Beyond the walls of Bastion, the green zone served as the city's lifeline for agriculture. Vast tracts of land were tilled and cultivated; an operation largely run by ascenders with paths suited to agriculture—something that still surprised Moyo. He had initially planned to tour the entirety of Bastion, but with the looming threat of invasion, he had decided instead to test the abilities of the so-called Sentinels led by Josh.
Moyo waited in the middle of the expansive fields, aware of the trickle of spectators forming atop Bastion's walls and along the edges of the farmland. His enhanced vision caught every detail, from the curious farmers pausing their work to the crowds gathering at a distance. He could even sense the presence of Idris, the Lord General, stationed near a hastily constructed earthen bulwark just outside the city walls. The shielded position allowed Idris and other leaders of Bastion to observe without the sun beating down on them.
Moyo frowned slightly, noting the growing audience. He hadn't intended for this to become a public spectacle, but the mention of his involvement had clearly drawn people out in droves. He shrugged—it didn't matter. If the people of Bastion wanted to witness this, then he might as well make it an event.
Turning to face Bastion's towering walls, he raised his voice, his aether amplifying it to carry clearly over the crowd.
"Whoever wishes to prove their right to stand in my presence and join the factions of Bastion's combined army, step forward now. You have a few minutes," he declared, closing his eyes as he maintained his posture, Ida resting lightly in his hand.
The Sentinels arrived first, led by Josh. His silver-threaded robes rippled in the wind, his hammer Gravemaw planted firmly in the ground, its massive head pressing into the soil. Josh's silver eyes, now touched with a faint purple hue, met Moyo's as he bowed slightly at the waist.
"You've grown strong, Josh," Moyo said, observing the Titan Sentinel.
Josh straightened. "I haven't proven myself to you, to Idris, or to the rest. Not yet," he replied evenly, his tone calm despite the weight of the moment.
"And those you call Sentinels," Moyo said, his gaze sweeping over the group behind Josh. "What right do they have to carry that title?" He tilted his head slightly, his tone curious but firm.
"Make no mistake," Moyo continued, "I need no protection. The foes I face would tear through you all in the blink of an eye. I say this not to insult you." He opened his palms in a gesture of placation.
"Not all enemies are worthy of your blade, Lord Titan Blade," a female Sentinel spoke up. Her broad shoulders and well-defined muscles reflected her path. "We exist to prevent such foes from ever reaching your sight."
Moyo regarded her for a moment. "I see. And how did you obtain the class of Sentinel?"
"We wanted to defend Bastion," she replied. "To protect it from the aberrants of the zones and from those who would think to harm you, Lord Titan Blade. In turn, we were given the option."
Moyo nodded, acknowledging her words. "I thank you, and I applaud your choice. But forgive me if I still find the need to test your resolve."
He turned to address the growing crowd, his voice resolute.
"There is no shame if you cannot stand in my presence. I am not the benchmark. Out there in the cosmos are monsters stronger, faster, and more ruthless than I could ever be. They do not see our world as worth invading—yet. But they will send their vassals to loot our spoils. We must show them we are not easy prey. We will crush them and loot them in turn. This, I promise you. All I ask is: will you have the resolve?"
The crowd had swelled into the thousands, all awaiting his test.
"I hope the healers are on standby," he added, a ripple of chuckles spreading through the assembly.
Then his tone turned deadly serious.
"Oh, and no matter what you think you feel, I do not want to kill you, nor crush you. You are simply about to experience what my enemies felt when I came for them. Now prepare yourselves."
With that, Moyo activated Balogun's Domain, his power rippling outward in an invisible wave. More than half of the assembled thousands immediately crashed to their knees, unconscious.
*****
Josh felt like a mountain had been placed on his back. He crashed to one knee, his muscles trembling as if the very air around him had turned to crushing lead. Breathing became a battle, each inhale a desperate struggle against the weight pressing down on him. He shuddered violently, his hammer Gravemaw trembling in his grip.
It felt as though he were staring into the face of death itself. The oppressive force emanating from Moyo—the Titan Blade—was beyond anything he had ever experienced. It wasn't just raw power; it was the embodiment of inevitability, a presence so absolute that the mere thought of resistance evaporated like mist before the sun.
Fighting back? That wasn't even a consideration. All Josh could think of was to endure.
Yes. Endure.
Nothing else could be done in the presence of the Titan Blade. Yet, Josh couldn't help but imagine what it must have felt like for the rest of the gathered ascenders. They had come brimming with confidence, eager to prove their strength to the Titan, believing they had grown enough to stand in his shadow.
If Josh had the strength, he might have laughed at the absurdity. They had no idea what they were up against. But even the thought of laughter felt dangerous—anything beyond sheer focus might break him completely. Instead, he gritted his teeth and did what he had always done in the face of insurmountable odds:
He endured.
