As I stood tall, my gaze lost in the azure expanse above, Leo willed the Nimrods to their demise beside me. A serpent-like Nimrod, its eyes blazing with malevolent intent, lunged at me with deadly precision. I swayed my body sideways, a fluid motion born of instinct, and dodged the creature's strike. As I righted myself, our gazes locked in a fierce dance – the Nimrod's glare burning with fury, mine reflecting a calm resolve. With a swift arc, my sword sliced through the air, and the Nimrod's head tumbled to the earth, its body collapsing in a lifeless heap.
I turned to find Leo enthroned upon a gruesome pedestal of Nimrod corpses, his eyes meeting mine with a smile that spoke volumes of our unspoken bond. I returned the smile, a silent understanding passing between us – a testament to the unbreakable trust forged in the crucible of battle.
"Leo, you've ascended to Level 6 Echelon," I declared, my voice tinged with a solemn resolve. "You can hunt solo now. Don't feel obligated to hunt with me for a while. And don't even think about rejecting me." Leo nodded, a silent understanding passing between us, and vanished into the forest's depths.
I continued my hunt, the silence of the land broken only by the rustle of leaves beneath my feet. As dusk descended, I returned to my farm, where a flock of sheep awaited their evening feed. The simple task brought a fleeting calm, a respite from the turmoil within.
With nightfall, I sought the training grounds, my sword a silver whisper in the moonlight. I invoked Krudha Kaal, the fierce dance of blades, and let its rhythms consume me. The ground beneath my feet shattered, stones fragmenting into debris as my strikes intensified. Midnight found me seated in lotus position, cultivating the mana that coursed through my veins. My reserve was robust for a Level 12 Echelon, yet after three lifetimes of striving, I remained powerless – a paradox that gnawed at my soul.
But I knew I was inching forward, however imperceptibly. Pace was a luxury for the impatient, but determination to never surrender was the heartbeat of existence. And mine beat on, unyielded.
Five decades had etched their passage into our lives, and Leo had ascended to the precipice of greatness – Level 1 Echelon, with the cusp of Level 0 within grasp. Yet he lingered, anchored by an unyielding resolve. I knew his heart; he was adamant about not leaving me behind.
"Leo, there's a fleeting window left," I implored, my words laced with a gentle urgency. "Six days remain for the Dvara to open, and every soul who've peaked at Level 1 Echelon will ascend to Level 0 within its gates. Don't waste this chance on me. Venture into the next realm. I will follow, someday."
Leo's gaze met mine, unflinching. "Master, as I've said before, my life is woven into yours. My heart whispers to follow you, and I heed its call."
I probed further, seeking the truth beneath his resolve. "Leo, is it your decision to stay, or do you linger to please me?"
His voice was a quiet storm. "Master, it's my decision, untainted and true. I choose to stay with you."
A warmth spread within me, mingled with a tinge of sorrow. "You know, even after these many years, I remain ensnared in Level 12 Echelon. And still, you choose to walk this path with me. I thank you, sincerely, for these years of unwavering loyalty. And I promise you this – I will go with you to the next realm. I vow it."
Leo's smile was a subtle, resolute thing. "I'll hold you to it, Master."
The day the Dvara opened, a collective exodus unfolded. All the people I knew – Vale, Aaron, Micajah, Professor Ken – vanished into its luminous gates, ascending to Level 0 Echelon and the promise of the next realm. Yet, aberrant and inexplicable, the Abraham clan lingered, their crimes etched into the annals of time. I shelved the enigma for now, resolving to unravel it in the next cycle.
I ventured into the forest's depths, Leo a silent sentinel by my side, his gaze vigilant as he watched my back. As I trained, honing the swordsmanship of centuries, a peculiar phenomenon caught my eye – a colorless line, ethereal and subtle, flowing from Leo to me. The flock of sheep, too, radiated this invisible thread. It was intent, distilled into a visual whisper. I could decipher anger's intent, a fiery hue that burned like crimson embers, but this... this was different. Neutral, perhaps. Or something beyond my grasp.
Leo, unaware of the line's existence, answered my query with a shrug. I didn't press further, lost in the mystery.
My blade danced, a symphony of steel and intent. Krudha Kaal's form, Broken Blade Perseverance, simmered within me, but my hands remembered the fundamentals – the bedrock of swordsmanship I'd practiced for years. No one, I knew, could best me in the basics. And in that certainty lay the seed of something more – the next form of Broken Blade Perseverance, waiting to be forged.
