Beastforged Bond

The World within me shook as the ground beneath my feet vibrated. An immense amount of incredibly pure ether entered my range of perception, and I looked upward to the balcony, where the floor behind it flooded with the energy.

There was so much ether, so intense, that even the irritable, handsome man flying around, praising the cadets’ achievements before handing them their graduation certificates, was distracted. He slowed and turned around, his eyes shuddering momentarily. That was all I needed to see to know something was going on. Yet, before anyone could say anything, the pure ether dispersed, and my World grew silent once more.

Do not worry, child. That was just my sister.

Volix said this while redoubling his effort to absorb the rest of the sacred flame.

Your sister?

Did an Emperor beast just appear in the Grand Camp? That would be… bad.

Can you sense something else? What happened up there? I inquired, impatience licking at my nerves.

That was probably just a warning.

A warning?

The Ruler of Fire is in the tower. My sister struck him. Warned him and demonstrated that violence against the Spirits’ Voices is met with even more violence. My sister does not know mercy, but she follows the rules imposed on her to a fault.

The Ruler of Fire was here? As troublesome as that was, the news of an Emperor beast attacking Raffael Torch was a blessing in my ears. Did that mean he was dead?

In more ways than one, the news of Volix’s sister attacking Raffael Torch was relieving. Maybe I should feel bad about it, but his death would remove the weight on my shoulders. Was I evil for thinking like that? I… didn’t know.

He is still alive. A warning was all he received for his actions–a punishment. My sister would only have killed him if he had caught and bound me. She would have made an example of his foolishness, shown all of the Bastions what happens to those breaking the Pact,

Volix explained calmly before adding more softly,

My failure would have become an example for the other Voices as well.

Color drained from my face as I heard that.

Doesn’t that mean she’s going to rip me a new one for binding you? Well… for you binding yourself to me…

I shuddered at the thought, imagining the worst.

She is sensitive to the racial powers of your kind. Cynthia must have sensed the Worlds of all those present, so she knows about you and all those bound to you and the other cadets. That also includes the firmness of our bond. As long as she saw our bond, she knows that I bound myself to you voluntarily. Otherwise she would not have left the Grand Camp. She would have ripped your World apart to retrieve me. That did not happen, so you can rest assured.

I swallowed hard, digesting what the Elemental Phoenix said. My mind was in shambles, throwing one nightmarish vision after another at me. It was bad, and it only stopped when the flying Blessed halted the graduation ceremony to return to the balcony. Shouts tore through the dark thoughts filling my head, pulling my attention back to the Blessed as he returned with a ghastly pale face.

The ceremony continued, but the atmosphere was in shambles. The cadets’ achievements were cut short, the ceremony’s tone no longer the same. And it only grew worse as a commotion rang through the rows of cadets.

“What the fuck! The Ninth Bastion exploded!” someone shouted suddenly, sending shivers down my spine.

I was not alone. Several cadets gasped, and it did not take long before the first accessed the Grand Camp’s network. It was not comparable to the Nexus of the Bastions, but certain forums and news websites were connected.

My hair stood on end as I turned to Daniel standing beside me. He had already opened one of the forums, eyes narrowed as an emergency article appeared.

“Ruler Saphira was killed?!” a young voice cried out in disbelief.

Killed in the events of a terrifying explosion.

“A colossal tiger appeared in the sky right before the explosion. Several sources report the sighting of a–…” Daniel muttered to himself, his eyes skimming the short article. My eyes followed his before I focused on my own watch to open the forum and the threads flooding the system.

The Behemoth was caught?

Volix laughed, sounding far too happy.

Volca will be pleased to hear that the Frozen Spirit failed where we prevailed.

I just listened, eyes narrowed to two thin lines.

That was your sister’s doing? I hissed quietly, switching to mental communication when a cadet glanced my way.

No, that couldn’t have been your sister. Saphira was thousands of kilometers from the Grand Camp, fighting the Fithar Alliance’s forces. She–

That is the extent of her powers. My sister is an anomaly even among us sacred beasts,

Volix snickered, still far too happy for my liking.

From what I understood, the tigress was Volix’s sister. And she… well, she punished Saphira for capturing the Behemoth of the Frozen Spirit, killing her.

As happy as the Elemental Phoenix was, the death of yet another Ruler promised to stir trouble. Sure, the explosion killed thousands of the Fithar Alliance’s elite, but if Saphira had actually managed to bind the Behemoth of the Frozen Spirit, she should have been strong enough to deal with most of mankind’s problems. She could have changed the tides of the war.

Yet the more I thought about it, the more questions surfaced.

How did she bind the Behemoth? I sincerely doubted Ruler Saphira asked the Emperor beast nicely. If her actions resulted in similar destruction as the incident with the Caldera and Volix… I shuddered.

Just how many Rulers had to die to bind a single Emperor beast? And… for what? Just for everyone to die anyway?

