Crimson Ascension

The sun glowed in the sky, its rays of light piercing Draven's eyelids and welcoming him back. He stood up groggily, body sore as if he had slept for days on end—perhaps not far from the truth—and looked at his surroundings.

Dead trees everywhere, cracked and leafless. Instead of the moss, slimy shadows stretched in every direction, licking the ground and crawling up on the dead vegetation. Searching. Where the light could not reach, Draven found a pair of wrathful yellow eyes—burning orbs filled with a promise of violence and the thrill of a hunt.

"I know you are here," the creature snarled through gritted fangs. "You condemned us all to death, fools. The price you will pay shall be death!" It roared, the sound shattering the trees around it as a wave of shadows blanketed the surrounding area, so barely any rays of light reached the ground.

"You're back…" Elevalein whispered as sweat dripped down his forehead, trailing a line and stinging his eye. He directed his Presence at Draven, a question unasked. "You're… still Lesser Eminence?"

"No. No. No, no, no. That can't be right!" Finn mumbled, eyes wide with shock. "You were there for five days. There should have been enough time."

"It was."

Draven stood up, cracking his neck. A hand reached up, feeling for the scar of a rune on his face, but found nothing. He smiled, infused hexion on his body, and walked out of the boundary that hid them from the Ruler of Shadows.

"The only one dying today will be you," Draven said, his voice loud and steady.

The hexbeast snapped its head toward the sound, a predatory grin parting its lips. "Last time you were lucky, little Sovran—lucky to even draw blood. This time, I am ready."

"So are we."

The Ruler of Shadows roared, shadows spreading everywhere, painting the trees and ground in an inky black that allowed no light to pass through. The rose in the sky, enveloping the surrounding in a dome-like structure that reeked of the creature's authority—its Presence. The Domain of an Ascendance.

It was the first time Draven saw it. In the cave, he had blacked out at a crucial time, only coming back to his senses after the fight had been settled. But now, he had the time to examine it, as the hexbeast appeared to be in no rush to end him. Shadows and will filled the air, a mixture that undoubtedly sped the creation of Arts and the emission of hexion, but also allowed its caster to expand their essence into the outside world.

Inside one's soul, their will was absolute. That same law seemed to apply inside a Domain. No wonder the divide between Eminence and Ascendance was vast.

The hexion in the air trembled, and with little notice, a spike of shadow burst from the ground, striking Draven in the chest. He barely dodged it, avoiding being impaled. Blood trailed down his side where the spike had grazed his ribs.

Twofold Amplification!

He snarled, allowing the runic circuit inscribed in his astra to flare with power. It absorbed the refined hexion inside of his reserve, amplifying its power, doubling its strength as the energy became berserk. Violent. What had once been the peaceful waters of a lake became the currents of a stream.

Hexion emerged from his skin, following a pre-determined will as it took the shape of armour around his body. Crimson like blood, crystalline like ruby, it wrapped around his limbs until the Hemomorph's Mantle was complete.

Draven infused his body with the amplified hexion and launched himself forward. He ducked a tendril of shadow that tried to wrap itself around him, taking a spike that cracked the scales on his leg. It cracked, but did not break, for the same hexion that poured out of the runic circuit forged the armour.

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He got close, and the Ruler pounced forward to meet with him with a roar. Draven clenched his fist, knocking his arm back for a punch. The hexbeast did the same. Their punches met, crimson armour meeting black fur.

Draven was blasted back as if hit by a boulder falling from a mountain, his feet digging trenches on the ground. The armour shattered around his right arm, the bones breaking like twigs under a power too great to contend.

A smile parted his face.

Before he even realized it, the wound on his arm was gone, mended by his pulsating heart. What would have taken him moments and an extensive amount of hexion took him less than a second and half of the hexion to mend.

The runic circuit on his astra burned, doubling the efficiency of the hexion spent. Doubling the strength of his will, amplifying his might in a way he only remembered through Morph's memories. He felt stronger, more resilient. Even his Arts were strengthened, but it wasn't enough to match the hexbeast.

Not even close.

Instead of despairing, Draven unfolded his Presence like an avalanche of power, tendrils of influence spreading like unseen vines. What was already vast, strengthened two times. He encircled the Domain, compressing it with his ethereal hands, trying to suppress it as Morgan and Orun had. The sphere got smaller, but did not disappear. The enemy was a Median Ascendance, after all.

The Ruler's eyes constricted in surprise, taking Draven seriously for the first time. In an instant, he vanished from sight.

Draven's heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. He jumped blindingly to the side. Where is it? Something grabbed him by the leg, lifted him in the air, and slammed him against the ground with enough force to shatter it. He gasped in pain and surprise as Morph mended the damage before he left the ground.

It's not enough! The serpent hissed in alarm. You have to increase it, Aiden.

We can't handle more than Twofold Amplification. Draven shook off the confusion from the hit.

If you don't do it, we will die! Morph protested.

The Ruler lifted him again, but Draven clenched his fist, congealing ten spikes around the creature's neck and sending them barreling to take its life. The constructs pierced the hexbeast, causing it to scream in more rage than pain.

It threw Draven against the ground, cracking his armour. The Ruler of Shadows opened its arms wide, claws glistening amidst the shadows. "Weakling, you dare strike me?"

Draven picked himself up from the ground, reforming the Hemomorph's Mantle in the areas it had cracked. He couldn't afford to stay in one place, not when the creature could teleport, so he ran at it. If it wanted a fight, Draven would give it one.

Trifold Amplification.

The berserk hexion flowing inside his veins became molten metal. His muscles constricted, each step taking him further than before. The Hemomorph Mantle whined, the crimson ruby it was made of turned into a darker shade. It was painful. His body couldn't handle the strain—for every movement, a portion of hexion was spent to mend the damages to his physical vessel—but Draven had no choice.

The Ruler was stronger than he was, vastly so. It still took the battle as no more than amusement to itself, delivering blows it knew were not enough to take Draven's life. It was playing with its food. But Draven was no food. He was no prey.

He shot forward, willing crimson chains to form around the hexbeast's ankles. Taking one step to the side, he dodged a blade of shadows aimed at his right arm. Ducking low, he dodged another one meant for his neck and reached the beast.

The Ruler of Shadows roared, exploding the chains as a wave of darkness poured out of it, but Draven took the attack head-on. Rather than let the armour absorb it, he recalled it into the Az'Tenri Circlet with a thought, and basked in the pain, in the wounds that peppered his body.

One of his arms went flying. Holes riddled his body as shadow spears burst forth. A blade took his neck. Draven's vision went black for a moment. His heart would have faltered had it not been destroyed already, but he didn't panic. Amidst death, riddled with wounds no one else could survive, he uttered a last chuckle.

Fourfold… Amplification! The cloud of blood and broken limbs that was his body reformed in the blink of an eye, pulled together by the force of his will. Draven stepped forward, his skin cracking open, bones breaking under the strain the amplified hexion put him through, and punched.

The moment his knuckles touched the Ruler of Shadow's black fur, Dyad Vessel poured out like molten metal, eager to exact revenge.