[MA] 388. Desire for Violence (Patreon)

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The first thing Pagarti noticed about the newcomer was his glassy eyes. They were white, like his long hair, and contrasted beautifully with his dark bluish skin. Yet, they weren't entirely present. They lacked life like someone recently turned into a vampire: someone with an identity crisis who, thus, couldn't center themselves and their Path into their new existence. The dark elf—at least, Pargarti thought that was a dark elf; he had never seen one—was no vampire, but he was not fully there either.

Technically, he could be a vampire; an unknown technique shrouded his path. But his body felt fully alive to Pagarti's senses and, more importantly, the city's sensors. If a vampire could fool them, they would be considerably less overt about their approach. The city would be theirs in a matter of months.

The sensors couldn't see the dark elf's Path or soul, but they could detect his qi—thus, his power—and some minute traces that determined he was a Dominator at the Law Refining Realm. Up close, Pagarti could feel the signs of a Dominator.

The dark elf didn't just float on the skies. He demanded the surrounding world bow to him by his mere presence. Even with his domain kept to his body, he felt different from the average Law Refining cultivator—at least to those who knew what to look for, and any Defender in Talon City did.

A Dominator meant a risk to their Lord and, thus, danger to them all.

"Esteemed One," the unit leader said respectfully, cupping his hands before himself and bowing his head slightly to the dark elf. "I'm Univari, Vice-Captain of Talon City's Defenders. Our Lord has invited you to his residence for a meeting."

The dark elf looked confused, then asked, using Stangue, "Do you speak this language?"

Hearing Stangue made everyone in the unit alarmed. They pulsated their qi in a specific pattern to warn those on the ground that an Outsider was upon them.

Usually, it was anyone's guess what a visitor from the Alliance would bring, but the stories about them doing evil were considerably more numerous than any tales of good. Talon City had it even worse. Only a few years ago, their own Lord almost died at an Outsider's hands. They had triumphed in the end, but not unscathed. They had yet to find a way to remove the previous Outsider's Path from their body, thus preventing them from regrowing their lost arm. To this date, they were expecting retaliation from the fallen Outsider's friends.

"We do speak it, Esteemed One," Univari said. "Did you recently arrive from the Alliance?"

The elf's eyes lost all shine when the Alliance was mentioned. It almost looked like he had died for a moment. Light returned to his eyes as soon as Univari ceased saying "Alliance."

Pagarti wasn't the only one to notice the signs of mind control, and it almost sent him into a panic. The likelihood of this dark elf being a slave sent to test the waters against their Lord before someone acted increased by the second. Who knew who the Outsider who had died years ago knew in the Alliance? Who knew whether they would seek revenge?

"Maybe," the dark elf replied. "I lost most of my memories. I'm looking to figure out my Will." His honesty was impressive. Most would lie one way or another.

Univari didn't comment on it. "I see. I'm Univari, Vice-Captain of Talon City's Defenders," he repeated, this time in Stangue. "Our Lord has invited you to his residence for a meeting."

"Can your Lord help me figure out my Will?"

"I'm but a D-rank, Esteemed One," Univari replied, using the ugly Alliance classification. "I wouldn't assume the means of C-ranks."

"I'd like you to assume," the dark elf insisted.

His insistence was soft-spoken. He didn't move threateningly or even hint at the price of refusing him. Yet, the world moved. Dominators rarely cared to rein in their influence over their surroundings. Still, the world was theirs to command, and intense emotions blended from their Path into the surroundings and could be analyzed if one knew what to look for.

The dark elf's emotions were filled with one thing only: the desire for violence.

Pagarti resisted the instinct to unsheath his sword. He knew it would do him no good against a Law Refining cultivator, but the naked blade would comfort him. More than just firmly gripping the handle, at least, as he was already doing.

Most of the others also controlled themselves, but Alivini didn't. He was the youngest in the unit and had likely never felt such bloodlust—not in the form of the world itself whispering it to him through the technique that could read a Dominator's influence over their surroundings. It was... unique. Direct. Raw.

The boy panicked, unsheathed his sword, and for a moment, Pagarti thought he would pay for it.

The dark elf stared at Alivini, yet Pagarti could feel a terrifying Will paying close attention to him and likely everyone in the unit—maybe the city. Pagarti felt naked under the Dominator's scrutiny. Until now, the dark elf had looked at but clearly dismissed them as unthreatening. Now, he stared into their very souls to determine how dangerous they were to his safety.

Recognition, surprise, and derision filled the dark elf's eyes for a single moment. Then, everything was gone. His eyes became glossy again.

