Records of Immortality-Volume 1—Chapter 32: The Vestige Hunter
Ashan took out a small orb and placed it in the dim light of his hideout. The object was the size of a child's fist, swirling with dark-green wisps.
'A vestige... specifically, from the Sharir Marga.'
He observed it for a long moment, watching its dim, dark-greenish glow. "I took this from a Bodhir-ranked Ganshka. I was only able to secure one."
He contemplated his options. "Should I absorb it? Instructor Faala did describe the process... But I'm from the Samyama Marga. Wouldn't a surge in my
prana
imbalance my
atmic
energy?"
He put the orb away. "I'll need to find a Ganshka from the Atma Marga instead."
***
A group of Ganshka trudged along, carrying the corpses of wild animals. Their small tribe was a cluster of crude huts made from mud and leaves, with younger members tinkering with wooden weapons. The atmosphere was deceptively peaceful, marred only by the constant
gnash-gansh
sounds from their hideous mouths.
'A small tribe,'
Ashan noted from behind a canopy of trees.
'I've noticed a different Ganshka tribe in the past few days.'
He crouched, making himself small. His golden-rimmed hazel eyes transformed into grayish-white whirlpools.
He disappeared, as if erased from the world. [Conceal]
He had only ten seconds.
He ran straight for the heart of the tribe.
Eight seconds... seven...
'Only seven seconds left.'
Ashan entered the tribe's perimeter, his grayish-white eyes scanning for targets. He didn't notice a Ganshka fledgling running until it collided with his left leg.
Gaak!
The child fell to the ground.
'Shit!'
Ashan hurriedly changed course.
Five seconds.
'Where are you? Where—'
His eyes landed on an old Ganshka holding a staff, deep in meditation.
'Found it.'
Ashan moved stealthily toward him. The old Ganshka's ears twitched.
'Not so fast!'
[Elemental Bolt]
A dark-brown bolt shot from Ashan's hand. The old Ganshka stood and waved his staff, summoning a greenish membrane of energy that blocked the attack.
Gansh! Gansh!
His cries rang out, alerting the tribe.
Ashan didn't lose composure. He charged forward, strengthening his legs with
prana
. His sword swung in a clean arc, aiming to sever the old Ganshka's arm. The staff blocked it again.
Gansh! Gansh!
The old one smiled crookedly, revealing pale yellow teeth as other tribesmen converged with their crude weapons.
Ashan kept his mind calm.
'Plans are not always perfectly executed.'
He muttered in Asurain, and his skin transformed, covered in tough snake scales. [Totem Beast Transformation]
Two arrows thudded into him, only to be shrugged off harmlessly. The old Ganshka's eyes widened; he began muttering in an unknown tongue. In that moment, all his weak points were laid bare before Ashan's eyes.
Ashan delivered a swift, clean vertical strike, severing the arm that held the staff. Dark-greenish blood gushed out.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Gansh! Gansh!
The elder cried in pain as his kin swarmed Ashan.
Ashan rolled sideways. Both he and the old Ganshka muttered simultaneously. A dark-brown bolt and a dark-green one collided mid-air. The volley of arrows intensified. Ashan sidestepped, but one arrow shot past his head.
During the chaos, non-combatants—women and children—fled for their huts. One child stumbled and fell.
'Isn't that the little shit who collided with me?'
Ashan glanced at the child, then at the ten Ganshka encircling him and the five archers behind them. The old Ganshka's eyes were bloodshot as he chanted.
'Let's test it.'
Ashan darted to the stumbling child and grabbed him by the neck. The child squeaked, and Ashan punched him in the gut.
[Foresee]
His vision fast-forwarded, showing him the next five seconds. He saw all the Ganshka freeze, their attacks ceasing as they fixed him with cold, killing stares.
He canceled the ability. His vision returned to the present.
Just as foreseen, they stopped attacking, horrified at their kin being used as a hostage.
"Human... leave child alone," the old Ganshka grunted, his accent thick and weird. "Our fight. Fight us."
'He knows a little of the human language.'
"Now you're making me the villain here," Ashan said with a dark smile.
