Chapter 1186: A Well-deserved Beating

Chapter 1186: A Well-deserved Beating

"You're still alive? Let me see."

The Thousandflame Eccentric sat at the same spot as before, locked in the same position, holding the same leaf. It was as though a month hadn't passed since she hurled him into that pit of despair to reforge his core. Kruta stuffed down the choice words that were always bubbling just beneath the surface.

"You don't have to sound so surprised every time," Kruta sighed as he rotated his cultivation base.

Steel and flames coursed through his body, fueled by his Middle D-grade Cosmic Core. An illusory flame appeared on his head, spreading down his torso and into his hands. Kruta felt his muscles straining with barely repressed destruction, and the burning spirit of his ancestor appearing behind him exuded a matching ferocity.

Kruta had to admit that while staying by his Master's side meant constant suffering, the gains were more than a match. The path she'd illuminated, or rather kicked open, held boundless potential while perfectly matching his heart. Even the benefits brought from the seal of the Indomitable Court paled before the rebirth she'd guided him through.

"Little Candle, when did you become so confident?" the mad Supremacy grinned as she stuffed the leaf into her mouth.

"Please, just call me"

The universe shook, and Kruta saw his life flash by when a tendril of living flames flashed past him, entering the mountain range he'd spent the last few months in. Space collapsed, the Dao unraveled, and the Cosmos cried as a piece of its fabric was forever lost to the monstrous conflagration. Kruta groaned and fell to his knees, his memory repainted with fire and fate's culmination.

That wasn't a controlled demolition of his training ground. A sliver of energy had escaped through his Master's teeth while chewing her treat. Thank the ancestors she hadn't felt peckish while he was undergoing his breakthrough. His ancestral spirit collapsed, retreating into the depths of his Soul Aperture. If it were possible, his ancestor would have dug a pit and hid inside.

Who'd ever heard of a soul burning with the flames of war being afraid of fire?

"Ah? What's that?"

"Little Candle," Kruta said with resignation. "Please call me Little Candle."

He hated the nickname he was given after his [Thousandwar Flame] was awakened. At that time, he'd only been able to release the flames on the top of his head. His dear Master had laughed for ten straight minutes. Meanwhile, he'd been halfway through death's door, greeted by ancestors adorning pitying smiles. Then he was dragged back, denied the final escape from his nightmare.

"So weird," Thousandflames scoffed, oblivious to the destruction she'd caused. Her face had gained a mesmerizing blush as she swallowed the terrifying treasure. "That's the stuff."

"So, about the small vacation master promised No, I mean seclusion to incorporate Master's teachings."

"Ah? A break?" Thousandflames said, her eyes going apart while scratching her ear. "That doesn't sound like me. And why would you need a break? The fact that you're acting so confident can only mean my efforts have borne fruit. We should look into intensifying your training. You're not pushing yourself hard enough if you can't feel the shadow of death creeping closer."New novel chapters are published on

As expected, avoiding disaster was all but an impossibility with his Master. There was no point in complaining or railing against her broken promises. She wouldn't mind the outburstin fact, she'd welcome it. However, her rewards for 'showing mettle' still haunted his dreams. He couldn't believe he longed for his grandma's punishments. What was hog duty to being flung into the horrifying realms this scourge had collected throughout the Eternal Storm?

"Actually, training will have to wait," the beautiful orc said with regret, igniting a small flame of hope against Kruta's better judgment. "We're picking up little Iz. I can't have you looking like a toasted rump; it will reflect poorly on me."

"Ah?" Kruta said, finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. "I passed?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself. Only the ancestors know whether your fate is strong enough to glom onto the family," Thousandflames scoffed. "However, something's changed, and we have to hurry up."

"Is it the trial?"

"Your little friend is messing with fate," Thousandflames grunted, a hint of displeasure appearing on the eccentric's face. "He stole half a year from the little miss, and fate's still in flux from his meddling. He's lucky his little region is protected by the Ruthless Heavens."

Kruta's face paled, knowing all too well the fate of those who displeased this maniac. The penal colony he woke up in only represented a corner of the gallery of suffering in this planet-sized Cosmic Vessel.

"I'm sure he had his reasons! I even bet it was on accident. Zac's just as dumb as me. What does he know about messing with fate?"

"Whatever the reason, we need to leave ahead of schedule. We can't stay on the sidelines, or fate might slip through our fingers. I'm sure the others feel the same way."

"Others?"

