NOVEL NEXT Chapter 109: Winds of War
Throughout the next hours of the day, the station buzzed with an unusual energy, as if a grand ceremony were on the horizon. Every corner was meticulously tended to, dust swept away, structures reinforced, and every sign of disorder erased with almost reverent precision. Merchants and non-official personnel hurriedly packed their goods and belongings, loading them into colossal transport vehicles known as Floatspires, massive, half-ship-like constructs that hovered just above the ground, their engines humming with restrained power. Amidst this flurry of activity, each Astro team meticulously polished their towering weapon mechanisms, ensuring that every piece of machinery gleamed with readiness before loading them into their sleek Aether Glides.
As the golden light of daybreak stretched across the horizon, the southern forces had already begun their departure. Nyxander stood beside the Aether Glide designated for his team, his sharp gaze scanning the shifting crowds, searching for a familiar presence. His attention snapped to a familiar voice, a soft yet firm call that carried an unmistakable authority. Turning his head, he spotted Lumina conversing with Seraphina and Dunstan, her posture poised but her eyes restless.
"Stay strong and don't overdo it. Never underestimate what lies ahead," Lumina advised, her hand resting gently on Seraphina's right shoulder, a gesture both reassuring and commanding.
"I'll be sure to remember that," Seraphina responded with a nod, though she knew Lumina's attention was divided. Her words were directed at her, but her focus subtly drifted past her, toward Nyxander, standing just a few meters away.
Seraphina offered a final wave before stepping into her Aether Glide, the doors sealing behind her with a soft hiss. "Wait for my arrival," she called as the transport lifted off, its engines exhaling a steady hum.
"Sure," Lumina replied, though her voice was quieter now, her eyes momentarily locking with Nyxander's. A fleeting exchange of unspoken understanding passed between them, one neither needed to voice.
A faint smile touched Nyxander's lips, only to be interrupted by Karl's booming voice from behind.
"Boss, it's time to leave!" he called, his head poking out from the entrance of the Aether Glide, impatience laced in his tone.
Nyxander exhaled, tearing his gaze away. "Oh, alright, let's move."
With that, he stepped into the craft, half of his body still lingering outside as he cast one last glance at Lumina. The Aether Glide trembled slightly before levitating a few inches off the ground, its thrusters humming with restrained energy.
At the front, Flame Astro and Mountain Astro led the convoy, their Aether Glides cutting through the evening breeze like silent sentinels. Behind them, the colossal Floatspires carried their burdens, cradling supplies and baggage with mechanical grace. Merchants and non-official personnel moved in the center, their presence a reminder of the weight of what they left behind. And at the very rear, Nyxander's Aether Glide followed, a final guardian watching as they crossed the station's threshold, slipping beyond its towering walls and vanishing into the vast, waiting distance.
Their journey unfolded with seamless swiftness, the desolate land stretching endlessly before them, yet their passage remained undetected, thanks to the intricate mechanisms of the Aether Glide and the silent guardianship of the Floatspires. These marvels of celestial engineering wove an invisible shroud around their energy, ensuring they remained ghosts to the unknown forces lurking beyond the horizon.
As they pressed southward, the landscape morphed into a tableau of towering mountains and colossal rock formations, their jagged silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the fading light. The shifting sands curled and parted beneath them as they navigated the treacherous slopes, their path a delicate dance of precision and control. The evening, once ablaze with the last embers of daylight, finally surrendered to the encroaching darkness, a vast cosmic tapestry unfurling above them, where countless stars flickered like distant whispers of forgotten gods.
Under Hung's command, their movement drew to a gradual halt. The Flame Astro team ceased their advance, followed closely by the Mountain Astro Aether Glides, their silent retreat mirrored by the Floatspires drifting to a standstill. Merchants and unofficial travelers, weary from the journey, disembarked to prepare for the night. Tents were swiftly arranged in disciplined rows, their canopies rising like ghostly sentinels under the moon's gaze. Within the Floatspires, merchants retrieved parcels of dried and preserved provisions, their hands moving with practiced efficiency.
