CHAPTER ASHBORN 452: MIRRORED REFLECTIONS

It was not the storm of demons, or even Chakra, that signaled the start of the battle that would determine the fate of the Garga and the Chitran.

In fact, the bombs made no sound at all as they fell, and unlike Samar Patag, Vir’s airships did not need to worry about friendly fire.

Shouts of alarm erupted from the enemy camp as the barrels emerged from the clouds high above them, morphing into screams of pain as the barrels exploded upon contact with the ground, setting everything they touched ablaze.

Vir watched the carnage unfold from his airship, stationed high in the sky nearby. The fleet had flown above the clouds, relying on Saunak’s instrumentation to position themselves properly. The Chitran never saw them coming.

“They stood no chance,” Vir said, witnessing the grim spectacle without a hint of joy despite the victory. “This almost feels wrong.”

The cackling Thaumaturge dancing beside him, however, clearly thought otherwise.

“Wrong?” Saunak shouted. “Lord Boy, my bombs just saved your troops’ lives! You should be thanking me! Do you know how many generals would throw themselves at my feet to accomplish such a result? Hmm?”

The Thaumaturge looked to Cirayus, but only found a scowl. The Asura milling around the deck also threw wary looks at the old demon.

“Tch. You’re all killjoys, the lot of you. Ah, well. The results speak for themselves.”

“Give Ashani the signal,” Vir muttered. “With the chaos the bombs are causing, our enemy will not be able to respond.”

“Aye,” Cirayus said, waving his hand. His instructions were in turn ferried to the Ashen Realm by way of a Gate set up on the airship.

Ash Gates opened one after another, beginning the second phase of the operation. Just as Vir had predicted, the prana density alone killed off the enemy army by the dozens.

Aindri Warriors fell off their mounts, vomiting blood as the prana overloaded their bodies. Their mounts perished with them, making Vir wince. The poor beasts had done nothing wrong, and many would have been useful to the Gargan reconstruction effort.

The animals’ instincts largely saved them, however, with most having already bolted away when the bombs fell, taking their riders with them.

Despite the chaos from the bombs, the allied Chitran and Aindri army were quick to regroup, showing formidable discipline that could only have been earned through intense training.

Having learned from Vir’s previous applications of this tactic, the able-bodied among them formed wide perimeters around the Gates, bracing their spears and pikes against the demons that were about to flood through while others pulled the injured away to relative safety.

The true destruction, however, was yet to come.

For no weapon in the world could brace them for the onslaught that erupted from each Gate like spewing magma.

It began with Warrior and Life Chakras, and was quickly followed by arts from every field imaginable.

Arts that were cast in some of the deepest parts of the Ashen Realm by Warriors who had lived and trained there—these were no mere fireballs and lightning strikes. Their frequency and power both were on a level few in the realm could hope to match. ŔåN∅BĘŞ

The attack took the enemy completely by surprise—no doubt having expected a rush of demons rather than arts.

And so, by the time the Asura clad in jet-black armor did rush out, the enemy’s lines had been decimated and the Asuras smashed through with ease—literally in some cases—as enemy weapons splintered and cracked under the force of their attacks. It did not take long before the Asuras swarmed the enemy’s ranks, and chaos bloomed.

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The highly mobile Aindri fared better than their Chitran counterparts, galloping away on their mounts, thereby avoiding encirclement.

It only delayed their inevitable demise. Arts flew in every direction, but unlike the Asuras’ highly coordinated, targeted attacks, what was thrown in response was erratic and inaccurate—born more of desperation than anything else.

“Exactly as planned, huh?” Vir said slowly. “Never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Afraid that’ll have to be another day, lad,” Cirayus replied, pointing with his two right hands down at a figure that had emerged—or rather, a figure who was clearly visible because no one dared to near him. Not even the Asura. “Raja Jagath Aindri has taken to the field.”

Vir frowned, more surprised than fearful. “I truly did not expect him to ride out so far from his territory.”

Vir had, of course, learned all he could from Cirayus about the other Rajas, starting with the Chitran for obvious reasons. Matiman’s quirks, personality, decisions he made as a Raja. All to better understand the enemy.