"Some joined the party early. Others have their own ideas, hoping to use side doors to grab onto fate's tail," the orc shrugged as she got to her feet. She stretched, creating a mesmerizing ripple of chiseled muscles. "How do I look?"

"Perfection," Kruta whispered, his breath swept away.

"This old lady's still got it," Thousandflames laughed. "If you only knew how many chieftains were running after my skirts back in the day. Maybe I should visit a few of them when this is all over."

"The Red Sun Council was rooted out during the war," Kruta sighed, a flare of grief and indignation flickering in his chest.

Iz's head tilted in thought, and Kruta almost cried with relief when she nodded. At the same time, Kruta felt he'd lost something as her expression subtly changed. The distance between them suddenly seemed as great as the endless steppes.

"I'll bring you to Zecia. You will also join my subordinates in their training over the upcoming year to better prepare for fate's culmination. In return, you'll avail yourself inside the trial, should I require assistance."

"Of course! Thank you, Mistress Tayn! Kruta will work hard!"

Kruta shrugged off the disconcerting feeling, his heart singing with anticipation. He'd crossed the hurdle, and he only needed to endure one more year. By then, he should be strong enough to give Zac a well-deserved punch.

----------

"Not bad," Ponel said without looking up from the parchment before him. "You actually earned yourself a Four Star Bounty. I didn't think you had it in you."

"What! Faceless Monarchs are coming for me? I didn't even kill that many. Well, maybe things got a bit out of hand in the end, but that wasn't completely my fault," Ogras said, his excuses giving him the unsettling feeling he was turning into that brute back home. He pushed down the terrifying notion, flashing an ingratiating smile. "Surely it would only require a word from Your Excellence to remove a kill order?"

"You're right."

"My sincere"

"1,474 C-grade Nexus Coins, or treasures of equivalent value if you prefer."

Ogras blankly looked at the youthful assassin for a few breaths before shaking his head. "Nevermind. The pressure will help sharpen my instincts."

"So it will," Ponel agreed. "I received word from your benefactor. The deadline changed, and you're running out of time."

"I am?" Ogras frowned, his intuition telling him this was all because of that troublemaker. "How do I get home?"

"Here," Ponel said, throwing over a crystal and a teleportation Token.

Ogras scanned the list of names and locations, not recognizing a single one. "This is?"

"Targets. The kind of people who would make perfect additions to the little underworld you're building," Ponel said with a pointed look.

"Uh, you saw that?" Ogras coughed. "I'm simply"

"I don't care. It'll hold impressive power, but it will forever be bound by strict rules and restrictions. One misstep and you'll be dragged under," the assassin said. "How can that headache compare to a simple stab?"

'Easy to be picky when you're sitting at the top of the ladder,' Ogras inwardly complained, though he didn't show any displeasure on his face.

"I've had one of my disciples place a Teleportation Token and a piece of my technique in each of their Spatial Rings. You'll be back in your neighborhood by the time you've made your way through the list, having fully digested what you seized from the Heart Burial Domain. Don't dally. The targets are very tricky, some having eluded capture for millennia."

"Uh, what if I can't find them? Or if they get themselves killed before I reach them?"

"Then I guess you're out of luck," Ponel shrugged. "You can always try to get to the next target if one slips through the net. You'll probably have to rob a couple of factions to afford the teleportation fees, though. The distance between each jump is quite big for a Hegemon."

"Fine. These are all Heretical Cultivators with great fell karma. They must have massive bounties placed on their heads," Ogras said, his eyes gleaming.

"Of course. 1,474 C-grade Nexus Coins, to be exact," Ponel nodded, his next words stifling the mad laugh already escaping Ogras's lips. "Don't worry, I've already claimed the bounties in your name. So work hard."

"You've" Ogras wheezed, looking wide-eyed at the crude doodle of a fountain held up by his Master.

"I can finally have my winter garden renovated," Ponel said, a dangerous gleam appearing in his eyes. "You better not mess up my budget."

"Your budget? Wait, the bounties exceed a thousand C-grade Coins? Just how powerful are these heretics?"

"It should be within your capabilities so long as you and your flag improve fast enough," Ponel said as the Teleportation Token triggered in Ogras's hand, dragging him into a spatial rift.

The extremely fast teleportation was agonizing despite the resilience awarded from sacrificing half the Heart Burial Domain. Ogras didn't dare make Ponel the target of his bellyful of anger, afraid the assassin's supernatural senses would pick up on it. So he could only settle for the next best thing.

One more year before he could thank Zac with a well-deserved stab.