He remembered the aberrants that had come for Bastion while the Titan slumbered. Massive, hulking creatures that had somehow slipped past the warlord Idris's axe or evaded Annika's storms. At the gates of Bastion, they had found Josh waiting, Gravemaw swinging with brutal precision. He had endured then, wielding raw strength to crush every threat that dared approach.
Now, that same strength was all he could cling to.
His knuckles whitened as he gripped the shaft of his hammer, planting it firmly into the ground. It became his anchor, a lifeline in the storm of oppressive power radiating from the Titan. Josh bent his head, his entire body trembling under the weight of Moyo's domain.
One second.
One more second.
Just hold on for one more minute.
Josh shut out the noise, the gasps, and groans of the other ascenders collapsing around him. He bent every ounce of his will, every shred of his being, into a singular purpose: endure.
************
Ayo sat upright; her wide eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them.
"Not to sound like a coward," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the oppressive silence that had settled over the battlefield, "but are we all aware that only aura users seem capable of withstanding whatever it is the Titan is doing?"
Her words carried an edge of disbelief, one shared by the others as they watched Idris, their stalwart warlord, on one knee. What had started as a force of nearly a thousand had dwindled to less than five hundred, and even they barely clung to consciousness. Despite the crushing aura, one proud fact stood out: none of the sentinels had fallen. This was in stark contrast to the mages of Ayo's faction and the Storm Riders under Annika's command, many of whom had collapsed under the unbearable weight of the Titan's presence.
Ayo felt a flicker of embarrassment for her mages, but she could hardly blame them. She doubted she herself would last a few minutes under the oppressive force radiating from Moyo. The skies above him were painted a deep, unnatural purple, a swirling manifestation of his overwhelming power. That anyone still stood was a testament to their willpower and training. Even so, the scene was a logistical nightmare; healers, led by an astonished yet eager Samantha, worked tirelessly to drag away those who had fallen to recuperate outside the radius of Moyo's influence.
"The Titan is accomplishing something he shouldn't even be capable of at advocate rank," Martha said, her calm voice cutting through the tension. The Webweaver stood with her unsettlingly serene First Hand, a shadowy figure that seemed to fade into the background no matter where she stood. "That is… impressive."
"You mean the skill he's using?" Annika asked, her storm-gray eyes narrowing as she studied Moyo's distant figure.
Martha nodded. "It's known as a domain. Essentially, those of expert rank and above can use them to manipulate the area around themselves to their advantage. At higher ranks, a domain can even bend reality itself."
"How do you know all that?" Ayo asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Well, my dear Empresses," Martha replied, her tone dripping with mock sweetness, "if only you spent as much time reading the system's guide as you do finding new and deadly techniques, you might find yourselves better enlightened."
Annika rolled her eyes while Ayo huffed indignantly. "I do lead a faction of mages, you know," she said, lifting her chin slightly.
"Indeed, which is why you must understand your powers—and the gem," Martha said, her voice sharp with warning. "We have no idea what debts its use might bring."
Ayo silenced the insistent voice of the gem in her mind, its petulant demand to burn the Webweaver for her insolence echoing in her thoughts like the tantrum of a spoiled child. Martha was right, Ayo knew that. Sometimes, when she tapped into more than her strength and let the gem's power flow through her, she felt connected to an endless wellspring of raw aether and elemental fire. The magnitude of it was staggering, enough to immolate all of Bastion in an instant if she lost control.
Her thoughts strayed to Moyo. Could he withstand her flames? The gem whispered temptations, urging her to show the Titan his place. Ayo hesitated, the memory of pulling Moyo back from what had seemed like the very depths of hell during his battle against the wyvern still fresh in her mind. Perhaps she would ask him—later—if he'd spar with her.
The shifting atmosphere drew her attention back to Moyo. He roused himself, gripping Ida and pulling it from the ground with deliberate strength. Ayo's breath caught as an entirely new wave of power surged from him, rippling through the field and sending shivers down her spine.
Her knees buckled, and she gripped the edge of her seat, her wide eyes filling with tears. This presence—it wasn't the Titan Blade she knew. This was something worse, something far greater. A supreme being radiating wrath and judgment, its gaze burning into her very soul.
Annika sat frozen, her storm-gray eyes uncharacteristically wide, while Martha furrowed her brow in deep thought, her usual composure cracking ever so slightly. Ayo swallowed hard; her throat dry as realization hit her: they weren't even in his sphere of influence.
This was merely the aftershock of the power he wielded.
Whatever those in the field below were experiencing was beyond her comprehension—and she prayed to the Archailect that she'd never feel it directly.
*******
Moyo watched as the sentinels maintained their positions, defying the crushing weight of his domain. Idris stood stoic at the edge of his sight; his upright posture bolstered not just by strength but by the unshakable thought of his role in Bastion. He could not fall, and Moyo was certain he wouldn't. Josh, by contrast, seemed to pour every ounce of his strength into remaining standing, his body trembling under the strain.
