(Cyrus POV)
After I destroyed the floating book made of withered leaves—the vessel that contained the essence of the ancient Starbound, Malakar—I left the structure and regrouped with the rest of the militia. I didn't bother telling anyone what I had seen or learned. It felt like revealing it would cause more of an uproar than the moment warranted.
The commander asked the volunteer Starbound with elemental advantages against plants to destroy the camp before we moved out. Our next objective was to rendezvous with the other half of our forces and provide support. As we began our march, my mind replayed that conversation with the sealed terrorist, the infamous enemy of the Syltharion Clan.
It terrified and fascinated me to think that an astral behemoth could grow so powerful that it reached the same level as a member of the Pantheon. Killing one... I never thought that was possible. And to learn that such a being had created its own constellation out of pure malice—unsettling would be an understatement.
I wondered if my father or even Grandpa Zaire had ever heard of the serpent Vel'thoryx, or if it was one of those forbidden secrets only a select few in the world knew. I was also deeply bothered by how Malakar compared me to himself. Sure, I wanted power. And yes, I craved revenge. But I wouldn't go that far. I wouldn't wipe out an entire clan to get it. My rage is focused—concentrated. I don't seek destruction. I seek justice—for my family, for my people. That's all.
I stayed lost in my thoughts for most of the trek through the astral rainforest. I didn't activate my Gravisense; my brain still hadn't recovered from the strain of using it so extensively before. I Instead leaned on the seasoned guards and adventurers within the militia.
After what felt like another hour of walking, the commander called for a halt. One of the volunteers asked why—we still had ground to cover. But the commander looked flustered, like he was expecting something different. Then I heard a scream and another shriek and wail following right behind it. I pushed forward through the group and saw faces drained of all color.
I followed the direction of their gaze, trying to trace the path to find what had brought them such horror. I slowly reached the front the group and saw the commander pointing out into the distance.
But when I looked… I saw nothing. Just the same terrain of the astral rainforest we'd been traveling through.
Confused, I turned back to the commander and asked what he saw, along with several others behind him. But no one answered. No one moved. They were frozen—petrified in place.
Immediately, I activated Gravisense.
At first, nothing jumped out to me. Then, focusing more intently, I felt a faint distortion in the gravity above us—subtle but present. There was something in the air, something invisible to the naked eye. It had a faintly sweet smell and seemed to originate from further down the path, in the direction of the enemy base.
Before I could take off to investigate, I looked back at the militia. Several people were starting to bleed from the nose.
Were we poisoned? I thought, quickly piecing together everything from my Gravisense and what my father had taught me over the past couple of years about how poisons worked.
Thankfully, I had the Scale of the Eternal Hydra—without it, I might have succumbed to the same fate.
I made haste down the path, forcing myself to keep Gravisense active despite the mental toll. This situation demanded everything I had. The further I traveled, the more bodies I found strewn across the terrain. They weren't cult members. The bodies were all wearing the same emerald-green chainmail. These were guards of the grove—the ones who had gone east. From the look of it, they didn't succeed.
"Damn," I muttered, stepping onto the grounds of the second base.
Several men emerged from the shacks nearby. I felt the gravitational distortions of others to my left and right—moving through the brush. I was surrounded.
"Leave, boy," one of the cult members said, stepping forward. "There's no reason for you to die here. Or do you want to end up like these pathetic guards and volunteers? You better run while you still can—maybe find someone who can heal you from the poison."
He then threw a body into the open, letting it roll to a stop at my feet. When I looked down, I recognized the face. It was the original commander of our militia.
His eyes were rolled back. His face was bloated and discolored from the poison. There was no saving him. He was dead.
I scanned the cores of the seven men surrounding me. Six of them were at the embryonic stage. I could handle that. But the one who threw the corpse—he was different. He was at the Adept stage. A stage that was still too much for me to handle. Sensing his core caused memories to surface of my battle with Adam, and how I was brought to the brink of death. But I buried the feeling, there was no time for me to be hesitant or scared. I had to survive; I had to win. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to exact my revenge.
"Yeah, that's a nice threat and all," I said, cracking my neck, "but see… I was told I can't leave until you are taken care of. And I really want to leave. So how about you make this easy for me and surrender?"
"Big talk for a kid who's outnumbered seven to one."
"Wouldn't be the first time," I said, smirking. "Doubt it'll be the last. It's kind of my trademark—fighting spineless fools who take orders from someone else just to gang up on a kid. Tragic, really. Just like this little group you've got going here. I guess even rejects need a playground."
"Shut up, you brat!" the Adept Starbound growled. "Get him! Make him regret walking into our territory!"
The ones in the brush charged.
"You know," I muttered as I gathered cosmic energy into my first rune, "I've been dying to ask one question."
Drawing my blade from its sheath and activating my gravity well ability, I watched as my attacker's bodies slam into the ground.
"How does the dirt taste?"