The wind, now a restless wanderer, swept across the encampment in chilled gusts, carrying fine grains of sand that clung to exposed skin and slipped into the folds of fabric. In response, the merchants and non-officials wrapped their scarves tighter around their faces, shielding themselves from nature's quiet assault.
No fires were kindled, such warmth would be a beacon for unwanted eyes. Instead, the watchful teams stationed around the perimeter ensured that everything remained in order, their presence a silent reassurance against the unknown.
At the rear of the encampment, where Nyxander and his team rested, the night's serenity was a stark contrast to the tension coiling beneath the surface. Reclining atop his Aether Glide, Nyxander lay back with his head cushioned by his palms, his gaze fixed upon the celestial spectacle above. The stars, shimmering like scattered jewels upon the velvet expanse of the heavens, reflected in his keen eyes, lost in thought, until an unmistakable sensation rippled through him.
A familiar energy signature brushed against his senses like a whisper carried on the wind, a presence lingering just beyond the veil of shadows. His posture shifted in an instant. From stillness to intent, he sat up, his piercing gaze sweeping over the distant terrain, locking onto the source with unwavering focus. A moment passed. Then another.
With measured ease, he rose to his feet, his fingers idly grazing the fabric of his attire. A decision settled in his mind. Without a sound, Nyxander shed his top and trousers, folding them meticulously atop the Aether Glide. The Nullpoint responded to his will, weaving a seamless fabric that draped around his waist, flowing down to his knees like a shadow spun from nothingness.
Then, like a phantom slipping through the night, he leaped down, his movements fluid and noiseless as he strode into the unseen. The desert swallowed his presence, the sands shifting beneath his steps without protest.
Unbeknownst to the others, at this very moment, Hung had also departed, scouting the path ahead, ensuring their journey would resume without unforeseen obstacles.
Nyxander strode forward, the night wind whispering against his form, carrying dust in swirling eddies around him. His steps were deliberate, his presence commanding, as the vast expanse stretched before him. The further he walked from the encampment, the more his body began to shift, expanding to its true form. Muscles stretched, bones adjusted, and his stature rose like a titan awakening from slumber, until he stood at his full 22 feet.
His piercing gaze swept across the desolate terrain, searching for the origin of the familiar energy that had lured him here. Then, without warning, an attack descended from above, sleek, curved blades, their very essence woven from void fabric itself, tore through the air like fangs of the abyss.
Nyxander reacted instantly, launching into a somersault mid-air, his form twisting fluidly to the right. The blades struck where he had stood a heartbeat ago, carving deep into the sandy ground, leaving a gash of nothingness in their wake. Landing with feline grace, he barely had a moment to regain his footing before a titanic figure materialized behind him."Lexis of Void Step: Traverse."
Throwing a fist, thick with power, roared toward the center of his spine like a meteor set on obliteration. But Nyxander's instincts flared, and before the strike could connect, his will surged.
"Shroud Manipulation: Void Crystallization."nThe void behind him solidified in an instant, turning into an impenetrable barrier. The attacker's fist halted mid-motion, hanging in the air, as realization flickered in their widened eyes.
A voice, deep and commanding, rumbled across the battlefield. "What are you doing here? You are part of the clan."
Nyxander turned, his gaze unwavering as he now faced a towering figure pointing a solidified void blade at him. The air between them crackled with tension, the sheer pressure of their energies causing the very ground to tremble.
But Nyxander did not waver. Instead, he exhaled, a hint of amusement dancing in his tone.
"How many days have passed that you fail to recognize a familiar voice, a familiar stature? Even your night vision falters?" His gaze shifted between them, his smirk barely concealed. "Onyxelle. Everok."
The two giants stiffened, their expressions flickering from hostility to sheer disbelief. The one behind him adjusted their stance, stepping forward as if to take a clearer look.
Then, like mist dispersing at dawn, the void blade in Onyxelle's grip dissolved into nothingness. Their abilities faded, vanishing as the weight of realization settled over them.
"Young Void Archon," they uttered in unison, their voices laced with both reverence and shock.
"Where have you been? You just suddenly vanished from the clan." Onyxelle said, her voice, once as sharp and unyielding as a warrior's blade, now softened, threaded with the quiet tremor of a clan member burdened by worry.