Urrakar erupted into controlled chaos as the pillar of fire pierced the sky. Alarms blared from the watchtowers—deep horn blasts echoing through the streets, summoning beastkin warriors and civilians alike. Guards rushed to the eastern walls, bows strung and claws extended, while elders barked orders to secure the young and vulnerable. The air grew unnaturally warm, carrying a scent of scorched earth that set fur on end.
Chief Thorian stood atop the ramparts, his panther-kin eyes narrowed at the distant inferno. "Scouts—deploy now. No engagement until we know the source." His tail lashed once, betraying the tension beneath his calm. The council's balance held, but this... this demanded action.
Below, Raygen and Asa pushed through the gathering crowds, their visions from the night before pulling them like invisible threads. The wolf spirit within Raygen stirred restlessly, its enhanced senses picking up the faint, acrid tang of mana disruption miles away. "That's no natural fire," he muttered, absent-minded no more— the dream's clash replaying in his head.
Asa nodded, her hand on a dagger hilt. "Feels like... a call. Or a warning." Her otaku mind flashed to epic anime battles where sealed beasts broke free, but she shoved it down. No time for fantasies; this was real, and her destruction power simmered uneasily, as if echoing the chaos.
They slipped out a side gate with a small beastkin escort—Lira the fox-kin scout from before, and a wolf-kin tracker named Kael. Thorian had reluctantly approved their involvement, citing Raygen's "unique instincts." The group moved swiftly across the savanna, the pillar growing larger, a twisting column of flames that seemed to pulse with life.
As they neared the fire-drained zone, the hum of cicadas returned—louder, more frantic. The grass brittle underfoot, the air thick with drained heat. Raygen's void-shard pulsed faintly in his chest, syncing with the wolf spirit's changes, heightening his awareness. "Something's wrong here. Not just the insects."
They crested a ridge, dropping low to observe. Below, in the heart of the cicada lattice—a vast web of interwoven shells and silk pulsing with absorbed fire mana—the confrontation unfolded.
Three figures stood at the zone's edge, clad in flowing crimson robes embroidered with chain motifs that glowed faintly with qi. They were human, or close to it—tall, with skin like polished jade and eyes sharp as blades. Cultivators from the distant Crimson Chain Sect, hailing from the far eastern continents where sects ruled hidden realms. Their auras radiated power: bodies tempered through rigorous cultivation, muscles forged in qi baths, senses attuned to the world's energies. At the Body Tempering stage, they were far from immortals—no flying swords or soul attacks—but their physical prowess made them walking fortresses, capable of shattering stone with fists and enduring flames that would incinerate mortals.
The elder, a stern man with a shaved head and a chain-whip coiled at his belt, stepped forward. His voice boomed, laced with authority. "Insects! We of the Crimson Chain Sect demand access. The eternal flame stirs—its essence is ripe for harvest. Stand aside, or face the consequences." This was a routine sect mission for him—assigned by the higher-ups to extract phoenix essence for the alchemists back home, refining it into body-tempering elixirs that could push disciples toward breakthroughs.
Flanking him were two disciples: a wiry woman with twin daggers infused with crimson qi, and a burly man whose fists crackled with tempered energy. They carried jade vials and sealed pouches—tools for the harvest, their eyes gleaming with the promise of merit points and rewards upon success. "Elder Huo," the wiry disciple murmured, "the seals hold, but the bugs seem agitated. Shall we proceed as planned?"
Elder Huo nodded curtly. "Follow orders. Extract the essence swiftly—the sect's grand array awaits these drops for the next batch of Flame Tempering Pills."
But the cicadas did not yield. Dozens of foot soldiers clung to their positions, mandibles clicking in unison. Larger elites buzzed overhead, wings humming a defiant drone. At the center, emerging from a burrow-like mound, loomed a lieutenant—a massive cicada variant, shell etched with ancient runes, body the size of a bear-kin. It was one of several guardians under the insect king's command, its crimson-veined eyes glowing with absorbed fire.