The forest echoed with the whisper of my sword, a promise of things to come.
The Dvara had closed, and every Level 1 Echelon hunter had vanished into the next realm's promise. Only Level 2 and other echelons lingered in this world, Leo an anomaly among them. Elder Primordium now boasted 11 Level 2 Echelon hunters, successors to the departed members.
I ventured into Aether Haven's bustling town, groceries on my mind. With Leo by my side, we entered a quaint restaurant, the aroma of sizzling steak drawing us in. Leo devoured his meal with gusto; I savored each bite, the flavors dancing on my palate. The bill paid, we strolled back to our farm, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow.
As we reached the sheep's pen, I swung the gate open, and the flock spilled out, eager to graze. I guided them into the mountain's embrace, Leo assisting with gentle nudges. The sheep dispersed, feasting on the lush grass, while Leo and I settled beside them, watching the serene tableau unfold. The mountain's tranquility enveloped us, a fleeting peace in the rhythm of life.
We strolled back to our farm, the evening's calm a stark contrast to the storm within. I sought the training grounds, my blade a familiar weight in my hand. The night air echoed with the whisper of steel, my swordsmanship a relentless pursuit until midnight's dark whisper claimed the hour. Leo watched in silence, his presence a steady heartbeat, before retreating to the shed's quiet refuge. I followed, exhaustion etched into my bones.
Thirty years unfurled, a tapestry woven from the threads of sweat and steel. Day and night blurred into a singular obsession – training. My hands, raw and bleeding, testament to the fervor that consumed me. Life contracted to a loop of unyielding discipline, a cycle of honing and refining.
I paused, my gaze lifting to the night sky's vast expanse, seeking answers in the star-studded void. The stars watched, unblinking, as I stood at the precipice of something undefined, my soul echoing with the quiet question – what next?
"I'm going to die today," I whispered, the words a silent shroud around my heart. Leo, standing sentinel beside me, shed tears – he knew my lifespan's thread was fusing, ending today. Jangre, with a paltry 56 years, had wrenched 100 more from fate by ascending two levels. I, trapped in Level 12 Echelon, couldn't grasp that reprieve. Minutes ticked, mortal countdown begun.
I returned to the farm, stood before my flock, Leo a shadow at my side. With deliberate calm, I opened the pen, freeing the sheep. They spilled out, yet lingered, gazing at me with eyes that held admiration – or something deeper. I raised my sword, invoking Krudha Kaal's wild dance.
Countless colorless intents swirled from flock and Leo, like spectral threads. Then, a miracle – blue hues bloomed at each intent's end. Understanding dawned, a truth I'd never grasped.
I performed Krudha Kaal for the last time, my sword slicing air in a final, fervent arc.
***
Leo knelt before Jangre's lifeless form, the man's body still upright, frozen in the final posture of life. The flock of sheep bowed, as if in reverence. "My King," Leo declared, his voice a solemn hymn, "even in death, you reign as our king – a king who harbored no hate, who pursued his dreams without bruising the world. We, who held you in awe, proclaim you Shepherd King. You will forever rule our hearts, a sovereign of compassion and resolve."
The silence was a shroud, woven from grief and adoration. Leo's words hung in the air, an elegy to a king who'd led with a shepherd's gentle strength.
Jangre's lifeless body stirred, his sword rising skyward as if drawn by an unseen hand. He stood motionless, a statue of defiance against mortality. Leo and the flock of sheep wept, tears streaming down their faces – witnesses to a miracle born of resolve.
A lifetime of unyielding determination, of hardships endured and trials overcome, coursed through Jangre's corpse like a spectral current. The body, a vessel honed by centuries of steel and sweat, obeyed a final command. Countless battles, endless nights of training, and the granite persistence that had defined him coalesced into this last act. The lifeless form moved, autonomous and eerie, a testament to a will that refused to surrender.
The sword pointed heavenward, Jangre's posture a defiant whisper: I endure.
***
I found myself plunged once more into the river of darkness, its icy waters swirling like a vortex around me. Countless spectral hands stretched forth, fingers clawing for purchase, but as in the cycle before, they faltered, retreating into the depths like whispers lost to the wind.
Then, my body catapulted forward, hurtling faster than light toward a radiance that blazed like a supernova. The universe narrowed to a blinding point, and my vision imploded into darkness.
My third return.