Lassim’s heart was anything but calm, his eyes darting between the rogues as they eagerly awaited Kierlan’s next call for another to step forward and accept the mark.
Before he did something drastic to escape, his fingers slyly slipped into the hidden pouch on his belt and touched the silver trinket, the tiny disc Vaela had given him before this entire mission began. It was to be used to signal if things had gone south—a last resort. And now, as Kierlan’s beady red eyes scanned the group with anticipation, Lassim knew that the time had come to use it.
He couldn’t risk being marked like the others. He had seen enough in the way Gareth and Selira had changed, their natural elements still in the process of being corroded by the shadowy night elemental and beastial power that Kierlan had infused into them.
Whatever the Horned-Rat’s Favor was, it was no simple gift. It twisted the very core of a person, warping them into something closer to the Nevaks.
Kierlan’s voice rasped through the chamber, pulling Lassim from his thoughts. "Who will be next to receive the blessing of the great one’s power?" The Nevaks leader’s smile widened, his sharp yellow teeth bared as he awaited the next volunteer. His staff, the heavy twisted piece of wood, thudded against the stone floor, sending a shiver through the room.
The rogues were eager. A few of them shuffled forward and some even further noticed the limited remaining number of vials left in the chest. There wouldn’t be enough for all of them, probably only a majority around 60% would get their marks today. This led to a few scuffles breaking out.
Lassim’s fingers tightened around the trinket Vaela had given him, designed to send an alarm to its matching counterpart in her possession.
As Kierlan grinned widely, watching the restless rogues as they started to descend into chaos, Lassim discreetly pressed the trinket.
There was no visible effect, no sound or flash—just a silent transmission to Vaela’s own trinket, alerting her to the imminent danger. She would receive it soon, wherever she was.
No one around him seemed to notice as Lassim quickly shifted his focus.
Despite letting her know what was going on, he needed to escape as he couldn’t wait for help to arrive.
Using his own elemental powers and cultivation, he channeled the void energy into using the main ability of his progenitor marks.
Hoping to not repeat the mistakes of the past and travel without a clear destination in mind, he concentrated on a clear image of Vaela’s house—the layout of the rooms, the textures, every detail seared into his memory as the scene from the other day’s antics still filled his mind with a steamy sensation.
As the power coursed through him, the markings on his body began to glow faintly, responding to his call.
It happened in an instant before Kierlan or the others could react as his spiritual pressure swept out.
The world around him rippled, and with a controlled surge of energy, Lassim teleported himself away from the underground chamber, the oppressive atmosphere of Kierlan and the rogues’ brawling dissolving as he escaped back to the safety of Sandspire Village.
The underground chamber dissolved in an instant as he traveled through the weave of the spatial fabric, transporting through its layers.
Then suddenly, in its place, Lassim felt the warmth of the desert sun on his skin, the familiar sensation of the hot, shifting sands beneath his feet. He blinked, disoriented by the sudden change, but quickly realized where he had landed.
Standing before him, lance in hand and posture tense with readiness, was Vaela in front of her house, ready to take off into flight.
Her lighting filled eyes widened in surprise as she saw him, though she quickly composed herself. "Lassim?" she asked, her voice tinged with both curiosity and concern. "What—how did you…?"
"There’s no time," Lassim interrupted, shaking his head as he caught his breath. "I’ll explain later, but we’ve got a serious problem. I’ve met the rogue’s leader—Kierlan—he’s a Nevaks."
Vaela’s expression darkened instantly, the tension in her stance shifting as she processed his words. "A Nevaks? Are you sure?"
Lassim nodded, his mouth dry as he tried to gather his thoughts. "Yes. I’ve seen him. He’s using some kind of dark power to mark the rogues, changing them. He calls it the Horned-Rat’s Favor. There’s probably around 50 or so rogue cultivators in total.
I witnessed first hand as he gave the marks to Gareth and Selira. Whatever it is, it’s warping them similar to the abyssal cult’s marks. I even noticed that after just a few minutes, it was obvious that it’s altering their core elements, weakening their original powers and replacing them with the night element. It’s also changing them to be more like a Nevaks too."
Vaela’s grip tightened on her lance, her jaw clenched as she took in the gravity of his words. "Go on."
Lassim swallowed, glancing around to ensure they were alone before continuing. "Kierlan is planning something big—he’s building an army, and this desert area is only the beginning I think. He’s planning to take over as much as he can and make some sort of kingdom. He’s definitely going to use the marked rogues to attack and kill a bunch of people once more have been marked."
"I had to leave," Lassim said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I couldn’t risk being marked. If I had stayed any longer, he would have forced the Mark on me. The moment I teleported, I’m sure he realized what happened."
Vaela nodded, her eyes narrowing as she made her decision. "We can talk about how you managed to do that later; we don’t have much time. If what you’re saying is true, Kierlan will send his marked rogues after you the moment he realizes you’ve escaped. They’ll be on their way here now."
Without another word, Lassim pulled the standard communication disc from his pouch. The small, round device hummed softly in his hand as he channeled his mana into it, activating its messaging function.
