Emperor's Reckoning

“He..’s back,” muttered one local.

“Lyon Torga… is back..”

“His… home…”

“King Deo…”

“King Deo!”

“King Deo! King Deo!”

Waves of cheers soon erupted and occupied the eardrums of the entire Nostria. The title was chanted over and over to his confusion.

“Huh?” Lyon furrowed his brows. He had not known who the king they were referring to, but their faces of grins were looking at him. Lyon smirked a little, however, he darted his gaze toward the beautiful man standing on top of the building with his quiver and a bow on his back.

The two gazes met with eyes as sharp as the others. Lyon nodded, “Come!”

Jugen nodded with a tightened fist before he jumped on top of the chariot.

Lyon nodded at him before he darted at Kesya, “Kesya, have you picked up anything?”

“They are as fresh as baked bread, Emperor,” Kesya grinned. “We are going south.”

Lyon nodded. “Jugen, we are not going to leave a single one of them alive.”

“I can’t ask for more, he cut my sister’s arm, we will cut their existence.”

Lyon smirked. “Yoji!”

The Tetragram Chariot blinked before smashing the barrier of sound for the cultivators to suffer. The ground quakes relentlessly the second they were gone from the site and they were left tumbling down, searching for balance that never got caught.

Reka, Sylviana, Prince Frey, and Riku, the four of them were flabbergasted by his sudden arrival. The power from a glance alone was enough for them to understand what kind of cultivator he had become.

Biana and Clemora shook their heads with a smile. He had reached a greater height than they could fathom. The stars on the ground had learned their true capabilities and soared to the sky. The blistering light that they could only stretch their hands toward.

…

Deep in the woods of a dead continent. The whole tribe of the orcs came together with their chief carrying the key toward their goal over his shoulder.

The chieftain’s brows remained furrowed as he looked at the cloaked person leading the way.

“We’ve done it, but are you sure that she would be enough?” asked the chief.

“Don’t worry about it, it should be enough, we have weakened the seal over time, she is the final shot we need,” Nora smiled. “Rejoice, for the path to your home shall be opened.”

“Hmph! You talk that way but you know well how we hated the humans and exploited us.”

“Haha, don’t say that, our causes are conjoined so no need to hate us for what we do, we did it in the end after all.”

The chief snorted before they saw a lone forsaken tower. The building was in ruin and walls were chipped off. Veins of vegetation coiled around the remaining structure as mosses occupied the floors.

As soon as they entered the tower, they were greeted with solemn gazes from other cloaked cultivators. They were standing by a closed gate with a keyless lock. The inscribing on the gate was ancient bronze and brought a feeling of a distant age.

“How does it go?” asked Nora.

“The seal is weakening but it’s still not enough to break it completely,” answered one of them before he frowned looking at the woman the orc carried, “is she the one?”

“Yup, she is the one, the key that will finally shimmer down that seal.”

“Great!” The cultivator rejoiced. “Come hurry, post her knees on the ground, and let her chest face the seal.”

“This woman is unconscious, you should assist her by picking up her shoulder,” said Nora as he sighed.

“That’s not really a problem,” said one of them before he approached the chieftain. “May I have her?”

“Hmph,” the orc snorted. “Do as you wish with her.”

He past Karina to the cloaked person before the latter furrowed his brows.

The cloaked person noticed how she was missing her hand and half of her forearm. He looked above at the chief but said nothing.

“It was necessary, she was about to kill herself,” said the chief.

“Woah, she would do that? A true cultivator I see,” Nora nodded. “Thankfully you’re quick to act.”

“Your praises are nothing to me,” said the chief before he leered over. “You guys wait outside, I will call you when the door is opened.”

“C-Chief can we stay?” asked one of the orcs.

“No,” he answered sternly.

“Yes, chief!” they immediately rushed outside and joined the others.

After not a single orc except for the chieftain was left, he darted back to the gate.

“She is going to be cold the next day,” said Nora as he chuckled. “Too bad, she thought that she had experienced a serendipity but it seems like she found her death instead.”

“She will wake up, the pain will be severe, just cover your ears when it happened,” said the other cloaked person.

“Gotcha,” Nora nodded.

The two that were guarding the gate proceeded to bring Karina to a knee and faced upward toward the sealed gate by holding her shoulders.

“We need your help Nora, switch with me,” said one of the two.

“Right, sure.”

After they had switched positions, the person leading the ritual smiled underneath his mask. “You look so concerned, orc, rejoice will you, you will witness the change of the century, not the millennia.”

“You talk too much, just hurry up and do it.”

“Heh, looks like you’re hardly the chatty guy, regardless!” he grabbed a special inscribed knife and pointed it to the sky. “The world shall return to its original age!”

He swung down with all of his might before piercing right into Karina’s left breast. The scribing lit up before her eyes snapped open with pupils the size of a dot. Her eyes opened wide before her head shook right to left as she screamed. Her calves were locked down, and her shoulders were locked as well. She was conscious but her vision blurred as she wailed against the sky.

“It has begun…”

The king of the Kingdom of Errel, Galaeron, was looking from a distance with his two trusted generals, Connak and Agist.

“Your Majesty, her screams go all the way out here,” said Connak. “Are we going to ignore the Legion’s leader’s warning or are we going to take action?”

“It is clear that their goals are against our favor,” said Galaeron. “But striking now might not be the best, the orcs are still a force to reckon with.”

“Then what shall we do, Your Majesty?” asked Agist.

“We wait until they fully coagulated the entire Anti-Mana into one huge ball, then we shoot our mana-fused arrow against it.”

“Your Majesty, you’re going to take up your bow?” Connak asked with a light-up face.

“I have to, in fact, depending on the size of the giant ball our mana-fused arrows might not be enough to cancel the entirety of it,” Galaeron let out a solemn sigh.

“What if the leader disrupts us?”

“My illusion is greater than his perceptiveness, we should be fine here, they would only know once our arrows hit the mark. Makes sure to inject your internal mana instead of the surrounding, otherwise, they might get curious,” said Galaeron. “We have one shot then we are getting out of here, whether succeeding or not.”

Agist and Connak nodded. They had never seen the king so focused before. His eyes might be weary but his gaze could still look through people. “At once, Your Majesty!”

Both of them pulled out their bows and charged their arrow. Their gaze lies between the small window of the tower where they could see just enough for Karina’s wailing.

The orc looked at the anti mana seeping out of her chest and coagulated to a sphere hovering in the air. Under the laughing of the Legion and the wails of the blonde woman, his brows suddenly frowned as he quickly turned around. Ragnar was in his hand as he solemnly looked at the masked person standing behind him.

“Oh ya? You’re really capable.”

“Leader! You come just at the right time! Look at this lady, she harbors a lot of Anti-Mana, just like you said,” Nora laughed.

“Hahaha, I thankful that I could be of help,” the leader laughed.

“I’m not talking about you!” said the orc chief solemnly as his gaze laid beyond the leader of the Legion. He gritted his teeth as his natural instinct called out.

“Huh?” The leader turned and looked at the open entrance of the tower.

Galaeron had his spine frosting before his pupils slowly leered to the side where he saw a muzzle of a horse piercing the fabric of space like broken glass.

“A man with crossed arms, that’s gotta be…” Galaeron’s hair fluttered as the chariot galloped toward the tower at full charge before turning into a meteor.

The orc’s and the leaders’ eyes widened at the approaching light over the awed orcs outside the tower.

“WHat!?” One of the horses’ foreheads crashed onto the chieftain’s crossed arm with blood spurting out of his gritted teeth before the excessive force blew out the entire structure of the tower.