R-a - Volume 4 - Chapter 46 (Patreon)

R-a - Volume 4 - Chapter 46 (Next Chapter on Mar 14)

In the middle of the Asora Continent lay a vast, grassy field. This plain seemed to go on endlessly, stretching hundreds of miles in the form of enormous swathes of greenery, sporadically inhabited by various Magic Beasts and nomadic Martial Art clans.

At the center of the Central Plain, as it was known, lay an abandoned, hewn stone fortress. This unique fort was crafted from a type of enchanted yellow stone, covered in layers and layers of restrictive magical wards. It was so heavily defended, in fact, that until this very day, its inner secrets had stood unbreached for centuries and centuries more.

This was the Sanctum.

The Sanctum was a mix of a tomb, an Inheritance, and a recording of the entire history of the Ancient World, left behind by the Torens long ago.

Every few years, the Sanctum’s wards would weaken and ‘open up’ allowing entrance to certain parts. However, most locations inside the Sanctum would remain restricted, disallowing access to all beings. Its defenses were extremely powerful, largely due to one reason:

The Sanctum was originally constructed by a Titled Deity.

“The other Great Sects have already come to an agreement with us. Co-existence is our goal.”

Outside of the Sanctum, the Nirvana Saint’s voice echoed aloud as he stood just two dozen meters away from the entrance to the Sanctum, facing off against an army.

“It didn’t have to be this way.”

The Nirvana Saint was dressed in white battle armor, lined with silver markings. In his right hand was a book that was covered in gold leaf and intricate carvings along its back and front. Faint white light glowed out from its pages as the Nirvana Saint spoke.

Standing opposite of the Nirvana Saint was the Sect Master of the Divine Might Sect, Belio Redblade.

“The other Great Sects?” Belio chuckled, his eyes cold. Blood dripped down the Byren Master’s face, staining the portly warrior’s robes red.

In the middle of the Sect Master’s chest lay a slim, gray sword, pierced through his heart.

“Their cowardice means nothing to me.”

All around the duo, a scene of warfare and battle spread out.

Hundreds of Byren Martial Artists were down on the ground, bloodied, bruised, and either dead or dying. Facing off against those Byrens were a massive collective of elite forces.

Baron Fortuna, leader of the Human Alliance, alongside several hundred of the most elite human fighters in his personal guard, had defeated Great Elder Ganfo.

The last remaining Rakkonian Great Wizard, Shahsta, accompanied by a contingent of Rakkonian Berserkers, successfully overwhelmed Great Elder Lorban.

The three Knight Commanders of the Purgatory Church had taken down Great Elder Danor.

And finally…

“She was a strong one, eh? Reminds me of a human I met.” Yvvtal the Destroyer chuckled as he threw Great Elder Cana’s corpse to the side. Wild fluctuations of energy shuddered off Yvvtal’s body as he spoke, his eyes glowing. The Toren had grown used to the new Celestial Silverback Type human body he had possessed, using it to great effect.

“There’s no need to be disrespectful to the dead.” Director Prime murmured as he stepped forward, his tone somber. Prime was dressed in a suit of pure, black armor covered in what appeared to be Dragon scales. He wielded two long, black swords in his hands, each one curving off in a sharp edge at the end.

His green eyes studied the world around him, focusing in particular on Sect Master Belio.

“You speak of peace, yet you lot have attacked us unprovoked.” Sect Master Belio’s voice wheezed out as he staggered to one knee, holding out a massive steel sword in front of him.

A moment later, the gray sword that had pierced Belio’s heart flew out through the air, rippling into the hands of a Farian not far away.

“You can hardly fault us for striking first.” A deep, measured voice shook the air as the Lord Justiciar of the Farians, Gregor Mantorel, stepped forward next to the Nirvana Saint. The powerful Farian was dressed in a simple brown robe and held the slim gray sword he had just caught in his right hand.

“You were planning on attacking all of us in just a few days.” Unlike the other forces here, the Lord Justiciar had come alone.

Shadow Captain Sprel was currently guarding Disciple Apparent Serena, while the other 2 Shadow Captains were guarding the Wise Lady and the other Farians. Gregor had taken seriously the dangers that the Nirvana Saint had conveyed to him.

If the Six Lords were not stopped, the enslavement or death of his people was only a matter of time.

“They have already attacked us.” The Great Wizard Shahsta spat out as she flew forward, landing next to Gregor with a small nod. The Rakkonian had light blue skin that complemented her pale blue eyes, and was dressed in a set of dark blue robes. She held a glowing red scepter in her hand that gave off waves of fiery red energy.

“This war was inevitable.” Baron Fortuna’s voice growled out as lept forth, holding a long, silver rapier in his right hand. The powerful human was covered in sharp, edged blades that jutted from his bones, turning his entire body into a veritable weapon, a trademark of the Hyperion Blade Tiger Transformation Type.

