The Grand Observatory Hall had begun to hum — not with polite murmurs, but with the restless buzz of a crowd sensing blood and glory. Marla was already half out of her seat, hands cupped to her mouth. "Come on, Ash! Break its legs!"
Faeluxe stood beside her, silver hair catching the glow from the projection mirrors. She wasn't yelling — yet — but her eyes were locked on one image: Ash circling the nightmare-shaped Stalker Revenant. Her tail flicked sharply with every hammer swing he landed. At first, only the Iron Fang elders and a handful of curious observers were watching his screen. Then the gasps began. Then the whispers. Then, like wildfire, the news spread: "Ash of Iron Fang is fighting a Prodigy Slayer."
Cultivators who had been lounging in shadowed alcoves, sipping tea, or trading bets suddenly converged on the dais. Those who'd already been eliminated in earlier rounds pushed to the front, their humiliation forgotten in the draw of the spectacle. One man whispered hoarsely to his friend, "I thought the Slayer was a story… some old tournament ghost-tale."
His friend shook his head, never looking away from the spinning image of chitin, bone, and screaming faces. "It's real. And he's managing to stay alive." Dozens became hundreds. The curved viewing platform was now a ring of tense bodies, faces lit by the rotating constellation of lotus-petal screens — all attention funneled to the one where Ash blurred in and out of existence, afterimages swarming the monstrosity. Marla punched the air when his hammer smashed home again. "Get'em get'em, duck, no look out!"
Faeluxe's voice was quiet but fierce: "Don't let it touch you Ash it's cursed, it wants your soul." From the corner, Elder Umo's low growl cut through the din, "Keep watching. This is no ordinary beast… it's called the Prodigy Slayer for a reason."
The crowd hushed, as if the very name drew the weight of an ancient curse into the hall. Somewhere in the back, a grey-robed cultivator muttered a prayer. And then — on the screen — the Revenant's shell began to split wider, revealing not just stolen arms and weapons… but the faces of prodigies from tournaments past, their eyes burning with trapped fury. Hundreds of onlookers leaned closer. The atmosphere was molten. The murmurs spread, turning to a hiss of disbelief and dread.
Faeluxe spoke "It keeps them," she said coldly. "Not just their bodies…they're qi." Marla's fists clenched, "Then Ash will set them free." Further back, an old rogue cultivator smirked through crooked teeth, "Or he'll join them. The crowd was now shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with tension and the faint echo of the Revenant's unholy screech filtering through the projection.
Some spectators craned for a better look, others stared in grim silence, recognizing old rivals, old allies — all reduced to fuel for this nightmare. Even some elders leaned forward, eyes narrowed, as if they too were wrestling with the ghosts of tournaments past. On the screen, Ash's hammer flared with ember flame and lightening qi. He charged again, ghosts circling them both like the rings of a war-god's arena.
The Revenant's faces shifted…
Some snarled. Some screamed. One…wept. The sinkhole's light flared against my skin. The Solar Pyre Veins in my arms burned like molten rivers under the flesh — every heartbeat pumping pure, searing fire into my muscles. My raptor speed circuits were in overdrive. A thought struck through the chaos like a blade. Just then I remembered my Tier Five Ember Coil Fire — lethal against necro flesh…and it purified curses. The Revenant spun toward me in a cyclone of jagged lances and bone-forged swords.
WHOOSH—CLANG—CHAK!
I weaved through the flurry, diving, sliding over fractured stone, feeling each strike tear the air just inches from my chest. One lance skimmed past my ear; a black saber scythed down where I'd stood a heartbeat earlier.
"Tempest Breath!"
I dropped low, my qi flooding my lungs, and exhaled with the force of a collapsing stormfront. The bubble of compressed air slammed into the Revenant's right leg joint — a direct hit.
CRAAAK!
It staggered — claws scrabbling for purchase — the death-dance breaking for just a heartbeat. That heartbeat was all I needed. Flames from the ember coil surged down my arms, licking across the Jawbreaker Beast Hammer until the runes blazed like molten scripture. I spun — a full circle, building momentum — and leapt.