He looked away from Alivini, deciding the boy wasn't worth his time. Relief flooded through the boy, who could no longer hold his bowels, and an acrid odor filled the air.

"I accept your Lord's invitation," the dark elf said. "Lead the way."

"Yes, Esteemed One," Vice-Captain Univari replied.

"Not you," the dark elf said, then pointed at Prgarti. "The C-rank."

Prgarti frowned for a moment, and then, he was no more. Locked memories and power surfaced. His false arm disappeared.

"Few can see through my guise," Lord Pagarti declared as his subjects' eyes widened in surprise and his backs bent in a bow.

The dark elf raised an eye at the bowing people. "Are you the Lord?"

Pagarti didn't hide his displeasure at the way the Outsider spoke. He didn't like the idea of facing another Outsider—his shoulder still hurt where the alien Path had gone through to infect his entire body—but he wouldn't be looked down upon in his own city.

"I am," he said proudly.

"I want to fight strong people." He stared at Pagarti's missing limb. "Do you think you'd become stronger with your arm?"

Pagarti became positively upset. A missing limb was humiliating enough, but outright talking about it before him was a great offense!

Yet, before he could say anything, the dark elf said, "I guess there's no harm in trying."

Then, he released his aura—he was an Aura Master, too! A moment later, the alien Path in Pagarti's body was crushed into nothingness.

Pagarti's mind took a long time to accept what had just happened. Even as his arm instinctively started regrowing and his people gasped, he could only stare dumbfounded at the dark elf.

The elf hadn't even used his domain! How could a mere aura solve what Pagarti's domain couldn't?

When the implications of the circumstances fully downed on Pagarti, he cupped his hands before himself posthaste and bowed deeply to the most skilled Law Refining cultivator he had ever met. Pagarti was also a Law Refining cultivator, probably stronger than the dark elf, but skill spoke louder than power in the Myriad Worlds. Power was mostly a matter of time, but skill meant future prospects. Unlike in the Alliance, where death was everywhere, the Myriad Worlds were considerably safer. A skilled youngling was a future powerhouse.

If Pagarti felt threatened, he would kill the dark elf without thinking twice, but it was better to cultivate a powerful ally rather than kill for insecurity. The Gardener only demanded no inter-city politics in the Myriad Worlds, but the Gardener Sect had a few extra principles they enforced. Getting rid of talents to maintain status quo would attract their attention. One didn't do that unless they needed to.

Lastly, he was genuinely grateful for being healed. Years infected by an alien Path, dealing with a pain that couldn't be muted, had made him grumpy and paranoid. Pretending to be a D-rank to avoid assassination attempts was pathetic. Yet, there he was.

"Thank you for your help, Esteemed Visitor," Pagarti said.

"Thank me with a fight," the dark elf replied.

His desire for violence hadn't disappeared, but the current Pagarti, with unblocked memories and power, could tell it was a more general desire than the will to attack the city or its Defenders. The elf just wanted to fight strong opponents.

The dark elf continued, "How long until you heal?"

That question would reveal how long Pagarti would remain weak. It was a vulnerability. Yet, he replied sincerely because the dark elf evidently had no desire to exploit the information. "Two days."

The elf nodded. "I'm Shen. Add some clothes and lodging as thanks for the treatment. As I said, I'm seeking to unveil my Will. I think touring the city will help me with that."

His words were crude, and his mannerisms arrogant and dry. Pagarti didn't like it but decided to withstand it out of gratitude. To a point. Just like that, the dark elf had made Pagarti lose any desire to help him solve his mental compulsion.

And if the dark elf decided to remain obnoxious after being beaten in their spar...

Well, Pagarti was thankful, but he wouldn't become anyone's slave.

"So be it," Pagarti replied. "Univari will see to your rewards. I'll focus on healing and send someone for you in two days." That was a small jab and a statement: propiety demanded he try to appease his healer more, but Shen's attitude was souring their relationship.

"Yes, milord!" Vice-Captain Univari replied.

The dark elf seemed ignore or not care about the jab. "Very well," he said with a nod, and turned to Univari. "Clothes first. What is your race called?"

Pagarti felt irked at already being disregarded, but he swallowed his pride and left. Returning to the protection of his qi arrays in his palace let him relax a little. A pill and five minutes later, his arm was regrown.

His arm was back, but he hadn't lied to the dark elf. He would need a couple of days to fully heal. That included getting used to his limb again.

The elf wanted a fight?

Well, Pagarti would give him the defeat of his life! Greater skill didn't mean greater power, and Pagarti would teach it to Shen.

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