their armor pristine and gleaming. Following them were 150 more soldiers, adepts and advanced-tier warriors, their disciplined movements betraying their ruthless training. They spread out quickly, forming ranks in the destroyed village square.
Drazan held the rift open for them, his hands radiating mystic-tier energy. "Hurry the fuck up!" he snarled, his golden eyes narrowing. "You think I'm doing this for fun? Move before I lose my patience!"
When the last soldier had stepped through, Drazan released the rift, letting it collapse in on itself with a soundless implosion. The sky returned to its previous state, but the air remained thick with the aftereffects of the tear.
Drazan stepped forward, his towering frame exuding menace. He turned to the three figures standing apart from the other soldiers his commanders, legendary-tier warriors known only as One, Two, and Three.
"Listen up," Drazan ordered. "One, you're in charge of the search. Find her, Sera. The rumors say she's legendary-tier but capable of killing mythical-tier fighters. I want to see if that's true."
Commander One, a tall, gaunt man with sharp features and a silver spear strapped to his back, nodded. "Understood, General."
Drazan smirked, his voice growing louder, uncaring of who might overhear. "But make no mistake those old bastards in the empire aren't going to waste my time tracking down a bunch of cowards. Find her, deal with her, and bring me somewhere to sleep, food, and women. I didn't claw open space itself to starve in some godforsaken village."
Commander Two, a burly man with a battleaxe resting on his shoulder, hesitated before speaking. "General, can you tell us what the aura traces here reveal?"
Drazan tilted his head lazily. "Oh, right. Guess I should do what only mystic-tier aura user can."
He closed his eyes, spreading his arms wide. The air around him began to ripple, and the aura in the entire region moved unnaturally, drawn toward him as if he were a vortex. The faint traces of blessings used in the village the residual energy left behind began to glow faintly, visible even to those without high-tier sensory abilities.
"Hmmm," Drazan muttered, his voice dripping with condescension. "Phoenix Clan blessings, no doubt about it. They're faint but recent. There's also traces of an assassin's blessing… and something else. Faint. Disguised. I can't decipher it."
He chuckled to himself, the sound both amused and dangerous.
Commander Three, a woman with dark eyes and twin swords at her back, stepped forward cautiously. "Did you discover something useful, General?"
Drazan's laugh grew louder, almost manic. "No, no. Not useful." He licked his lips, his golden eyes gleaming. "But I have heard there's some good-looking women in this kingdom. Make sure to bring them to me."
As his laughter echoed through the ruins, Drazan's internal monologue began.
These idiots wouldn't understand even if I told them. There's essence here something unclassified. A creature's presence lingers, something they must've tried to contain or hide. Could it be the Phoenix itself?
If I reveal this, those old bastards back at the empire will force me to open more portals, send me on endless missions. What a waste of my time. I don't need the Phoenix's blessing for a longer life I'm young, strong. They're the ones clinging to scraps of power. I would've taken the empire for myself if not for that damn old bastard at the mythical-tier
Drazan scowled, the memory of his rival stoking his irritation. He glanced at his commanders, his expression hardening.
"Get to work," he snapped. "I'll be resting."
As he strode toward the largest building in the village, his aura rippled outward, suffocating even the legendary-tier soldiers around him.