Symbiotic Ascension : A Progression Fantasy Adventure

"Orc factories," Diamanes repeated with a snarky smile. "That's what you need to target. Supply lines are important, sure, but they'll only give Munirp a few days' worth of breathing space. It won't win them the war."

Glenn almost laughed out loud. "Yeah, but it's better than going on a suicide mission into the enemy's ranks. We don't even know where these 'orc factories' are!"

Lucian rubbed his chin, pondering. "Well, if we follow the flow of reinforcements, we will eventually find the way they came from, but..."

"It's a risky bet," Milena completed his sentence. "Furthermore, every minute we spend on that mission will lead to more deaths on Munirp's side."

"I like it!" Sahro's prosthesis crackled with red lightning. "Like a blade into the enemy's wound, we charge and crush their heart!"

"Strike once, and strike true..." Liara muttered while looking down at the Observer. The map fluctuated slightly as Munirp pushed into the breach Glenn, Lucian, and the others had created. If there was one moment to strike, it was certainly this one.

"We either move now, or never," Lucian stated, his crown shining a little brighter. "They'll assuredly call back their powerful fighters to try and oppose us. And as strong as we are, I can hardly see us fighting an unlimited number of Saint Orcs."

"I can't agree more." Glenn cracked his neck and grinned. "Nelg will be so disappointed to hear he missed this. We're going to reap souls like farmers in a field."

"He's still on that side project of his?" Milena asked curiously.

"Yeah—"

"No time to dilly-dally, I said," Lucian gestured as he abruptly pulled Glenn and Milena forward, interrupting them. "Glenn, call your dragon, I'll hitch a ride."

"Who said you could take Liara's spot—?" Glenn tried to protest, but Pebble jumped off his shoulder, turning into his massive, draconic form. Lucian and Sahro jumped on his back, patting the beast's scaly back. Glenn and Liara exchanged a glance and a sigh before going their separate ways. Whitey took Liara and Milena on his back, before soaring graciously. Pebble roared and sent the black sand flying with one powerful flap of his wings.

Refinement and sheer power flew side by side above the bloody battlefield of the Ink Dunes, Munirp's colors stretching as far as they could see. Even if they couldn't stand a chance against Glenn and or his teammates, Munirp's army was still a professional, skilled one, and they wouldn't let go of the chance they'd been offered. Already, Glenn could see the soldiers building temporary forts and strengthening their defenses in preparation for holding a siege.

Whitey flew straight up in the sky, closely followed by Pebble. Glenn looked back to see a composed Lucian and a slightly tense Sahro, both clenching the dragon's scales for dear life.

'Liara got the right idea. If we want to attack the Celestial Gods' territory, we need to do so as covertly as possible. The second they understand what our goal is, they'll send reinforcements and evacuate the facilities.'

"Like Liara said, strike once and strike true!" Diamanes laughed madly, his voice drowned by the whistling wind.

Lucian tapped on Glenn's shoulder, shouting. "Follow my directions! I know of a good observation point!"

Glenn nodded, directing Pebble to take the lead over Whitey. The two winged beasts were so high in the sky that they would look like birds to the unaware.

Eventually, the night fell, and they arrived at the observation point. A crumbled tower of pale stone bricks, half-buried under the sand. It reminded Glenn of that tomb they'd explored during their first expedition into the Ink Dunes.

'Javier was still with us back then...' He clenched his fists tightly. The last piece of information related to the silent hunter was that his kin, the Pale Sons, had all moved and disappeared into the Ink Dunes. Where and to what end, it remained a mystery. Even after months of fighting and scouring the desert, Glenn could find no trace of a single diaphanous-skinned mongrel.

He's either dead or being creepy somewhere. Whatever. Right now, it'd be good to focus on the right thing,' Diamanes jeered. Glenn shook the thoughts out of his head and led Pebble to land beside the tower. Whitey graciously dropped off his passengers before soaring back into the sky, scouting for enemies.

Blam!

The door crumbled into dust after Sahro kicked it mercilessly. The Black Heir entered without an ounce of fear.

"It's clear!" They heard from outside. Lucian whistled and strolled in with his hands in his pockets. Milena rubbed the corner of her eyes and sighed.

"I'll stay there and keep a lookout," she said. "Go see what you can find from the top of the tower."

Glenn nodded. "Sure. Liara?"

Liara shook her head and pointed at the tower. "I want to check what's inside this. I... I have a strange feeling about it."

"Suit yourself." Glenn shrugged and used Gravity Manipulation to pull himself to the top of the tower. Liara and Milena watched him rise before chuckling lightly. Liara shook her head and entered the structure, welcomed by a thick cloud of dust. Black sand was seeping through the cracks every second, a few rays of moonlight breaking in to light her way.

There were old, shattered crystals embedded in the ceilings, dull and dusty.

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

"I'm going up! Maybe I'll find a seat for my royal bottom," Lucian laughed.

Sahro rolled his eyes and made his prosthesis crackle with red lightning. "I'll check the underground. This place is old, too old."

Liara smirked. 'I can't agree more. Still, why do I feel something from this place...?'

There was no furniture, nor remnants of one. Liara did try to give a closer look at one of the cracked crystals in the ceiling, but they turned into powder when she touched them. So far, the entry didn't seem to have anything of note, but then, it wasn't like they were exploring some ancient castle.

It was just a random tower lost in the middle of the desert. Still, Liara couldn't help feeling curious. Perhaps the others managed to find something interesting?

***

Sahro coughed, clearing out the dust from his lungs. Raijin suddenly popped out of his shadow, yawning. The fox lazily took a look at his surroundings before sinking back into the Black Heir's shadow. The underground floor was practically filled to the brim with sand. Sahro clicked his tongue and waved his hand lightly. The sand exploded before him, flying to the corners of the room. It would stay there as long as he maintained his Primal Aura.