While that knowledge hadn’t been needed at the time, Vir would be in close communication with the rest soon enough. Thankfully, he wasn’t just working off of secondhand information—he considered Thaman something of a friend and had at least met Sagun’Ra, the Iksana Raja. However, he knew very little about those of the Panav and Aindri, and of the two, the Aindri Raja was by far the more enigmatic.

The Aindri were a secretive clan by nature, though unlike the Iksana, that was mostly due to their geographic location—in the cold northern reaches of the realm. Their land was separated by tall mountains, making travel difficult on the single, poorly maintained road that connected the Aindri to the Panav lands to the south.

Furthermore, most Aindri saw no need to trade or communicate with the rest of the realm, a philosophy wholly espoused by their Raja.

Jagath was notorious for never showing up to the inter-clan meetings, and by and large, the Aindri let the rest of the realm do what they wished, opting instead to hone their skills and test their mettle in their unforgiving lands.

“Just what did Annas promise him to get him here?” Vir asked, growing increasingly concerned. His troops were being steadily pushed back—wherever the Aindri Raja appeared, attacks would cease to function, and even his mighty Asura struggled to defend.

“A concern for later,” Cirayus said, climbing atop the railing of the airship. “You asked me before why we remained up here in reserve, rather than join our forces from the outset? You just received your answer. Our time has arrived.”

Without even a glance behind, he jumped off. He was joined by Vir a second later.

Cirayus had taken down Raja Matiman, but if the rumors were true, even their combined might not be enough this time around.

As he fell, Vir braced himself for what could be the most difficult battle of his life.

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“So, all goes as planned, then,” Annas muttered, more to himself than the Aindri spy who’d just delivered a most satisfactory report on the unfolding battle. “I only need a half hour from Jagath. If he can stall them that long, we win.”

The red demon wore a Gargan Laborer Calling badge and was dressed in simple, but clean, robes. To anyone other than an Iksana with Sight, he looked like any other Gargan, and even if they saw him, it wasn’t like the Akh Nara had forbidden Aindri within his walls. The boy’s naivete would be his undoing.

The spy frowned, giving Annas a judging look. “Lord Jagath will do more than stall them, Annas. You underestimate his power. The Akh Nara will be lucky if he gets out alive.”

“You’ve seen him fight, have you?” Annas asked.

The spy nodded. “I have. And if you had as well, you would not speak such words. There are few beings in this realm stronger than the Ravager. Lord Jagath is one. People simply do not know, because he refuses to fight in that pointless Bairan tournament.”

“Let us hope that your faith in him is not misplaced,” Annas said, feeling slightly relieved. “If we can kill the Ravager or the Akh Nara today, we will have won a great victory for the realm.”

“Still, I cannot help but wonder if it came at too great a cost,” the spy said.

“What cost?” Annas asked. “No change comes without blood spilled.”

“You truly do not care, do you?” the spy asked, looking somewhat disgusted. “It’s not just your people dying out there, Annas. Our Warriors are dying for you, too.”

“And you are being paid handsomely in return. However, you misunderstand me. It is precisely because blood is spilled that all this,” Annas gestured with his hands, “has meaning. The heavier the cost, the deeper this day will be engraved in everyone’s hearts. Let them remember the sacrifices we made. Let them know that the Chitran will no longer be oppressed!”

“So what do you intend to do now?” the spy asked.

“Me? Nothing.” Annas crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of the small room, his lips curling up into a vicious smile. “Why should I move when my pawns are already out there, doing my work for me? Soon, this city will burn. Soon, all will be mine.”

“Sacrifice is one thing, but you would kill your own people to retake the city?”

“Sometimes, one must first destroy to allow a better world to emerge from the ashes.”

The spy shook his head. “I will never understand you kothis. Nor do I wish to, considering how much you’re paying us. I will continue to report on the progress of the battle.”

The spy left without another word.

That was fine. Annas was pleased. More than pleased. He couldn’t wait to see the look on the Akh Nara’s face when he learned he was betrayed by the very people he tried to save. Chitran and Gargan.

For once, things were going well for Annas. Quite well, in fact.

He flexed his hand.

After all, it was hard not to be happy when the power of the Crown Chakra flowed within his veins.