Ashborn Primordial

Chapter 303: Sown Seeds & Minor Breakthroughs

 

It’d been only a day since Cirayus arrived at the Chitran’s southernmost garrison, and he’d already witnessed all that he needed to. This one was no different than the rest, forcing Cirayus to accept that he’d been a fool for hoping otherwise.

The garrison itself was serviceable, as all garrisons near the Ash Boundary had to be. If they weren’t, they’d have fallen long ago. The discipline and capabilities of the troops, while somewhat lacking in Cirayus’ view, were sufficient for the task at hand. No, the issue lay with the free prisoner labor they exploited.

At every garrison, the poor Gargan Warriors slept outside in open ditches, exposed to elements and Ash Beasts alike, and treated little better than livestock. They received no training, save for those lessons they learned in the forge of lethal combat, and survived with neither luxury nor hope.

Many died, while those who lived hardly had a life at all. Even rotting away in a dungeon was preferable to this abhorrent treatment.

Especially when it was only the Gargans who suffered so.

Had Cirayus been a couple of centuries younger, he’d have lashed out, perhaps slaying those responsible in a heat of rage.

Time, however, had tempered those emotions. The best shot they had lay with Vir and the rebellion. Lashing out here would only worsen the lives of those most affected—a lesson Cirayus had learned the hard way long ago.

Even so, while most of the prisoners had the fight beaten out of them, Cirayus spied a few who’d kept the spark alive. He’d begun compiling a list of those prospects—their names, and their abilities. When the time finally came, these would be the ones to spur the rest to revolt, serving as the initial spark.

Much groundwork needed to be laid before then, of course. That would be up to the lad and his forces—there was only so much Cirayus could do given his fame.

It shackled him in a way these prisoners could never understand. In many ways, it was far worse. Too many eyes restricted his freedom, preventing him from sneaking away to do anything truly meaningful. His large frame didn’t do him any favors, either. Cirayus had long ago accepted that stealth would forever be a lost cause for him.

And yet, one did not live four centuries without picking up a few tricks along the way.

“Truly, we are grateful to have you here,” his assigned Chitran liaison repeated. The kothi followed him around everywhere, ready to serve at a moment’s notice. It was quite honestly infuriating. “Admittedly, we lack the resources for such rigorous inspection.”

Cirayus waved away the demon’s concerns. “I understand completely. Out here at the Boundary, you have your hands full keeping those foul beasts at bay. I’ve seen it time and again. The wood rots, inspections are skipped and regular maintenance schedules go unobserved. To tell you the truth? You are right to do so. The defense of the realm takes precedence. I am simply doing what I can where I can.”

Balancer of Scales activated, and the tall palisade trunk shivered slightly.

Cirayus hadn’t lied—he was inspecting them. Just that he wasn’t looking to call out any weaknesses he found, but rather to note them down as potential entry points for an eventual invasion.

The kothis were none the wiser, of course. Even when Cirayus jostled some logs a bit too enthusiastically, further weakening their foundations, they suspected nothing. It was common knowledge that gates were the weakest link in a wall, but the prisoners wouldn’t have that option. They lacked both battering rams and the equipment that would keep them safe from archers and magic while storming the garrison.

With the right preparations, however, they might stand a chance. It’d be bloody, of course, and there would be casualties, but they’d have a chance.

After wrapping up his inspection, he approached the garrison commander.

“Leaving already?” the kothi said, crestfallen. “I’d been hoping we could count on your help against Ash Beast attacks in the coming days. Give our troops a chance to rest.”

“I’d have liked nothing else, but alas, duty calls. I must now journey to Garrison Atnu, for I fear they require my aid more than you. If the beasts are in such force this far south, they’ll be under immense pressure over there. I fear the worst.”

“Of course,” the commander said. “May Vera smile upon you during your travels.”

“And you as well,” Cirayus replied, clasping the kothi’s arm. The temptation to break the filthy monkey’s limb crossed his mind, but he reminded himself that now was not the time. Cirayus was more than capable of patience when the need called for it. He’d have the chance to skewer this monkey’s head another day.

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It galled him to cooperate with the people who’d slaughtered his friends and family. Like a taint upon his soul that could not be scrubbed off nor healed by any Chakra.

Bidding the garrison commander farewell, Cirayus bounded away, happy to be rid of that foul place.

If only that were the extent of his problems, he’d have thanked Adinat for his boundless mercy. As it was, however, he couldn’t help but worry.

Something foul was brewing in the Ash. Never before had the Demon Realm dealt with this many Ash Beasts. At least, not in recorded history—which was saying something, given that those records dated back millennia.

Events were moving beyond Cirayus’ sight, and he didn’t like that at all. He had to regroup with Vir and devise a plan forward. He feared that without fully understanding this unseen threat, their rebellion would be in grave jeopardy. They simply couldn’t afford to deal with an Ash Beast outbreak until the rebellion had solidified its control over the Chitran nation.

Besides, there was another reason to return to the lad, apart from ensuring his safety. While Maiya had been an angel humoring him, her worry was clear. She was going through no small and tribulation of her own, and Cirayus felt the wrong person to comfort her.

