Chapter 107: Blue Flas III
Damian stood atop the crimson-blue wall, facing Uncle Adam, Serala, and Grandmother Essun.
Behind them, Masamuk floated before the Chieftain and other tribesn who had gathered to witness the impossible. One side was curious and inquisitive, the old wisewoman’s yellow teeth visible in what might have been excitent. The other side was fearful and in awe, watching the stellar blue sli with expressions that suggested they weren’t entirely certain they weren’t dreaming.
The Inkanyamba remained in the distance, its serpentine form coiled in the air above the plains. Even shrunken, its presence was enough to make several tribesn tremble.
Uncle Adam’s weathered face was tight with concern as he looked from Masamuk to the distant Behemoth.
"Are you sure about this, Young Lugal?"
His voice was low, ant only for those nearby.
"I don’t know much about Beast Lords, but can you really trust your life in their hands? Should you... do this?"
He shook his head slowly.
"It’s so early. Going against an Imperator..."
Uncle Adam was filled with worry.
But Damian’s eyes shone with a sharp light of defiance.
"If the opportunity presents itself, better now than never."
His voice was calm and certain.
"When would we have the chance to find an Imperator just lounging around these parts and not protected by armies? And since they’re here for her..."
He glanced at Serala.
"They won’t leave until they find sothing. So let’s give them sothing."
He looked toward the Holy Daughter, who had been staring at him with an inquisitive gaze this whole ti.
"What?"
Serala had a straight face as she replied.
"Correct the misunderstanding of that sli who said I was your mate."
Her voice was serious.
"The Holy Daughter of Stone shall remain pure as she takes on the Seat of the Hallowed Voice of the Covenant of the First Stone. As of now, even with this rebellion, my position has not changed."
...!
Damian looked at her as if asking whether she was serious.
Seeing her unwavering gaze, he shook his head and said calmly while rolling his eyes.
"Don’t worry. Your purity is safe with ."
...!
The two looked at each other sharply.
Uncle Adam coughed.
"Young Lugal, how much confidence do you have to even participate in this battle?"
His voice carried old pain.
"I want to be there with you, but my power is..."
He looked down at his own hands.
These hands that had once served the Vakochev Empire. These hands that had protected the Young Lugal through eight years of hiding and hardship. They belonged to a Bone Tempering Warrior now, soone who had only recently regained cultivation after years of being crippled.
Against an Imperator at Vessel Completion, what could he do?
Against forces that commanded dozens of Organ Sanctification Warriors, what use was a Second Circle cultivator?
He felt lesser.
He felt insufficient.
But when it ca to this...
Damian breathed out.
"Naturally, we have to prepare."
His dark blue eyes held a light that Uncle Adam had seen before. In the Young Lugal’s father. In the warriors who had died defending their empire.
"And this preparation would require all of us."
He turned toward the floating sli who was currently trying to assure the tribesn that he wouldn’t eat them.
Unsuccessfully.
"Hey, Masamuk! Let’s go!"
The stellar blue sli looked over with curiosity.
"Where?"
---
They gathered on that path of the Lands of Stone where Damian had drenched his blood to stand against the Inkanyamba’s beast horde.
The ground still glead crimson-blue, saturated with his essence from that desperate act of defiance. The mountain he had raised still stood in the distance, a testant to what the Primordial Tongue could accomplish. The fissures filled with jagged stone spears remained as well, a deadly battlefield that had never needed to be used.
Damian, Uncle Adam, and Serala stood on one side.
Masamuk and Inkanyamba stood on the other.
The sli had an expectant expression, his crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Are you going to do what you did with Tiaret? Is that your Land and Sky Physique?"
His obsidian body pulsed thoughtfully.
"Not just to heal, but much more? Because this whole ti, I thought your plan hinged on acting as the Healing Shaman while I fought against that Imperator..."
Damian looked at the sli who had many ideas.
And he had his own.
After seeing what the letter from the Primordial Tongue could do, he was making it his plan to truly delve into his Second Doctrine and cultivate externally. Not just with the surrounding environnt, but with others.
He had already gained a unique marker from Tiaret. It might give him access to her power, similar to a Land and Sky Physique.
Now he wanted the complete one from Serala.
And he felt like Masamuk should also have his own Land and Sky Physique. He might gain sothing there as well.
So without further ado, he spoke.
"It’s much easier to do it than to explain."
His voice was calm.
"But the answer lies in blue flas. They can heal, but they also do much more than that."
He t the eyes of everyone present.
"While the flas burn, cultivate as you normally do."
...!
After he said this, Damian sat on the ground in a ditative position. His legs folded beneath him, his palms resting on his knees, his spine straight with the posture of soone who had been taught proper cultivation forms since childhood.
Uncle Adam did the sa, settling into a position that spoke of years of practice despite his rough appearance.
Serala followed soon after, her movents graceful even as she lowered herself to the crimson-blue stone. Her wing-shaped pupils studied Damian with intensity that suggested she was trying to understand what was about to happen.
Masamuk and Inkanyamba looked at each other.
They remained where they were, the sli floating at eye level while the Behemoth coiled its massive body into sothing resembling a ditative posture.
And in the next mont, Damian spoke aloud.
"Persevere."
HUUUM!
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