Gerim was right. There are changes all around from this point. The ape-Demons with three to four arms, sometimes a tail and a wing, not to mention the exoskeleton carapace—that's all part of it.

Haern and I waste no time venturing into the storm. But there's something different about it. It's unlike any of the other storms, thicker. The Essence powering the storm makes it difficult to look through, and though the storm doesn't blister skin its certainly trying to bury us.

Trudging through the layers and dunes is an exercise in strength on its own, but I'd say Haern has it harder. He can't hope to fly in these winds, not unless he wants his wings ripped off his back anyway.

From the little I can make out of the sky, I find that the storm is spiraling— rotating around a fixed point. I have a good guess what that fixed point is.

Since stepping in, we've been washed over by some oppressive wave of a Demon's Essence, thumping and spreading all over the storm. The effects are… a bit invasive. It's trying to change something in us, mold us to its will. I don't feel as strong anymore. Fighting off the pressure takes a great deal of Essence. Ambient Essence is also pressured by it, making it into a sludge, heavy and unwilling to be absorbed.

"These Demons… they're all hybrids," Haern points out, squinting at a Demon with the lower body of a snake and the top half of a burly red ape.

"Yeah, they've been morphed." Beyond the slithering snake-ape Demon hybrid is something else, the best and most obvious sign that I'm on the right track.

A single pillar of light. It's slightly obscured by all the sand tossed around, but that pillar of light—or rather, of Essence—has to be the source of all these changes. From where we stand I'm sure it pierces through the Desert Divide's regular clouds. It's rather daunting.

This is what it is… the creation of a… domain.

I've taken to calling the "places" domains now. A much better word, especially fitting for the scale of Essence thrown around to create one.

I don't think I'd need an expert to tell Morthul's domain is still in its fetus stage. There's a ton of Essence whipped about, the sky is pierced by a pillar of it even, but it still pales in comparison to Calridian's domain.

There isn't a place where Calridian's influence isn't felt in the city. His hawking and swirling Demons watch everyone from above—a clear threat to anyone daring to go after him. But this? The Demon hybrids scattered around are weak. The strongest would be a Crimson Level 4.

Fodder.

Docile fodder too. These Demons are stuck in some kind of trance. Haern often walks up and strangles the life out of them with his chains. They don't defend themselves.

"This is weird. It doesn't feel right here."

"Seems too easy, right?" Haern says, absorbing yet another Pink. "It might be a trap; you say you're here to kill the Demon behind all this, right? He might know someone's coming after him."

"Of course. You think you can just add another Divide to this layer and not have someone come after you? I don't believe he'd be that dumb, dumb enough to steal those items but not dumb enough not to prepare for a fallout."

Haern shrugs. "Think what you want. I'm just saying I've met a lot of dumb people. Also, he might be a lot smarter than we think."

I pause at this. "What do you mean?"

"If he stole the items from Calridian like you said and he was one of his guards, then he probably knew early on that a war with Vark was brewing, likely the same time Calridian did."

"So?"

Causally ripping an arm off one of the hybrid Demons, he takes a bite and says, "So, while everyone was preparing for a war, he was preparing to make it out on his own. Maybe he gathered allies or even secured this spot and tamed a few Demons to clear it out for his needs. I don't know, point is… he's using this war as a distraction."

I give it some thought and it makes some sense. At least, if I were to give Morthul that much credit in his planning. This can't be all there is. If he were a guard to Calridian then he wouldn't be so incompetent to let himself—an aspiring domain holder—go unguarded.

"Dumb or brilliant—whichever it is, let's keep our guard up, and maybe stop eating?"

"What? If they stop acting stupid they'll attack us. Better they don't have their arms to do it," Haern argues.

I roll my eyes. He makes a good point, but having to endure his chewing and gorging isn't what I need right now. "Stop it."

"Alright, fine. After this one though."

"Ugh."

We go on trudging ahead and nothing much changes in the desert. The hybrids remain still, the storm rages, and the pillar of Essence draws closer with each step, along with a great dread at what we'll find at the center.

We're another day into our march when something changes. Without any noticeable switch, the hybrids we come across are far stronger than others. Gleaming Crimson pumps throughout their bodies, and now they hunt.

The Essence here, closer to the pillar, is thick enough to swish through and incapacitate. It gets in no matter what, choking and itching at the surface of the skin—burning through and out wherever's left unguarded. Haern and I have to maintain a rush cycle of Essence pumping throughout every bit of our bodies lest we lose them.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

It's an expensive endeavor, but there are provisions to resupply on Essence if the need arises, provisions Haern takes too quick. Deftly, he slaughters the hybrids focused on hunting the newborns—cracks of concentrated Essence implode to create new [Soul Crystals]. The Demons attached are identical to Calridian's mimicry of Morthul, except smaller and not as menacing.

The hybrids, much like last time, offer no resistance to their deaths. I'm grateful that he's taken to the exercise of it and take the good half of the Crystals he reaps to show it.

He grumbles within as usual and we carry on. The pillar is nearly overhead after about a week of battering and slaughtering, but with the Crystal buffet we've been treated to I can sense I'm right along the edge of leveling my [Soul Crystal] as well.

I can appreciate the pillar of Essence spearing through the clouds as the central array in this whole thing. The pillar is the center of change, transforming all that was into all that will be. There's a change in the sands; they aren't the same as the deserts. Softer, almost turning into a kind of soil rather than the barren waste that is the Desert Divide.

I suppose that's the first two things you'd want to change: the land and the people living on it. The pillar acts to that effort, but it's got some ways to go, which is why the Demons here are so docile. It's given no commands and it hasn't let them grow a consciousness either. We're safe, for now.

