[Initializing Protocol]
[Reward Processing]
[The host has been granted: The Warmaster Blood Rend Technique]
Technique description:
A basic Aether control art that forces the blood of the host to charge with Aether and coalesce around the host's weapon (preferably a sword or saber), firing an arc of pure, sharp Aether wind coated with the charged, hot blood of the host — slicing through wood, rock, and even pure steel depending on the host's mastery.
Granted that the host has an open wound from which blood can be drawn.
Technique requirements:
Rank 1 Aether Warrior (Iron Fighter Rank)
Full mastery of the body's Aether
Technique's Aether required:
2%
[Technique Manual]
The blood from the inflicted wound should be riled up and compressed through the host's arm onto the host's weapon, halting the process for an instant, then swinging the weapon in an arc and releasing his hold on the Aether.
Seeing the reward, Rael froze as a memory of a middle-aged man with surprisingly handsome features for his age in blackish robes swung a curved black blade at some unfortunate souls a few distances away. A silver light curved in an arc burst forth from the middle-aged man's blade, splitting through the flesh and bones of the assailants, spilling blood as they tried to dodge the expanding attack to no avail.
Rael blinked, awakening from that memory lane.
"Hmm, awfully familiar," he muttered. He was a bit amazed at the description of this newfound technique and the cost — his blood — but also greatly appalled by the familiarity to the famous and most-feared technique of the Drakul family, only learned by the patriarch. He tossed away the thought, as what was a priority to him now was understanding and gaining full control of his newfound strength and the Aether that now flowed through his veins. Even though he was amazed by how he felt, he knew he was just at the bottom of a long line.
…..
A few minutes after he had started getting the camp in order and fixing some of the broken tents, he felt something strange — weird even.
"It's that feeling again." He knew what he was feeling was the surroundings of the campsite that was now his said territory — a total of ten yards in width and eleven yards in length — but something felt wrong. It was a tingling sensation on his scalp, completely different from the tickling sensation he usually felt from his territory. He knew something was wrong.
He quickly rose to his feet, using his eyes to scan his surroundings. At the same time, he trudged to the armory tent, quickly picking up a longsword from within it while keeping his full focus on the tingling sensation.
He closed his eyes as he focused on the sensation, feeling it pull toward the northern direction of the campsite. Rael squinted as all he could see were just the rough leaves of the woods beyond the campsite.
"Do I have company?" he questioned himself, choosing to look through the system for any clue of this oddity he was feeling. But there was nothing — just the usual interface — except when he gazed at the quest log, a certain quest was glowing red.
[Tier 2. Clear the Surrounding Area
Status: Incomplete at 0%
Objective: Remove immediate threats and cleanse your claimed Territory.
Reward: Low-Class Inscription Manuscript — [Boundary Ward Sigil]]
Seeing this, Rael frowned. The truth was, as much as he felt eager to test his newfound strength, he didn't like the odds of the unknown situation, as he was certain something — or some things — were hiding in the woods. He could feel predatory gazes on his body and felt more infuriated as he sensed the pull of the sensation now drawing him to the south, east, and west sides of the campsite. He was basically surrounded.
"Could it be what killed the Rosil Guild?" Rael brandished the longsword as he took a ready stance. He was sure it was this beast — or beasts — that killed them, for his newly acquired warrior senses had sensed nothing earlier.
"I really don't have good luck, huh." He squinted his eyes at a rustle of leaves in front of him, as whatever was hidden had obviously chosen not to launch sneak attack anymore now that he was aware of it presence.
Out of the dark shadows of the trees, a clawed paw filled with tiny spikes moved through the leaves at a leisurely pace, giving Rael a full view of the creature he quickly identified as a Hell Worg.
He knew this, as he'd seen many of their corpses sold in Grandveil. They were given that name because of their hideously pale red skin, filled with porcupine-like spikes that clearly separated them from any other Aether wolf species.
Looking at the hulking figure of the Aether beast a few yards away, Rael cursed under his breath. The size of this one compared to the other four that had shown themselves — baring their fangs from different directions of the campsite — already told him of its rank, which was similar to his, probably far above.
Aether beasts shared a different power ladder from Aether users, with a beast similar to a first-rank Aether user being referred to as a feral beast — simply because of their more ferocious strength and nature, clearly guided by the mutations caused by their constant consumption of Aether.
Rael knew facing the other Hell Worgs shouldn't pose a problem; it would have been something he might have been capable of before stepping into the Iron Fighter rank, if it was one. But now, since there was clearly one at the same strength — and as he had just stepped into the rank and was unfamiliar with his strength — he didn't like his chances. Most of all, his torso was exposed, leaving him with only leather pants for protection.
The hulking Hell Worg across from him bared its fangs as it tightened its claws and its spikes hardened — tiny reflexes that Rael's now-enhanced eyes noticed, a clear indication it was about to attack.
Rael frowned and tightened his grip on his sword, determination and ruthlessness flashing through his eyes. Invisible in the clear light of day, his veins glowed red as they pulsed with Aether, ready to be unleashed.