"I expected a monster's nest... Isn't there something I can sharpen my blade on?" he muttered to himself, his eyes searching through the room for anything interesting. His eyebrows creased when he noticed a half-buried shriveled root. He picked it up without thinking, his hair suddenly standing on end. A shiver made his entire body tremble. Sahro unsheathed his sword, his Primal Aura bursting out sharply.

The room seemed to darken, the light coming off his Primal Aura dulling. The black sand rose into a humanoid shape, gaining skin, clothes, and recognizable features. Sahro almost lashed out at the apparition, but it ignored him. It was a man with skin as black as coal, the tip of his ears so sharp they looked like they'd been carved with a knife. He wore the same clothes as Sahro, the traditional desert garments that allowed for maximum coverage of the skin, protecting it from the harsh sun.

'A Dark Elf,' realized Sahro. The race he turned into whenever he got his powers fired up. These last months, that question had been plaguing his mind. Was he a Black Heir, or a Dark Elf? Were Black Heirs all Dark Elves, but just... sealed? Or was he an exception, a strange mutation that came from being not a pureblooded Black Heir? He brushed the thoughts away, pushing them back into the depths of his mind, just like he had been doing since he first turned into a Dark Elf.

So far, as long as he didn't overuse his Primal Aura, his features returned to their old ones. A tanned skin, slightly dark, but nowhere as black as the Dark Elf before him, and perfectly normal ears.

Speaking of the Dark Elf that just appeared out of the black sand, he was doing something strange. The man of sand moved around the room, ignoring the sand accumulated or Sahro's presence. It knelt before the place where Sahro extracted the root from and began digging a hole.

Sahro watched him for a while, silent, before hesitantly sheathing his sword. He approached with careful steps, the shriveled root still in his hands. The man of sand looked up, his eyes as black as the sand filling up the room. He opened his mouth, sand leaking off with a soft noise.

"Faltun...qidh...na als...haj...ara..." whispered the man of sand as he reached for the root with a trembling hand. Sahro stood frozen, his heart beating madly. The man of sand collapsed the second his fingers touched the shriveled plant, returning to nothingness.

Sahro gasped heavily, clenching the root tightly.

"...May the... plant... save us?" he repeated, translating the meaning. This was the Black Heir's language, but old. Ancient. Something he could barely understand. Close to what he learned, and yet so different. Sahro stepped back in awe, the root still in his hand. "By the Ancestors... what was that?"

He had to speak to others about this. Maybe they would have found something similar in the tower!

***

"♪The Devil's Hand...hmm, hmm,♪" Lucian hummed to himself, his hands in his pockets as he strolled around the tower. There are quite a few upper floors, a dozen maybe, but each of them was as empty as his savings funds after he helped Satidipug and Eari's survivors build a new, smaller town. He had even checked the walls out of curiosity, since many civilizations had the habit of engraving things on them, but there was nothing.

He checked his Observer while walking. From what he could gather with the red and blue dots marking the enemy and ally forces, respectively, the Celestial Gods had already patched up the hole in their defenses. Without his presence or the others to put pressure on some other parts of the front, Munirp was starting to be pushed back.

But it was fine. Lucian trusted the soldiers and their officers to do their job.

This was with the Celestial Gods was truly an unusual thing. Since both sides employed different races—humans for Munirp, obviously, and Orcs for the Celestial Gods (with the occasional rogue necromancers, criminals who escaped from Munirp's law—it was impossible to use standard tactics. Lucian had read in the Royal Library's records about past wars, and all spoke about the importance of information, spies, and networks of informants. Diplomacy was also a huge part of stabilizing territories, and making sure everyone got what they wanted, be they the winners or the losers. Not that Munirp ever lost.

It was the most powerful nation in the world, after all. At least it was, until the Celestial Gods came into play. A nation composed of criminals who somehow managed to get the Orcs to fight for them. Lucian stopped before a window and leaned on it, looking at the twin moons with a hint of a smile.

He'd also read about the Orcs. There wasn't much he didn't read about. That was the weight of being the Crown Prince, after all. He needed to know more than everyone, in order to be certain of making the correct decisions.

Ranging from light to dark green in skin color, Orcs are not all predisposed to become powerful, violent warriors. Sure, ninety-five percent of them are, but some are different. Smarter than their peers, keeners, more vicious too. But these odd exceptions rarely survived the bloody Orcish lifestyle. Composed of eating meat, training, fighting, and eating more meat, it was rather simple.

Historically, the Orcs always lived in tribes, scattered everywhere, be it the Western Continent, where Munirp was, or the Eastern Continent, the Ink Dunes, and what lay beyond it. It was the first time in history that the Orcs, these brutes, were weaponized into war machines that knew of war tactics. They'd been turned into a proper army, instead of the messy bunch they used to be.

Lucian rubbed his chin. 'Nobody saw what the Celestial Gods looked like since we've started the war. We only know about them that they kicked out the Black Heirs some time ago, and that they're very powerful. Incredibly so. Even the powerful beings that the Omniscient and his son fought were just Orcs. And I refuse to believe that the Celestial Gods are Orcs. There has to be something deeper than that, I'm certain of it!'

Just as he had that thought, he noticed something in the night. He instinctively activated his Mana Sight, but he stumbled back. The Mana concentration in this area was incredibly dense compared to the rest of the Ink Dunes. The desert was famous as a place with little to no Mana, making battles even harsher for mages and a paradise for Aura users.

So, where was all this Mana coming from?