Ashborn Primordial

Chapter Ashborn 317: To Baira

Shan awoke soon after, looking no worse for the wear. He loped around, the same as ever, and were it not for the shaved fur, Vir wouldn’t even have known the wolf bore a tattoo.

“I imagine that’ll grow back rather quickly, thanks to all that prana he stores within him,” Cirayus commented as they headed back to Samar Patag.

Since Aida lacked the movement arts the rest of them possessed, she sat on top of her grandfather’s shoulders, one leg straddled on either side of his head like a child.

Except, while most children were a fraction of their parents’ size, Aida was quite a bit bigger, making the whole scene incredibly comical and somewhat surreal. The sight was made even more ridiculous by Cirayus’ effortless bounding leaps, as if Aida weighed all of nothing. Which, thanks to Balancer of Scales, she didn’t.

If Vir wasn’t mistaken, the giantess was at least four times his own weight—though he dared not utter that in her presence. There was something utterly terrifying about her when she became angry.

Vir had to wonder if it ran in the family, and whether Cirayus ever became that way. The warrior was terrifying in combat as it was. Vir wasn’t sure he wanted to imagine what an angry Cirayus looked like. That, and Sikandar, were likely the reasons behind his ‘Ravager’ moniker.

They made good time, and despite Vir keeping a close watch on Shan’s prana, he found nothing amiss.

It wasn’t the black gates of Camar Gadin that stopped the group, but rather a group of Ash Beasts. And they were diving straight for a convoy off in the distance.

“Shrikes!” Aida called out in panic. “Take cover!”

More Ash Beasts, and they’re delving deeper into the realm now, Vir thought as he High Jumped without hesitation. Taking cover was just about the last thought on his mind. Shrikes were exceedingly dangerous opponents, even outside the Ashen Realm. Most demons didn’t stand a chance against them.

Vir intercepted the leader of the flight of six midair, slicing off its neck. Grabbing onto the falling corpse, Vir swung legs over, and kicked off, bounding for the next dive-bombing beast.

He was joined by Cirayus, who cleaved a Shrike in two with a single strike of Sikandar.

Vir cut through the second Shrike without pausing, pitting his upward momentum against the downward momentum of the diving birds to reave through two more before he finally lost his speed.

As he fell back to the ground, Vir watched Cirayus clean up the remaining Shrike. Body parts crashed into the ground like rain, forcing Aida to dodge using Giant Grace. Those she couldn’t, she bashed away, leveraging Giant Hide.

The force of those impacts would have given Vir a tough time without his prana strengthening him. That Aida shrugged them off spoke volumes about the strength of Bairan bloodline tattoos.

Wouldn’t mind having more than a few demons in my army… Vir thought. Though, unless he convinced Baira to openly support his rebellion, the chances of that seemed quite slim.

“Aida, lass!” Cirayus thundered. “Since when have you looked upon my impressive feats with such awe?”

“I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked,” Aida grumbled, ignoring her grandfather. “He’s the Akh Nara, after all. Just…”

“Didn’t expect him to match me. Did you?”

“Hard to imagine anyone managing that feat. Will you really be alright in this tournament?”

Cirayus cracked a broad grin. “Well now, we’ll just have to see about that. Won’t we?”

He turned to Vir as he said those words, and Vir met his gaze. Yes, he might be barred from using his most powerful abilities, but Vir had every intention of winning, regardless. He needed that tattoo.

“Well, well. And I was wondering who stole our kills. If it isn’t the Ravager himself!” a raspy voice called out.

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The convoy of demons and their wagons from earlier had closed the distance, and a gangly ghael ambled up to Cirayus.

The Iksana sported a long, diagonal scar on his face that ran across his left eye, across his nose, and to the side of his lip. The demon wore only the barest of clothing, exposing his scrawny body.

A body that was absolutely covered in purple Iksana tattoos.

Vir instinctively felt for Aida’s new tattoo. He’d kept it cycling the entire time, but it hadn’t yet become a subconscious habit.

Topping up the prana, Vir hoped the tattoo would do its job.

He thought of backing away—Prana Vision fared poorly at range, after all—but decided against it. If the tattoo failed here, he’d have no chance during the tournament. He simply had to trust in Aida’s work.

The ghael cast a cursory glance at Aida and Vir, but returned his gaze to Cirayus.

“Granddaughter? And your pack boy? What? Finally tire of hauling everything?” the ghael said, mistaking Vir for nothing more than a steward.

Shan had disappeared, as he tended to around others. Vir was thankful for the Ash Beast’s tact. His presence would only have attracted unnecessary attention from the Iksana.