"BURNING HAMMER STRIKE!"
The hammer came down like a comet into its barrier.
FWOOOOM!
Fire and lightening erupted in a single stroke — flames clinging to the shimmering defensive shell, searing it with a hiss like meat on a hot iron plate. The shield flickered under the onslaught. The Revenant howled, dozens of voices screaming in disharmony. But I was already there, feet pounding onto its torso.
BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
Palm strikes roared against its barrier, each one flaring with purifying ember coil fire. The barrier flinched…
Cracked…
Then —
KRA-SHHRRRAAANG!!
It shattered into motes of dying light. I felt the battlefield tilt in my favor. Quickly I accessed my new tier 3 spiral tyrant ability and shouted!
"CRUSHING FORTRESS GRIP!"
Cerulean light surged over my skin. Spirit Shell armor bloomed into existence, plating me in a spectral crab carapace, lines of blue qi tracing my limbs. Hovering above each of my arms were colossal cerulean pincer projections, each one radiating qi pressure heavy enough to bend the air. The Revenant slashed wildly, black ichor streaming from its wounds — but I was already in position. I moved my arms and the massive hovering Spirit Pinchers reached out!
GRIP!
The pincers snapped shut around its torso and lower shell — an unbreakable grapple! The ground buckled under the pressure as its limbs flailed, lances and sabers scraping harmlessly against my shell armor.
I planted my feet, and let my intent expand.
CRRRRRRKKKKHHHH!!!
The Prodigy Slayer screamed, smoke hissing from its wounds as purifying fire ate through necrotic sinew. I gave one last surge of strength —
RRRRRRIPPP!!!
The Revenant tore apart in a rain of black ichor and fading soul-lights, its stolen faces dissolving into sparks that drifted toward the heavens. The two halves of the Prodigy Slayer hit the ground with a wet, final thud. Its screech died into the hiss of burning ichor.
Then—
"Fatality! Flawless Victory!"
The voice wasn't from any throat. It came from everywhere — the cracked ground, the dead air, the marrow of my bones. It rolled through the battlefield like a war drum echo, cold and triumphant. From the smoking remains, dozens of glimmering objects floated free — each one a Tournament Token, once chained to the souls it had devoured.
They drifted in lazy arcs toward me before slotting into my own hovering Token like gemstones set into a crown. "Ten Tokens from one fight." Not a bad start if you ask me, I thought.
At the Grand Observatory Hall Chaos erupted — the good kind. Marla vaulted onto the viewing dais railing, waving both arms like a lunatic.
"TEN TOKENS, BABY! That's my Captain!" Faeluxe's usually calm composure shattered into a sharp, bright laugh. She was on her toes, pixie wings fluttering, ears up. "Yes! Yes! Burn him from the inside out, Ash!"
The crowd behind them roared as if they'd just watched a dynasty fall. Cultivators clapped each other on the back, strangers embraced, even rival clans let out involuntary shouts at the sheer spectacle.
On the elder's tier, silence reigned for a heartbeat. Elder Umo's jaw was tight, but his eyes gleamed. Elder Mei exhaled slowly, relief unspooling from her shoulders.
Even the King's smile was faint but unmistakable. Only Elder Zulin of the Golden Boulder Clan muttered under his breath, "That… was impressive."
The air shifted. From the gaping sinkhole where the Revenant had emerged, a spear of golden light shot straight into the sky — so bright it carved a pillar through the roiling clouds above.
An Inheritance Beacon.
I blinked against the brilliance, and then it hit me — the way the Revenant had fought, the way the voice had marked the kill, the way the Tokens had reacted. "This… this isn't just about beating the other cultivators" I said aloud.
My gaze tracked the column of light into the heavens. It was about this. Killing the island's monsters. Lighting the beacons. Thirteen in total — thirteen victories to summon the Inheritances themselves. The strongest Inheritances… would demand the greatest toll. More tokens than any duel could give. The game wasn't about hunting each other.
It was about surviving the island's apex predators and claiming their tokens.
"Alright," I murmured, tightening my grip on the hammer, watching the beacon's glow stain the sky. "Now I know the rules."