The last Asura Sovereign

Amrit looked around and saw the chaotic situation. He knew the true battle had just begun. This time the battle would be a decisive one. Even the wise-looking elders were fighting haphazardly. Although the older generation had more experience on the battlefield, it was generally on one-on-one battle with opponents of the same cultivation realms.

Just looking at the battles, Amrit could find many flaws in the way the elders were battling. Amrit didn’t know he had such battle awareness. In his eyes, the battling members were like chess pieces, if he could manipulate them as he liked, he was sure that he could cause more damage to the opponents. It wasn’t that Amrit was a genius or something, the bloodline of Asura just had that advantage.

Asura's bloodline was born for the battlefield so it was normal that Amrit could perceive the flow of the battlefield without even understanding most of it. Amrit could see the flow of the battlefield as if things that were happening were the natural order of things. He could even predict the movement of the opponents and allies to some extent. He could perceive the battlefield as lines of different colors, it was as if the lines were connected to each other in different ways and colors to create a beautiful symphony.

Amrit felt that if he could change a few directions of these lines he could compose music out of this battlefield. But this was all there was to his perception because he knew he wouldn’t be able to change the outcome of this battle by himself, it all depended upon his parents and grandparents. But Amrit felt he still had much to contribute to this war so he followed the lines with the weakest lights and tried to help his clan members.

The dimmer line signified the threat faced was great with no chance of winning and gazing at the line, Amrit could instinctively feel whether he could save them or not. He deeply gazed at a dim red line and felt that it belonged to a foundation building realm deacon. Although he couldn’t ascertain the identity of the deacon, he could feel the current condition the deacon was in. He could have identified the deacon but he didn’t remember the aura of most of the cultivators in the clan.

He was almost a shut-in, usually holed up in the Skill pavilion reading most of his time. If not for his parents scolding him to interact with the elders more, he probably wouldn’t identify all of them. As for deacons, there were many in the clan. Almost all the foundation building realm cultivators and a few old-generation peak qi sensing realm cultivators were deacons on the clan. And some with unique management and business talents were given the post of deacon.

For a small clan like the Rijal clan, the deacon position represented more responsibility than power. The respect from other clan members was a bonus point and there was more freedom for them than ordinary members. There were more than thirty deacons in the clan and Amrit remembered the aura of less than ten of them. One could identify the clan by the cultivation technique they were practicing but to identify certain cultivator, you have to remember their unique aura. So although Amrit could know about their condition, he didn’t know their identity.

He could even estimate the approximate distance and the deacon felt near so Amrit clutched his halberd and ran towards the deacon. The deacon looked like he was about fifty years old and was in the initial stage of the foundation building realm. He was battling two cultivators from minor clans. The deacon seemed to be injured, he was bleeding from his left arm and his right arm was holding a sword.

His robes were tattered and there was a pretty hideous slash on his chest. The wound was oozing with blackish blood but the deacon was still infusing qi on his sword and raring to fight with the two cultivators to the death. As for the two cultivators, one just had superficial injuries whereas another had lost one of his arms. Both of their robes were disheveled and their aura seemed to be weak.

Amrit couldn’t identify what clan they were from and didn’t care about their identities at this point. He infused his aura into the halberd and slashed at the foundation building realm cultivator who just had superficial injuries. Maybe it was instinct or just a dumb luck but the cultivator managed to fend off the attack Amrit had made. The sword that had blocked the attack seemed to have formed hairline fractures and the cultivator was pushed back a few meters.

There were tracks made by the cultivator’s feet on the ground and after stopping, he had a look of horror on his face. He knew his strength and to make him slide this far the cultivator was probably in the middle stage of the foundation building realm. He could probably escape from those at the initial stage of the foundation building realm but against the middle stages, it would be hard to say, if they had good movement techniques, he had no chance.

But he decided to make a run for it. Without even looking at the cultivator from the clan, he ran in the opposite direction. But Amrit seemed to have anticipated this and threw his halberd covered in his aura. The halberd streaked toward the cultivator and reached him in the blink of an eye.

The crimson-red streak seemed to predict the movement of the fleeing cultivator and struck right in the heart from behind. The cultivator still had a worried expression that the cultivator would chase him and a relieved expression that he was smart enough to run fast when the halberd struck his heart pulverizing it at the moment.

The red streak created a hole and returned the same way it had come from. This was due to the connection Amrit had created with the halberd and due to his mastery of aura. The halberd returned with a ‘swoosh’ sound. Even the fluttering ribbons on the side of the halberd were soundless and didn’t cause any damage to the cultivator’s body due to Amrit’s control over the aura, otherwise, the body of the cultivator would be shredded to pieces.

The other cultivator who had lost his arm was in shock. He was shocked at first due to his friend abandoning him and second time because he was killed. Although there were a lot of foundation building realm cultivators on the battlefield, everyone was still accounted for by their people. So if a few of them began to fall, it would raise some concerns. This was why Amrit still had that cloth covering his face. The deacon from the Rijal clan was still infusing qi on the sword but his opponent had become hopeless and gave up.