Of the thousands who had started, fewer than two hundred remained conscious, struggling against the overwhelming force pressing down on them. Moyo's voice rang out, calm but commanding.
"You can hear me," he said, his words cutting through the oppressive silence. "So I will say this only once. You two hundred have proven your worth to me. But what I am about to do might drive you to the edges of your sanity. There is no shame in quitting now. You are guaranteed positions in the higher echelons of Bastion's forces."
He scanned their faces for any sign of hesitation. None stirred. He chuckled softly to himself.
"Perhaps they can't," he muttered under his breath.
Then, gripping Ida, Moyo drew the blade with deliberate effort. He imagined the group before him as enemies for the briefest moment, and his domain flared violently, doubling in intensity.
They began to drop like flies, their bodies convulsing as the sheer weight of his will crushed them. Dozens collapsed, spasming as the healers rushed forward, pouring vials of restorative liquids down their throats to stabilize them. The healers worked with speed and precision, dragging the fallen away from the frontlines.
Of the two hundred, fewer than fifty remained. The number plummeted further until only thirty-two stood against him, fragile yet unbroken. Shaking, drenched in sweat, and barely conscious, they stood like figures carved from brittle stone.
Something deep within their subconscious seemed to tell them he wouldn't harm them. Their resolve, despite the overwhelming odds, was unwavering.
Moyo nodded to himself, withdrawing his domain entirely. The tension dissipated like air from a burst balloon, and the survivors collapsed in unison, trembling on the ground.
Turning to Josh, Moyo spoke, his tone softer now. "I must applaud your sentinels, Josh."
Josh was on the ground, legs useless beneath him. He strained to rise, his muscles betraying him. "Of the thousands who stood before me, thirty-two endured to the end. Among them, my valiant general Idris and my titan sentinel Josh."
He gestured broadly to the fallen sentinels. "Out of the thirty, twenty have proven themselves. Ten unknown ascenders have also risen in rank. These ten will serve as commanders of the army, reporting directly to Idris as their sole commander."
Without waiting for a reply, Moyo vanished from sight, appearing far from the chaos. Alone by a vast river, he sheathed Ida and sank to the ground, his breath hitching. The weight of the situation crashed down on him.
He had pushed them to their limits, testing their resolve, but witnessing their anguish had not been easy. Yet it was necessary. Strength would not come without hardship.
And somehow, he was responsible for what remained of humanity—or so Zaren had claimed. Somehow, he would lead the resistance against an invasion that loomed on the horizon. And beyond that, the enigmatic trial world awaited, promising its own dangers.
Footsteps rustled behind him, pulling him from his thoughts. He didn't need to look to know who it was. The air carried the faint scent of rain.
"Stormsinger," he murmured.
"Annika to you," she corrected, her voice soft as she sat beside him, staring into the rushing waters.
"You followed me," he said, picking up a stone. He tried to toss it into the river, but it crumbled to dust in his fingers.
"Martha thought you'd be feeling guilty about what happened," Annika replied. "She sent me—the emotional teddy bear—to give you hugs."
Moyo chuckled, the sound faint but genuine.
"I came to see my man," Annika added, her tone playful.
Moyo raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were taking things slow."
"Half the women in Bastion would die to have your babies. The other half want to do unspeakable things to you. Frankly, I might need to take notes."
His face turned crimson. "What? Aren't they afraid of me?"
She shook her head with a sigh. "Martha's right—you really are blind. Let me put it simply: you're larger than life, Moyo. You wield so much power that people can't help but gravitate toward you. Not because they're weak, but because you're... inspiring. Unstoppable."
Moyo blinked, absorbing her words. "And the men?"
"Equal parts terrified and awestruck. They've already noticed improvements, even among those who fell early in your trial. They're drawn to you just as much."
"And you?" he asked softly.
Annika's expression turned serious. "I want you to train me. Personally."
"Train you?"
"Yes," she said firmly.
"Annika, that would mean seeing you as a trainee, not—"
Before he could finish, she straddled him. Lightning crackled in her eyes, and the clouds above darkened. Her voice was fierce, commanding. "I am the Stormsinger. Empress of thunder and, hopefully, beloved of the Titan. You will train me to the best of your abilities."
Moyo grinned, meeting her fiery gaze. "As the empress commands."
The tension broke as Annika laughed, the storm in her eyes fading. But the moment of levity was short-lived.
Moyo's head snapped up, his senses prickling as a shadow materialized nearby. Reality folded in on itself as a figure emerged, bowing low.
"My apologies, Lord and Vice Lady," the messenger intoned, their spider-like frame unnerving yet graceful. "The Webweaver bids me inform you that the aether gate is complete."
Moyo nodded and rose to his feet. Annika stepped aside; her earlier playfulness replaced with focus.
"It's time," Moyo said quietly.
Annika's gaze lingered on him. "To see the Union," she finished.