Had the Council really been that blind, thinking everything would work out as they wished? Did they not think the Spirits or their Voices would retaliate?

The Council was filled with old Blessed, some of whom lived for hundreds of years, surviving mankind’s worst disasters. Yet they didn’t know. Or… they did know, and they took the risk anyway. If that was the case, there had to be a reason. It couldn’t be that the Rulers’ greed pushed them to do something as stupid as that.

Was the corruption of power at play, or was this something even worse?

Sighing deeply, all the joy of wearing nice and expensive clothes for the first time evaporated. The happiness of graduating and returning home to family and friends was no more.

Instead, only questions lingered.

How were the Bastions supposed to survive like this? Were we supposed to survive this disaster in the first place?

***

The mood in the central hub was subdued, to say the least. The graduation ceremony ended smoothly, but nobody was in the right mood to celebrate after hearing news of Ruler Saphira’s death. She was one of the well-known Rulers. Ruler Saphira never governed a Bastion, but she made it a mission to travel through the Bastions–more often than not covered in blood, if the news outlets were to be believed.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

And now, she was dead, killed by an overwhelming force that left behind massive chasms spanning several kilometers and dropping hundreds of meters deep.

The subdued mood threatened to be replaced by a group of idiots who quickly forgot about Saphira’s death and what it meant, but they were quickly silenced by those around them.

We returned to our districts, avoiding the modernized warehouse the Grand Camp had decorated for the after-graduation party, and made our way to the flying ships. The cadets from our district were already boarding, while the staff shuffled around. Several pale-faced workers ran past me, their thoughts and feelings written on their faces.

“Looks like we’ll depart ahead of time.” Daniel grimaced.

“Looks like it.” I grunted, looking around, searching for familiar faces. Predator triggered as I infused a lot of ether into my eyes, but I couldn’t find them. “Sophie and Fabienne left already.”

Scott scooted in between Daniel and me, his arms coiling around our shoulders. “Don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine. Even more so with that gift of yours.”

“Look who’s there,” Daniel said. “Where have you been, Scott?”

I patted my chest in relief at Scott’s words. “The Tokens were helpful? That’s good to know.”

“We will see them again. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

As far as I was concerned, I’d much rather see them again sooner than later. However, as long as they survived the terrors of war, I couldn’t complain.

“So long as it’s not their graves we’re visiting, yes.”

We chatted a little longer, my not-so-subtle attempts at learning more about Scott’s visions failing miserably, even as we boarded the flying ship.

Every cadet was given his or her own little room, a small bedroom with little more space to stretch. It couldn’t be larger than six square meters, but that was more than enough for me. Daniel complained about the rooms and disappeared, searching for someone with the authority to transfer rooms. For all the luxury he was used to, he cared little about comfort. Instead, he was attached to his friends, hoping to find a room large enough for the three of us to stay.

The journey in the flying ship wouldn’t take longer than a few days. Days during which we could rest, or focus on the opportunity at hand. The Aspect Ring still circulated in my core, its fiery exterior releasing tendrils of lava-like substance into my core, pushing it to crack open and expand as it recovered. There was never a full recovery, as the Aspect Ring instead formed by the Elemental Phoenix supplied the perfect amount of pressure to make things work, without interrupting my normal World refinement schedule at that.

The Aspect Ring pushed the World’s growth to new heights, and so did the 6th Volume of Blastor Refinery, which I wanted to practice and use. It was about time.

“I’ll take my leave. Have to refine my World a little,” Scott said, turning to enter the room next to mine.

I regarded him for a moment, unsure if it was fine to ask, but curiosity got the better of me. “You still refine your World?”

My friend slowed and turned to regard me as though I were an ignorant child. “I don’t want my World to atrophy. Plus, I need as much ether as possible if I want to fight a Guardian beast as an Expert. I have neither the quality nor quantity needed to fight a beast at that Rank alone. Maybe if I had a few more traits or higher-ranked Ether Gates to temper my body. Alas, I can only refine my World and purify the core.”

That did make sense. Scott had only Ether Gates up to the peak of the Evolved Rank–from a single Soulkin. Worse even, that Soulkin did not provide him with physical empowerment. Destiny was powerful in its own regard, but the squirrel was certainly not a brute. Nox was a physical power, but even the old Mirage Serpent and Aureus were physically stronger than Destiny.

“Right, there was that–purifying ether,” I recalled.

My World was already much larger than the average Blessed at this point, but it was a far cry from meeting the requirements needed to purify ether. Usually, Masters started purifying their ether as they prepared for the advancement to the next level, but it was not until one became a Grandmaster that ether’s purity played a more pivotal role.

Scott was on a different level entirely. His World–the core, to be precise–was probably durable enough to endure the strain that came with purification. I’d have to reach the 8th volume of Blastor Refinery to start purifying ether. That was going to take a while. Quite long, to be frank.

“Don’t go hunting the divination beast on your own. I’ll join you once you’re ready,” I said.