The surface of the disc glowed faintly as he crafted his message, his fingers moving quickly as he etched the details into the magical surface.
Urgent: Mission situation has changed. Threat greater than a single Spirit Transcendence stage combatant can handle has been detected. A group of rogue cultivators under Nevaks control is preparing to attack Sandspire Village imminently. Request immediate assistance.
He paused for a moment before adding more details: The Nevaks leader, Kierlan, has appeared to have the ability to mark rogue cultivators with a power called the Horned-Rat’s Favor, altering their abilities and converting them into his followers with the night element. Immediate reinforcements are needed.
Satisfied with the message, Lassim sent it out, feeling the disc hum slightly as the request traveled to the Mission Hall back at the sect.
He slipped the disc back into his pouch and looked up at Vaela. "Help will be on the way, but we’ll have to hold them off until they get here."
Vaela’s eyes gleamed with determination as she adjusted her grip on her lance. "Then we’ll hold them."
The two of them stood in tense silence, the scorching desert sun beating down on them as they floated into the sky and scanned the horizon. The village below them was quiet, unaware of the danger that was rapidly approaching.
They were going to be severely outnumbered compared to the usual attacks the village had received. Facing rogues who were not only more powerful but also twisted by the dark influence of Kierlan’s Mark.
Minutes passed, each one dragging on with agonizing slowness. Lassim’s senses were on high alert, every shift in the wind or flicker of movement catching his attention.
He knew the rogues wouldn’t be far behind, but thankfully they wouldn’t know where exactly he had gone. Kierlan wouldn’t tolerate his escape, and the marked rogues would be relentless in their pursuit.
Suddenly, Vaela’s eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on a point in the distance. "They’re coming," she said, her voice low and steady.
Lassim followed her gaze, and sure enough, he could see them—small figures on the horizon, moving rapidly across the desert sands. At first, it was difficult to make out their exact numbers, but as they drew closer, it became clear that there were at least a dozen of them, their forms distorted by the shimmering heat of the desert.
And each one of them bore the unmistakable red glow of the Horned-Rat’s Mark from their eyes.
"They didn’t waste time and marked the others too now," Lassim muttered, his fists clenching at his sides. "This won’t be easy."
Vaela nodded, her expression grim but resolute. "We’ll manage. Just don’t hold back at all..."
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The rogues reached the edge of the village with terrifying speed, their eyes glowing with the same eerie red light that Lassim had seen in Gareth. The rest of the group wouldn’t be far behind once they realized where Lassim had escaped to. Lassim could even make out more figures further away in the distance headed his way.
As the first rogue reached the edge of the village, Lassim saw a flash of darkness in his hand, a shadowy bolt forming at his fingertips.
Without hesitation, the rogue hurled the attack toward them, the air around it warping as the dark night energy surged forward with terrifying speed.
Lassim reacted on instinct, his hands snapping up as he summoned his [Aegis], the icy barrier in front of him and Vaela. The shadow bolt collided with the barrier, exploding in a burst of dark energy that sent shockwaves through the air. The force of the impact was strong, but Lassim’s ice held easily against the Spirit Ascension level attack, dispersing it before it could reach them.
Vaela didn’t waste a moment after the first attack was launched.
With a burst of speed, she dove toward the first rogue that had thrown the [Shadow Bolt], her lance spinning at a high rotation speed as her fingers twirled it in her hands before as she unleashed a torrent of lightning-infused strikes that created devastating and piercing lance-like phantoms.
The rogue cultivator, clearly not expecting her to move so quickly, was caught off guard. He barely had time to raise his oddly hairy and somewhat rat-like arms in defense before Vaela’s lance pierced through his shoulder, sending a surge of lightning through his body that knocked him off his feet.
The rogue crumpled to the ground, his body twitching violently as the lightning coursed through him.
But Vaela didn’t stop there.
Her movement technique [Lightning Shift] activated and her movements turned into a blur as she darted between the next two rogues, her lance striking with deadly accuracy.
Her attacks were relentless, each one infused with a controlled surge of lightning that left her enemies struggling to keep up.
One of the rogues, his eyes glowing with the same eerie red light, charged at Lassim, his hand wreathed in shadow as he summoned a wave of dark energy.
Lassim narrowed his eyes, waiting for the moment to strike.
As the rogue raised his hand to release the attack, Lassim darted forward, his body crackling with lightning as he unleashed his [Lightning Lash] technique.
The lightning shot out from his hand, coiling around the rogue like a serpent, stunning him. The rogue’s eyes widened in shock as the lightning constricted around him and paralyzed him, sending violent surges of energy through his body.
Lassim pulled the rogue off his feet via the chain of lightning, slamming him into the ground with a burst of force.
But even as the rogue hit the ground, Lassim could see the shadows swirling around his body, trying to reform and protect him.
This dark power Kierlan had given them was unlike anything he had seen the night element do before—it was resilient, adapting to their attacks as if the night element itself was shielding them instinctually.