Though the further we thread through the sandy soil toward the pillar, the subtler changes in the Demons go unnoticed. Their strengths have doubled from before, and so has their intelligence. They've begun to group themselves and herd one another—I'm not sure if this is an instinctual action or one of the few commands given by the pillar, but it's disconcerting to have them watch us.

"Are you sure they won't attack?" Haern says privately, cautious that they've developed telepathy strong enough to decrypt open thought.

They're Demons, Haern, of course I'm not sure.

Their eyes follow us, shifting their stances as we approach. It's telling of what's to come in the next lap of our journey to the center of the storm.

I think we should prepare for the next group; if these guys feel hostile then we're definitely walking into a fight soon.

Before Haern can respond, a low rumbling resounds throughout. We share a look in the eerie silence that follows, then turn to the Demons creeping forth, surrounding us.

Even though the billowing winds of the storm have come to a halt, sand rains from the sky, bathing and seasoning us before supper.

Fuck.

Haern's chain snaps out in an arc wider than I've seen, ready and fueled since we've been on guard all this time. He takes the front and I take the back, launching out the Seeker Blade, bursting with Essence. It lodges right in the chest of one of the Morthul-esque Demons and I snap my fingers.

The Seeker Blade shoves all the Essence I'd coated it in, injecting the Demon with a lethal dose of volatile Essence, blowing it up and showering anything close by with Demon shrapnel.

Gerim would be proud.

Nearly buried in the raining sand, Haern and I have to fight the soil and the Demons in an attempt to escape their ambush. There's a flood of them, so much more than the Demons in the vicinity when the change happened.

I think this is storm-wide. I mean, the pillar-! I start to tell Haern, slashing across a throat and spearing through guts.

"I know. It's all of them, the entire… the entire Divide is after us!"

He's got access to an easier escape than I do. With his wings free, he rips himself off the soil and flaps off to freedom—and the Demons leap after his feet, jumping over one another to get a hold of him as he stretches the chains. They're dripping with green acid and corroding everything around, myself included.

Hissing at him, I don't have time to bother shouting at him to watch his attacks—if I don't dislodge myself soon, my minion will surely abandon me.

The sands, mixed and fused with Essence as thick as that of the pillar—in the dreary light of the Desert Divide the pillar is a scar, a scar pumping out Demons like it's overflowing—is being made strong and heavy because of the pillar's power.

Grunting, I empower the Seeker Blade again and it's off whipping through the crowds above me, zipping through throats, crotchs, mouths, eyes, and hearts. However, these are Demons—vital points aren't exactly vital anymore.

And so they beat me. Bashing and cracking their fists against my [Armored Form], relentless in their smashing and with poor footing, the Morthul-esque Demons pin me down.

Without mercy or thought for one another, their fists and feet graze my arms, chest, and head as much as they hit one another. The Seeker Blade does its best dropping foes, though to drop them I have to know where their Crystals are and have the blade dig it out for me. But under this assault I barely know up from down.

The Demons closest to my face suddenly slip apart, cut through and melted by a corrosive green sludge. Haern hasn't abandoned me.

"Are you surprised? You better be!" he hollers down, but I can sense through the brief connection that he too faces troubles. He needs my help as much as I need his.

He slices through another set, and I know that's all the help he can offer because he yelps outloud afterward. The hybrids have arrived. Apes equipped with wings just like his assault him in the air, pulling him toward oblivion: a reality I'm faced with already.

Getting an arm and a leg free, I manage a twist and knock them off. They stumble but don't stop with their intent. Back on my feet, the sand turns loose and the apes forge forward. The Seeker Blade swerves a bit, slicing at their ankles and hamstrings. They'll heal quick if they know what they're doing, but these Demons are still mindless. There's little tactic to their attacks other than to attack. And so with their feet taken away, many sink faster than I do, freeing me from more enemies to face off.

Haern plummets but shreds and kills several hybrids as he flourishes his chain about him. The enemies on top of us are thinning but the surge beyond the horizon, the marching army we passed by on our way here, are the real threat.

Wriggling my feet out, I feed the Seeker Blade with Essence and let it continue ripping out sinew and tendons while I gather the might of my mana for a spell.

"Alhak za!" I start the chant, spreading a coat of mana outward as a dome. "Alhak za!" the dome stretches over us, covering even Haern and the swarm of hybrids.

"Alhak za!" I exclaim and the mana rains down, delivering my illusion to every one within the dome, including Hearn.

Seamlessly as though no spell was cast, the apes and hybrids and even Haern go manic. Their eyes see everyone and everything as an enemy, including themselves. I rush over to Hearn and toss him out of the dome, sparing him from the maw of a hybrid.

Letting the Seeker do justice to all, I hurry after Hearn, trying best not to let the sand consume me. The pillar of Essence thumps and more Demons flood through, but we're already here.

Groaning, Haern stands as though he's just woken from sleep. He laments my spell, but I've tuned him out to gape at the figure below the dune we're standing on. It's Morthul.

"Shut up, that's the one, the real one. We kill him and we end this madness."

He mutters something but finds what I'm looking at and sighs. "Sure, but don't you think we'll have to beat that golem?"

Morthul hangs at the heart of the pillar of Essence, a blaring red circle that sears the sand as Demons pour through. A couple meters ahead of him stands a golem. It's of the same make as all the other apes and hybrids except several feet taller and wider. Its fists alone would take off my head and shoulders, and a powerful Blood Orange Crystal pumps at its heart.

"Yeah, I see it. That might be a problem." Just another on the heap.

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