Wrath, Envy and Pride (Part 1)

Retching noises broke the new desert's silence as Kilian puked a liter of blood. If the von Skolls' Nuclear Manipulation ranked first among humanity's Arcane Bloodlines, then Adramelech's Atomkinesis could compete for first spot on the multiverse scale. But even with his Philosopher's Stone, this wasn't an ability Kilian could freely abuse. The stronger the foes, the greater their numbers, the more taxing it became. Still, as Kilian's Philosopher's Stone, Dra Control and strength increased, it'd get easier.

On average, the 300 suras held 3,400 dra each. Digesting their souls, Kilian's depleted Philosopher's Stone's Dra Reserves grew by 1.02 million dra. With such reserves, he could cast 20 Fifth Circle Spells or die 20 times before having to replenish his soul stock. No wonder Flawless Stones brought hexes. And as the stone nullified the backlash, Kilian summoned Inyoka, then fell face first.

"Sss, sss!" Expanding to a full ten meters, Inyoka hoisted Kilian onto his back and carried him away. With 25 hectares of desert and no clear direction, the serpent could only follow his heightened senses to find a more suitable shelter. Little did he know that they'd lead him to a sura tribe about 50 meters away from Kilian's battleground. The strongest of Kilian's abominations, Inyoka could make minced meat of mid-level Archons and didn't mind cleaning the place for safety. However, even with the distance, two predominant scents ruled that tribe: fear and helplessness.

Feeling no threat, Inyoka made his camp and led Kilian to a pond of Divine Water. One of the most coveted treasures of the Sura Plane, Divine Water not only increased Dra Reserves but contained astounding healing properties. Instinctively, Inyoka wished to feed his master—but as he neared the pond—he stopped and squinted at the water.

"Wait, don't touch that!" A melodious voice came from Inyoka's left, and he coiled to face its owner.

…

Meanwhile, Lena crossed a forest of weeping cherry trees, herself restraining tears.

"Master, how could you be so heartless and just dump me in the middle of nowhere?" Lena complained, and imagining how the aistis were now free to crowd her master, she couldn't restrain her grief. But as she approached a clearing, Lena paused, dusted off her Arcanist Robe and bent back. Three silent knives flew by, nailing the spot her head stood in a second before. With masterful reflexes, Lena snatched all three knives and hurled them back at their senders.

Ringing sounds followed, and the blades tumbled. Fifteen shadows leaped from behind the trees to surround Lena. All wore blue power armors that left no skin exposed.

"Fifteen High Templars, just for me?" Lena thought out loud. Though across her time in the Academy, she'd progressed to low-level High Emissary, surely she didn't deserve such a welcome party. Even if the technocrats wished to target Kilian through her, this didn't make sense.

"Don't flatter yourself. They're here for me," a voice came from behind the armored goons, and they sidestepped to let a woman pass. Dressed in a black-gold robe, with the typical black hair and amber eyes of the von Skolls, Lena recognized her at a glance.

"Irma von Skoll belongs to the Technocracy?" she blurted. Strength-wise, among the von Skoll scions, Irma and Alan didn't rank high. However, as the son and daughter of Gerlach, their unique status put them on the front row. Top-level Exarch, Grand Master of the Divine Glory and Niklas' only friend, Gerlach stood at the summit of the von Skoll hierarchy. How could his children belong to the Technocracy?

"Try again," Irma replied as if reading through Lena's thoughts, and her appearance underwent drastic changes. Back-length dreadlocks replaced her curly hair, the amber eyes turned hazel, and her figure morphed to become that of a 17 years old beauty. With a tiny waist and perfectly toned physique, the girl's athletic appeal would have snatched attention if not for the burning wrath visible in her eyes.

Seeing her, Lena arched her eyebrows, "Tamara?" she asked, for indeed, hiding behind the name of Irma, was none other than Tamara, the fallen Lukas' sister.

"Meaning that Alan...is Bjorn?" Lena realized, and as she put two and two together, Tamara's lips curled into a fiendish grin.

"Right. Long time no see, sister-in-law. Wait, now I guess it is slut," Tamara replied, and with a hand wave, dismissed the 15 templars. Seeing the armored technocrats leave for other targets, Lena frowned.

"Are you sure this is wise?"

"You are not my match. Without your fehl master, you ain't worth shit. Don't worry, after I maul you into pieces, I will send him your remains." Tearing off her black-gold robe, Tamara revealed a gray chainmail that only covered her breasts, arms and legs. For a technocrat, such archaic defenses made no sense, so Lena didn't doubt the mail stored secret boons. And ignoring Tamara's words, she adopted her battle stance, with her left foot on front, and her hands raised to chin level. Amused, Tamara sneered, and with neither stance nor form, stomped her foot. Faster than Lena's eyes could follow, Tamara assailed her neck with an elbow strike.

Bending back, Lena threw her right knee at Tamara's chin, but the latter's elbow changed direction and smashed into Lena's knee instead. Bones cracked, and gathering her dra in her left foot, Lena leaped out of Tamara's range, stumbled, and fell on her right knee.

"I am a mahana, in physique, you can't compare," Tamara said, and by the time her words reached Lena, she reappeared at her back with her right leg dropping in an ax kick.

Hellfire burst from Lena's form, surging like an unstoppable blaze to embroil Tamara and everything in a three-meter radius. But even with the hellfire latching on her, Tamara's ax kick went on unimpeded, forcing Lena to roll to the side.

The kick smashed into the ground with an explosion of smoke and rubble, reminding Lena that if it reached her skull, her life was forfeit. Still trapped in Lena's hellfire, Tamara made a slow turn toward her foe, but wasting no time, Lena slammed her fists on the ground:

"Third Circle Spell: Terrestrial Blast!"

The explosion hit Tamara point-blank, but shrugging it off, she rushed past it, landed before Lena, and kicked at her face.

*Bang*

Crossing her arms before the blow, Lena blocked it but flew backward from the impact. If not for the Arcanist Robe's protection, her arms' bones would have shattered on the spot.

"Mahanas don't fear magic," Tamara stated, and in a flash, surrounded Lena with a flurry of kicks.