Gnash!!!!
The dying cries of the Ganshka echoed as their dark-green blood soaked the earth.
"Kill them all! Spare no one!" Lash roared, leading the charge.
The battle raged. More Ganshka fell to the blades and claws of the Manuga. With a sickening splash, Lash drove his arm through the stomach of the Ganshka chieftain.
"Where is it?" he demanded, his voice a guttural snarl.
"Vrkuga…!" the chieftain muttered weakly before succumbing to blood loss.
Lash's expression twisted into a mask of fury. "Kill them all!"
***
"We should get going," Helma said, standing and checking her arrow supply.
"Can you stand?" Ballio asked Cloe, his tone laced with concern.
She offered a weak smile. "Don't worry about me," she said, rising slowly.
"So, where are we going?" Helma asked, turning to Cloe. "If this is a pocket dimension, there must be a way out, right?"
Cloe fidgeted. "I've lived here my whole life… but I don't know the way out." She hesitated. "I only know two people who might: my father and my brother. My father is the chief of our tribe."
"Great! Then we can ask him. I'd love to meet more of your people," Ballio said, smiling.
Helma punched his arm.
"Ouch! What was that for?"
She pulled his head down and whispered sharply, "Fool! Why do you think they're held as slaves here? The Order brought them here, and we're the Order's members. Don't you get it? The Manuga is the final trial."
"Tch!" Ballio clicked his tongue. "I know that. I'm not a fool… but—" He wanted to explain. 'It's not guilt. If my team is threatened, I'll kill without hesitation. But I don't like the idea of slaughtering another intelligent race.'
He gave Cloe a pained look.
"Don't be sorry," she said, her tail giving a faint wag. "I'm only alive because of you two. This hatred between our races… It's so old I don't even know its origin." Her voice cracked with sadness. "But still, I was happy to have an honest talk with you."
"Cloe…" Ballio murmured.
"Sigh." Helma massaged the bridge of her nose. "How about we travel together a bit longer? Then we can go our separate ways."
"Good idea, Helma."
Cloe gave a light, grateful nod.
***
"Wait, wait, wait! There's another race here besides the rakshasa?" Dris cried in shock.
"Stop shouting! You're hurting my ears," Roderic snapped.
"We were transported to the southern part of the island," Damara explained, summarizing their journey. "We teamed up, killed some Ganshka, absorbed their vestiges, and stayed hidden from the Vyaghruga. That's about it."
"Vyaghruga species?" Dris asked, confused.
One of the other team members answered. "A mix of human and feline features."
Roderic snickered. "Don't bother. He didn't remember a thing from Old Dhren's lectures."
"I remembered the combat lessons!" Dris retorted, cracking his knuckles.
"Ah, I missed their bickering. A little," Damara said with a small smile.
"What have you two been doing all this time?" Imla asked.
Roderic pointed an accusing finger at Dris. "This idiot never listened! We kept stumbling into Ganshka tribes and getting into skirmishes."
"You're forgetting the part where we hunted them and took their vestiges," Dris corrected.
"Any clues you've found… Never mind, don't answer that," Imla said, her assessing gaze making her opinion clear.
"Whoa! Why does it look like you think we're worthless?" Dris said, offended.
"Who's 'we'?" Roderic glared.
"Okay, you two can bicker all you want after we escape," Damara interjected, clapping her hands. "So, what's the plan? Any ideas for getting out of here?"
The group fell into a contemplative silence.
"Finding a way out might not be our priority right now," Roderic finally said, hesitantly. "Srish has already reached the Awakened stage. The rest of us are still stuck. We need to absorb more vestiges."
"I agree," Dris nodded.
"But you're both forgetting something," Imla cut in, her voice cold. "We have our own… peculiar condition to resolve."
She didn't elaborate further with the other team members present, but Dris, Roderic, and Damara understood. As followers of the Samyama Marga—a fusion of Sharir and Atma—they needed both types of vestiges and, more critically, the perfect balance between them. Even now, they hadn't found the correct harmonization.
'If not for Ashan discovering the second sequence and the need for synchronization, we wouldn't have lasted this long,' Imla thought, her expression darkening.
'Ashan… where are you?' She felt a pang of frustration at their dependence on him.
But is that just an excuse for my own weakness? Weak in what sense?'
"If only Ashan were here," Damara sighed, echoing Imla's thoughts.
"Ashan, huh. Yeah, we should find him and regroup," Dris said.
"And how do you propose we do that?" Roderic shot back.
"Sitting here won't help, that's for sure!" Dris retorted.
'Our priorities are finding our team and harvesting vestiges. The problem is the Manuga. Do we abandon this spot or not?'
Gansh!!!!
Loud, frantic cries shattered the night, reverberating under the pale moon. The sound didn't fade; it intensified.
"What the fuck!" Dris cursed.
"Sigh. Looks like we're abandoning this spot," Damara said, her shoulders slumping.
"We should leave. Now," Imla agreed.
***
"So, you've lived your whole life here?" Ballio asked as they walked under the pale moonlight.
"Yes. I opened my eyes for the first time in this place," Cloe replied.
They walked at a leisurely pace, with Helma following vigilantly behind.
'He's such a furry-lover,' Helma thought. 'Furry… what a strange word. Ashan has a weird choice for names.'
"Cloe," Ballio began, his question catching her off guard. "Do you want to leave this place?"
She was silent for a long moment. Helma's ears perked up, listening.
"I do," Cloe said, her voice measured, her eyes distant with memory. She breathed in the scent of the soil, listened to the insects, and felt the faint moonlight. "I don't want to be caged here forever. But I can't leave alone. I would only leave with my family, with my tribe." Her voice was steady, filled with conviction.
"Ballio, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure. What is it?"
She hesitated, her tail swishing rapidly. "Do you believe—"
A sudden eruption of cries drowned out her words.
Gnash! Gnash!
"What's happening?" Helma's expression hardened, her voice sharp with alarm.
Cloe's ears twitched. "Oh, no!" Without another word, she sprinted toward the source of the sound.
"Hey, wait, Cloe!" Ballio yelled, running after her.
"Idiot!" Helma cursed, drawing her bow as she gave chase.
***
"Kill them!" Lash ordered.
He and his kin were assailing another Ganshka tribe.
Under the faint pale moon, the Vyaghruga butchered the Ganshka, showing no mercy to women or children.
Lash extended his claws, prana surging through his body. He leapt at a bulky Ganshka.
"Hmph!" He snorted, swiping his claws at the creature's face.
"You dare kill my tribe!" the chieftain roared, raising a wooden club to block.
Kach! The club splintered. Lash's tail whipped against the chieftain's head, followed by a claw that tore through its arm.
Splash! Blood gushed out like a fountain.
Lash shook the blood from his claws. "So, where is it?"