“Nor,” Cirayus said with a slight nod. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here. Enjoy winning in my absence? I’m afraid you’ll have to take second this time. Perhaps even third.”

“Ha!” The ghael—Nor—barked, hacking up a ball of spit.

“Thought you were dead, Ravager. You disappear in the war. Gone for nigh under two decades. And here ya are. Good as ever. Where were you?”

“Where else? In the Ash, of course,” Cirayus said, waving his two right hands dismissively. “Training. You’ve a difficult time ahead if you think I’m the same as I was back then.”

Nor snorted. “Suppose we’ll see. You’re fighting the champion now. Take care, Cirayus.”

“And you,” Cirayus replied, watching the ghael skulk off. He waved to his caravan, and they trundled away.

“Zarak’Nor,” Cirayus said once their guest had left. “Insufferable, as most Iksana are. Decent enough warrior, though.”

“That’s pretty high praise for you to acknowledge someone.”

“Almost losing will do that,” Aida said. “Though only because he’s such a coward.”

“Aye, the Iksana do not fight like most warriors. Something the lad is most familiar with, I think.”

Vir nodded. “They use the shadows, attacking from where they can’t be hit. With Dance of the Shadow Demon, it makes little sense to fight any other way.”

It was truly a nasty way to fight. So long as there were strong shadows—and Vir suspected the tattoo helped immensely, even when there weren’t—Iksana warriors had an immense advantage. The ability to freeze time and strike from anywhere with both prana and chakra made for an absolutely devastating combination.

“They oughta stick to their caves, if you ask me,” Aida said. “Never participate in trade or anything else, but you find them here, at the competition. Every single time.”

“Well, what’s a tournament without a bit of a challenge, eh?” Cirayus said jovially. “Now, come. Let me show you my glorious city.”

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The first thing Vir noticed about Camar Gadin wasn’t the city itself, but rather its location. Yes, they’d traveled away from the Ash Boundary, but not by nearly as much as Vir would have expected. In fact, it was likely only a few tens of miles from where the Chitran Garrisons sat.

Just enough to escape the Ashen rain, and for the ever-setting sun to assert itself. Even so, there was a fog about the city, owing to its proximity to the Boundary.

“Do you get many Ash Beasts here?” Vir asked, wondering about the safety of the walls.

“Well, of course,” Cirayus replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Why else would my clan have founded their capital stronghold so close to the Ash?”

“Er… I mean no disrespect,” Vir said. “But are your people not right in the head, by any chance?”

Cirayus bellowed in laughter, prompting Aida, who rode on his shoulders, to smack him in annoyance.

“Building the city this close to the Ash serves three purposes,” he said, not even stammering when Aida’s blow connected. “Firstly, it makes it easy to patrol the Ash if the bulk of our population resides this close.”

“I suppose that makes some kind of sense,” Vir said. “Though not without cost.”

“That cost is the second reason. It reminds us of what’s out there. Of the true threat.”

“The threat of Ash Beasts?”

“Nay. Complacency. Extended periods of peace make people soft. While Bairans never wish to attack their fellow demons, testing our mettle against Ash Beasts keeps our bodies healthy and our minds tempered.”

It was a brutal, militaristic way of life, but it was also the demon way. Vir had heard from Cirayus that far more demons were capable fighters compared to humans. It was cultures like this that fostered it. The Panav were the exception to the rule—many demons fought, or at least knew how to fight. This was especially true of the clan of giants.

“And the third reason?” Vir asked.

“To allow us to appreciate what we have in life,” Cirayus said. “There is no greater way to inject perspective into one’s life than an ever-present danger. It is for this reason that Bairan society has less crime, less poverty, less malcontent than most any other clan, excepting perhaps only the Panav.”

Vir supposed there was some truth to that. There was no rallying force quite as effective as a powerful enemy. Even in the Human Realm, enemies had banded together to deal with a greater threat. In their case, it was usually the Kin’jal Empire, seeking to expand.

Vir couldn’t fathom the mindset of a people who’d willingly risk their lives for that goal, however. The Bairans were a hardy people. He braced himself for difficult fights, should he ever be paired with one. Their bloodline arts may not be as complex or as fancy as the other clans’, but their tough bodies, enhancing arts, coupled with their ironclad minds… Those made for a terrifying combination.

It was similar to fighting Ash Beasts. Except Ash Beasts that had intelligent minds and could use tactics and wield weapons.

Their group came to a stop before the black wooden gates, which stood easily thirty paces tall, flanked by walls just as high.

“Welcome to Camar Gadin,” Cirayus said, flourishing his arms. “Welcome to my home.”

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