One of the Ganshka shifted forward.
"No! No!" Ashan pressed his sword lightly against the child's neck.
The old Ganshka stopped the warrior with a sharp command.
"Ah, well, you're right," Ashan said. "Children shouldn't be brought into a fight."
He threw the child high into the air.
The Ganshka were thrown into panic, their eyes fixed on the tumbling body, scrambling to position themselves to catch it.
The old Ganshka looked up, then back to where Ashan had been—but he was gone.
He tried to shout an order, but his voice failed. Only a dark-green bolt erupted from his mouth. Ashan had suddenly appeared beside him, his sword piercing a vital point.
"But I am also a child," Ashan spoke calmly, "in this world."
The old Ganshka fell as Ashan withdrew his blade. The others were still desperately trying to catch the child, who was now just meters from the ground.
Gansh! Gansh!
The cries were frantic.
As they gathered beneath the falling child, a dark-brown bolt shot through the air, striking the fledgling square in the head. It burst like an overinflated balloon, blood and matter gushing out.
The Ganshka stared in a daze, then turned to look behind them.
Ashan waved, already plucking the vestige from the old Ganshka's body. It was a dark-green orb, the size of a child's fist, pulsing with
atmic urja
.
Gansh! Gansh! Gansh!
Their cries became frenzied screams of rage and loss.
"Until next time!" Ashan's presence and body vanished.
***
Back in his hidden cave, Ashan placed both vestige orbs before him.
"Let's do it, then." He emptied his mind of unnecessary thoughts and crushed both orbs at once.
Crack! Kach!
Twin energies assaulted his body, invading his channels.
'Too strong. Both are from Bodhir-rank Ganshka, not even at the awakened stage.'
He hurriedly entered a meditative state, wrestling control over the raging energies as his
vidyas
had taught him. His expression turned grim as the foreign powers clashed within him. He took long, calming breaths, absorbing the energies while meticulously maintaining his synchronization and harmonization time ratio.
The energies swirled around his root chakra, clashing violently. A small blast of tremors shook his body, shocking him for a moment. The internal conflict lasted for what felt like an age.
Finally, a turbid breath escaped his lips. "That was quite an experience."
He observed his body, feeling a slight but definite rise in his power. "This last trial is a good opportunity to grow stronger."
Ashan once again entered the Sadhana state.
'No need to rush. First, I must consolidate my strength.'
***
Southern Forest
"Did you find more human children?" a deep voice growled from within a large hut.
Lash kept his head low. "Cloe has been ordered to bring more."
The deep voice erupted into an angry roar, shaking the hut. "Bring them. Fast!"
"Yes, Chief!" Lash bowed deeply and took his leave.
***
Cloe ran through the deep forest, tall trees blurring past in the night. Her thoughts were a storm of conflict.
'I don't know. Is this the right thing to do?'
She stopped in her tracks, senses flaring. "Show yourselves!"
Figures dropped from the branches around her, their tails lashing behind them.
"Why do you surround me?" she demanded, her voice sharp with anger.
One of them stepped forward. "Your people are kidnapping human children—an act our chief did not approve. Give them to us so we can be free from this place. Your chief isn't killing them, and that hinders our freedom."
Cloe's eyes widened.
'Freedom? Is this what freedom looks like?'
"You can't meddle in the affairs of my father—" her voice cracked slightly, "—in the affairs of
our
chief."
Woo! Woo!
The surrounding figures let out low growls, their eyes shining with a dangerous glint.
***
"Helma, do you think we could tame them?" Ballio asked, staring at the clear night sky.
"Tame who?" Helma replied, checking her arrow supply. They were hiding under a large rock, their expressions still haggard.
"Who else? The Manuga race people!" His voice was tinged with excitement.
"For what? You want a cute pet?" she asked, a hint of humor in her tone.
"No! I mean... that's not the main point... But—"
Woo! Woo!
The cries of wolves and dogs echoed under the clear sky.
Both their faces darkened.
Ballio cursed under his breath. "Fuck! What now!"
Volume 1—Chapter 32: The Vestige Hunter
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