Cirayus could help but smile when he thought of the pair. The Akh Nara with a human village girl? Never in his long life would he even dream of such a match. Let alone cheer for it.

And yet, that was precisely what he wanted.

Him! A proud demon of clans Baira and Garga. Cheering for a human! Even despite the terrible trials and eventual sadness that awaited them both. Despite the tragedy of demonic longevity.

Their future would be fraught with peril, and yet, Cirayus would not have it any other way. He’d watch over them, protecting them and guiding them—but not without allowing them to stumble and learn on their own. Some lessons were best learned firsthand.after all.

It was with these warm thoughts that Cirayus arrived at Garrison Atnu almost a half-day later, having bounded his way across the country, dealing with Ash Beasts as and when he found them.

Well before he’d arrived at its gates, he knew something was amiss. The encampment of prisoners that surrounded each garrison was misshapen. A circle with a missing slice.

As he neared, he discovered the slice was the one the lad had been a part of.

A sick feeling formed in his stomach.

Bypassing the gates, Cirayus landed within the Garrison itself, causing no small amount of commotion.

“You! Where are the missing prisoners?” he asked a local trainer. “Have they been deployed to the Ash?”

The stricken kothis scampered away and Cirayus was about to ask another when someone came running up to him.

“Ravager! ‘Tis good you are here. The prisoners. They committed suicide.”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Chitran!” Cirayus roared, causing the kothi to shirk back.

“I-It’s true, Lord Ravager! They rebelled… They fled to the Ash!”

The color drained from Cirayus’ face. Things weren’t about to go wrong. They already had. Horribly so.

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With closed eyes, Vir focused on the Life Chakra. Its feel—its meaning. Chakras, though metaphysical, seemed to occupy their own place within his body. For example, the Foundation Chakra sat at the very base of his spine, while the Life Chakra was just above it.

Concentrating on his memories of Shardul the Vicious, Vir cracked it open. Not fully—just as much as he could manage. Which was, admittedly, not very much at all.

The feeling reminded him of wading through water. When fully mastered, opening the Chakra offered no resistance at all. Right now, however, it was all he could do to nudge it even slightly.

It seemed to be enough. When Vir opened his eyes, he found a new presence. A gray demon stood before him. Clad in black steel plate and chainmail, with wavy black hair that fell to his shoulders, he cut an imposing figure. Shardul, of Garga. Shardul the Vicious.

Vir’s predecessor felt like an odd choice for mastering the Life Chakra—Parai the Ancient or Jalendra the Wise might’ve been a better fit, but try as Vir might, he’d been unable to. It seemed like he’d have to march back through time, predecessor by predecessor, regardless of whether they were the best option.

Vir rose, finding Shardul staring at his armored fist.

“So. I am dead, then. This is a memory conjured within your mindscape?”

“That’s… correct. You seem to be taking this rather well,” Vir commented. “Ekanai took a whole fight to convince.”

“Ekanai…” Shardul said, glancing at the ghael who stood hunched over some paces away. “I take it you are a successor, then?”

“Shardul,” Ekanai said with a slight nod.

“Odd for an Iksana Ghael to be selected as Akh Nara. Then you must be the current incarnation,” Shardul said, turning toward Vir. “Exceedingly young, I must say.”

Vir’s face fell a bit. “You… don’t remember me. Do you?”

Shardul cocked his head slightly. “Would I have occasion to?”

“No. I suppose not,” Vir replied. “You saved my life, though. Taught me Dance of the Shadow Demon.”

“I did?” Ekanai asked with a raised brow. “Surprising.”

“Well, maybe taught is an exaggeration. You took over my body and used it to get me out of danger. I… kinda took it apart and learned it on my own.”

This time, Shardul’s surprise was obvious. “Impressive. I’d not thought such a feat possible. Especially not without the bloodline tattoo. Odd that I have no recollection of this.”

Vir bit his lip, thinking of what happened at Mahādi. “Yeah, well. Things happened.”

“So? Why have you summoned me?”

“The boy struggles with the Life Chakra,” Ekanai rasped. “Despite endless duels, the Chakra eludes him.”

Shardul snorted. “Of course it would. What in the realms made you think you could open the Life Chakra by fighting?”

Vir and Ekanai could only respond in silence.

Now that I think about it… He’s right, Vir thought, scratching the back of his neck with embarrassment.

“This was your idea, wasn’t it?” Shardul asked Ekanai. “Let me guess. You single-mindedly focused on combat strength?”

“Strength is power,” Ekanai replied.

“And yet, the boy’s existence means you died. Didn’t you? I can only wonder why.”

Ekanai growled, and Vir wondered if he’d have to break up a fight. A fight! In the middle of his head, no less!

Maybe I really am going mad…

“Quite frankly, I am amazed you managed to get even this far with such a crude approach,” Shardul said, returning his gaze to Vir.

“Crude?” Ekanai said, clenching his fists.

Shardul ignored the demon, continuing to address Vir. “Come. Walk with me. And perhaps together, we can start you upon the path to opening your Life Chakra.”

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