“The Six Lords are tyrants. You should know this best. They have brutalized your people, and are not even truly Byrens. You are not their slaves. Why do you defend them so?” The Nirvana Saint questioned calmly.

“Tyrants?” Belio grinned loosely,

“Perhaps the other Lords. But not my Lord.” The Sect Master shook his head as he coughed, blood spewing from his lips.

In just a single hour, the entire upper elite forces of the Divine Might Sect had been wiped out.

Sect Master Belio of the Divine Might Sect was a Master Class Swordsman, as were the Four Great Elders of the Divine Might Sect. They were an incredibly powerful force to be reckoned with, let alone all the other First Rate Warriors that they had assembled.

However… in the face of an ambush containing the full strength of the Purgatory Church, the Human Alliance, the Farian Lord Justiciar, the Rakkonian Great Wizard Shahsta, Director Prime, and Yvvtal the Destroyer, they simply were no match.

The Divine Might Sect was overwhelmed.

“You may have convinced the other Sect Masters to not interfere, but it doesn’t matter.” Belio’s eyes glossed over as spoke, defying his enemies until his last breath.

“You can’t stop him. None of you can.”

There was a moment of silence as Belio fell backwards, the great steel sword falling from his grasp to the ground.

The Sect Master of the Divine Might Sect was dead.

The Nirvana Saint sighed, his eyes crinkling as he showed the faintest signs of exhaustion.

Gathering such an enormous group of powerful allies, from vastly differing factions, and coordinating a counter-ambush, while negotiating with the Sect Masters of five of the Six Great Sects, was an exhausting ordeal.

“Stay sharp.” Gregor’s voice boomed out as he stepped forward, his gaze piercing towards the Sanctum.

“Our main targets are still-” The Lord Justiciar abruptly cut himself off, drawing to a pause as he saw something he hadn’t expected.

Two figures emerging from the front entrance of the Sanctum.

A large, 2.5 meters tall, muscular golden skinned humanoid, carrying the body of a Byren.

“...Toren.” Yvvtal’s voice dropped to a whisper as he glared at the Toren that had emerged from the Sanctum, his hands starting to tremble.

“...it seems I was a hair too late.” A loud, rumbling voice shook the air as Orion Thunderfist stepped forward, carrying the body of the Fourth Lord, Shadow, over his shoulder.

He had successfully transferred himself into the body of a Toren.

Orion’s new body teemed with energy, not only maintaining his Ki Cultivation, but also revitalizing what had once been a preserved corpse through secret techniques forged by the Dark Wraiths centuries ago.

“Belio.” Orion stared down at the corpse of the Divine Might Sect’s Sect Master with a quiet sigh.

“You did your duty well, and for that, I thank you. Your sacrifice will not be forgotten.”

Slowly, the First Lord raised his gaze to face the Nirvana Saint and the others that faced him, his eyes impassive. He then turned his focus back to the Byren he was carrying.

“Do you see this, Shadow?” Orion muttered as he raised up the body of the Fourth Lord.

“This is what your antics have wrought.”

The Fourth Lord let out a groan, his groggy eyes just now revealing that he was still alive, as Orion dropped him on the ground.

“For 800 years I have left you all alone… and this is what you have to show for it?” The First Lord took a step forward, resting his foot upon the chest of the Fourth Lord.

“Our entire kind were slaughtered, and you fools want to repeat that same tragedy onto others… for what?” Orion’s words were tinged with disgust.

“To bring back the dead?” He shook his head.

“You should know this better than the others, Shadow. Life is for the living. The dead are gone, and that fact cannot be changed.”

The Fourth Lord raise his head, blood dripping from split lips as he breathed out.

“...mer…mercy...”

The First Lord stared down at Shadow, his face visibly twisting with disappointment.

“Only a fool would rely on others for salvation.”

With a sickening thud, Orion crushed Shadow’s chest, killing the Fourth Lord instantly.

Once again, the First Lord sighed, turning his gaze upwards. His shoulders seemed to hunch forward for a moment, like a man bearing an immensely heavy burden.

“Now… I am truly the last of my kind.” Orion chuckled, donning a smile that failed to reach his eyes.

A moment later, he straightened his back, turning his gaze back towards the Nirvana Saint.

He was Orion Thunderfist.

The World’s Strongest.

No matter the enemy, no matter the challenge, no matter the odds… he would never shy away.

Never again.

A tense moment passed as everyone present stared at the First Lord, energy waves starting to rock the air as people prepared for battle.

And then…

“Hmm..? What’s this..?”

Something that should not have happened took place.

A floating blue screen appeared in front of Orion.

“...a Title?”

.