The hum intensified, a collective order rippling through the swarm. The king, deep in the underground hive, had decreed: *Deny all. Protect the prisoner. The queen's chains bind us still.* For 100,000 years, the Crimson Chain Sect had held the cicada queen hostage in their distant mountain fortress, her captivity enforced by sealing arrays that drained her life force if the swarm faltered. The cicadas, with lifespans stretching across millennia, had been twisted into unwilling wardens—feeding on the phoenix's leaking fire to reinforce the prison, expanding their zone only to maintain the seals as the ancient bird awoke. Freedom for the phoenix meant death for their queen; betrayal meant the same. They were trapped in eternal vigil.
Elder Huo sneered. "Still defiant? Your queen's screams echo in our halls if you resist." He uncoiled his chain-whip, qi surging through it like liquid fire. "We come for the essence— a few drops for our elixirs. Do not make us take it by force. Disciples—clear the path."
The wiry disciple laughed coldly. "As you command, Elder." She blurred forward, Body Tempering speed turning her into a streak. Her daggers slashed, qi edges slicing through shells with bursts of crimson light. Ichor sprayed, but the cicadas adapted, clustering to absorb the energy, their translucent segments glowing as they fed on the qi-infused strikes.
The burly disciple charged, fists hammering like meteors. "For the sect's glory!" he roared, his body glowing with internal qi circulation, wounds healing almost instantly from the tempering elixirs they'd consumed.
The lieutenant countered, wings beating to create a sonic wave that staggered the cultivators. It lunged, mandibles clamping on the burly disciple's arm, draining fire qi in gulps. The disciple bellowed, qi exploding outward in a tempered burst— a technique called Crimson Chain Fist—that hurled the insect back, cracking its shell.
More lieutenants emerged—three in total, each commanding sections of the swarm. They coordinated with eerie precision, one absorbing qi blasts while another flanked with venomous stings, the third weaving silk barriers infused with drained fire. The cultivators pressed on, their movements a dance of disciplined power: Elder Huo's whip lashing like a serpent, coiling around a lieutenant and squeezing with qi force until runes flared and the shell buckled. "Harvest array—activate!" he commanded, tossing jade tokens that formed a triangular formation pulsing with crimson light, drawing in ambient fire mana toward them—forcing a breach in the prison seals below.
The cicadas frenzied, the king's orders absolute: *Hold. At all costs.* A lieutenant self-destructed in desperation, its body overloading with absorbed qi and exploding in a fireball that engulfed the wiry disciple. She screamed, qi barriers shattering, her tempered skin blistering despite her cultivation. "Elder—it's too much!" she gasped, retreating.
The ground trembled. The array's pull destabilized the underground seals—ancient wards cracking under the strain. Fire mana surged upward, unchecked.
Then—the explosion.
A lieutenant, locked in a grapple with the burly disciple, channeled too much drained qi. The disciple's fist pierced its core, releasing a cataclysmic burst. The blast rippled downward, fracturing a key seal vein. Phoenix energy erupted—a geyser of pure flame shooting skyward, forming the pillar they'd seen from Urrakar. The air ignited, waves of heat scorching the savanna, cicada shells vaporizing in the backlash.
The cultivators staggered back, shielding their eyes. "The essence—it's leaking! Collect it quickly!" Elder Huo shouted, vials glowing as they captured wisps of the fire. "This mission cannot fail—the sect demands results!"
From their hidden vantage, Raygen and Asa watched in horror. The wolf spirit howled inwardly, void-shard throbbing in response to the chaos. "Those people... they're causing this," Raygen whispered, his enhanced senses picking up snippets of dialogue—the queen, the harvest.
Asa gripped her dagger tighter, destruction affinity stirring like a caged beast. "They're too strong. We can't—"
But it was too late. Elder Huo's head snapped toward their ridge, qi-enhanced senses piercing the distance. His eyes locked on them—two outsiders, one radiating faint void essence, the other a whiff of pure destruction.
"Intruders," he growled, a cruel smile forming. "Witnesses... or perhaps useful tools. Disciples—seize them!"
The disciples turned, qi flaring as they advanced.
End of Chapter 23