“You said that already.” Scott snickered, the door to his room swinging open.

“I know. Just wanted to remind you.” I laughed, stepping into my room.

Several screens materialized with a wave of my hand, displaying the 6th Volume of Blastor Refinery. The first two volumes were meant for young children, the third for elementary students, and the fourth for younger teens. Starting with the 5th Volume, the technique’s tone shifted, becoming far more serious.

As for the sixth volume, it depicted a complicated technique requiring immense control over both ether and soul energy. It was dangerous and had to be practiced with caution.

I didn’t expect a miracle, but I was confident in my mastery. My daily training schedule was horrendous. It wasn’t something most people could–much less wanted to–go through, yet here I was, playing masochist. Or…was I secretly one? Regardless of my preferences, I had to do this. I wanted to get it right.

Over the next few hours, I didn’t hear anything from Daniel or Scott. I focused on the files and read through them again. Most of Blastor Refinery’s ten volumes were already etched deeply into my mind, but being meticulous could harm no one.

With my mind refreshed, I gathered the golden soul-energy particles and merged them with ether. Fusing the two energies was easy at this point. A year ago, it had been complex, but now it felt natural. However, the 6th volume was not the same as the earlier ones; the proportions changed significantly. Liquefied ether in small quantities was required to move onward–or if condensing ether was still too difficult, one could compensate with an enormous amount of ether.

I didn’t have enough ether for the latter, so I compressed the ether within my core before releasing it into the World. Stretching it thin, I split it into dozens of streams resembling white noodles threaded with vibrant gold sparkles. It looked magnificent, but maintaining the shape of a few dozen thick strands of ether and soul energy was far from easy.

Beads of sweat trickled down my neck and cheeks, soaking into my already-drenched button-down shirt.

Moving the strands, I imagined them as hair as I started the next step. I gathered three strands and began with a normal braid. However, after the first crossover, I dropped the bottom strand to join the remaining strands. The dropped strand was replaced by the one directly behind it, creating an effect resembling a waterfall.

That part was simple–just as it was supposed to be–yet the pattern continued. The waterfall segment repeated once more. The strands moved at my will as the pattern unfolded: the top strand crossed over the middle, the bottom strand dropped, and a new one was picked up from beneath. The braid stayed close to the core and the Aspect Ring, curving gently toward the other side of the core. As I guided the strands, the dropped ones hung vertically, creating evenly spaced ribbons for later use.

Securing the second step with a mental clip, I split my mind further and moved to the other side of the core to repeat the process, guiding the braid to the exact point where the first ended. That one, too, was held in place, forming the foundation for the lattice.

To create the lattice, I reached for the dropped strands from the first braid and gently pulled them across the back of the core, weaving them over and under the dropped strands from the second braid, crisscrossing them like threads in a woven pattern.

Each crossing point had to be secured to keep the lattice tight, which put even more pressure on my mind. A headache crept across the back of my skull. Blood dripped to the ground, pouring from my nose, ears, and eyes as I forcefully split my mind further.

I couldn’t stop now–not when I was already at the final step. The Aspect Ring rumbled and rotated within the confines of Blastor Refinery’s technique, and my core pulsed, the fiery cracks across its surface opening like pores on skin. The core bled as I did, but we were one and the same–though one of us was greedier than the other.

Enduring the pain, I brought the ends of the waterfall braids together at the back, right where the woven lattice ended. Once aligned, I combined them into a single three-strand braid.

The initial process was complete, but the result was lackluster. Gentle tugs fixed small sections of the lattice in a failed attempt to make the pattern look fuller, but it still resembled a jumbled mess.

If not for the core reacting wildly to the braid of ether and soul energy, I would have torn it apart, dissolving the ether and starting over later. But that wasn’t necessary–I pushed the waterfall lattice into the core.

For a moment, the core resisted, but traces of the lattice latched onto the fiery cracks and seeped inside. What had been healing moments before cracked open again–torn apart as fiery streams from the Aspect Ring followed, amplifying Blastor Refinery’s effect.

The World expanded further, pulling a smile to my lips even as pain took over. My body collapsed before my willpower did, holding the soul-ether structure together until its last remnants disappeared, accelerating my growth a little more.

If I keep pushing like this, I can advance you further, Volix. Enough to turn you into a Guardian Beast soon. I thought, my smile widening.

I need far more energy than you assume. If you let me devour the rest of the Runic Heart, I could grow faster, but you don’t want my power.

“I want your power, but I have time,” I grumbled, feeling a bit less pleased. My strategy was more efficient in the long run.

Then again, the Elemental Phoenix was a strange Soulkin to have; his desire to regain his power was understandable. He was not wrong, but neither was I…in my own way.

I had time, yet it felt like I was running toward a dead end–like it was slipping through my fingers. Chaos reigned all around me. I was bound to be pulled into trouble soon enough. It had been that way for a long while, and it certainly wasn’t about to change.

Still, there was calming silence in the growth of my power.