Ascenders: Rising From Zero 36 Voice From A Distance

On walking to the street, loud noises rent the air, the atmosphere filled with changing, cursing and swearing, the signature move of aggrieved persons.

But in Orun, aggrieved persons necessarily did not have a say. It was this- become powerful and ascend your soul Status or be treated as sc.u.m to be crushed under foot.

The motivation was Ascend or grovel.

But over the decades, the Drakonian Confederacy has undergone ma.s.sive transformations of equity and justice. If aggrieved, you could take the case up to a Drakon Master to seek retribution.

And truth be told, it had saved some many lives from needless death duels.

And as result, Drakonian Confederacy has thrived, grown, survived and prospered tremendously, a noticeable feat of Lord Meados, the economist as he was secretly nicknamed.

As the duo marched, leaving the more civilized part of Drago city which was the hub of power, platoons of warriors wearing black leather with chest plate having an inscription of the dragon symbol while arm and leg guards were metal plated with silver hurried past, brandis.h.i.+ng swords with which they smacked into grotesquely horrid looking beings.

The demonkind beings.

SMACK! A drakon smashed his sword hilt into the face of a red skinned, insect like demon, getting a yelp and a curse in return as the demon staggered.

"This is serious. The City Guards are all over." Dakota mentioned, observing the ruckus before him.

"How dare you? I pay my taxes..." Insect faced demon screamed.

"You have been ejected! Exit the city." Th City guard replied, launching a punch into the face of the speaker.

"Why would Lord Meados allow this force? This is total brutality on defenseless people." Dakota gasped.

"Well, Lord Meados sees it necessary to impress The Irunmoles. Look?" Oberius pointed at a figure in the mesh of confused and battered demons.

"That's Asoju Temi. He's watching to ensure the orders are carried out." Oberius added.

Some meters ahead, a figure at a height of 10 feet levitated in the air, watching the sacking of demons with cold emotionless and pupil-less eyes. He had a gown on, white and glowing that was belted at the waist with a piece of blue material engraved with a cl.u.s.ter of jewels. An Emere and emissary of the Irunmole Society in Drago.

"We don't deserve this."

"This is unfair."

"You people are unkind."

"No, please."

"You can't send me away. All I own is here!"

"No, where do I go!"

"Please, allow us stay."

"We can't leave. Don't hurt us."

"We are innocents."

"Our demon legacy will curse you forever."

"The draconian will fall if you chase us."

Several similar cries rent the air, enough to moisten the eyes of any onlooker if he dwelled too much on them. Just then, black skinned dragons graced the skies, with Grakons...o...b..ard, dropping pinpoint explosion of fire to control the demon crowd away from the city.

Wherever they had to go during this dusk was not any of the expellees business.

The demons just had to go.

And they had to go now.

And FAST!

Meanwhile, Asoju Temi hovered, clasping his hands as he watched the scene below. These demons, these sc.u.m...

These perpetrators of darkness.

For millenniums, the demonkind has been frustrating the Orisha, tormenting the humans that Eledumare had created on Earth.

As result, Eledumare had dispatched several Orisha to vanquish these demons over and over.

But demons never really learnt.

They kept doing the same thing over, due to the devilish nature they inherited from their legacy, he who must not be mentioned, Olosi, owner of the left path and the Second Great Consciousness after Eledumare.

Being overstretched with their Aspectual supervision, the Orishas cried to their King, Obatala, king of the white cloth who in turn related the anxiety to Eledumare.

As result, the Irunmole were created, being with capability to glean the Aspectual power of their patron Orisha, with aim of dealing with the demon sc.u.m.

That in place, the Orisha were now able to keep up with their duties while dispatching Irunmoles to deal with erring demons.

And so, he was used to things like this. After all he was a descendant of an Orisha himself.

Just then, a fist sized stone fell through the air homing at him, accompanied by a cursing demon below.

"It is because of you we are being sacked. Eat s.h.i.+t."

The Emere didn't even bother to move as the stone suddenly shattered into pieces, dust spilling against him.

Stupid demons!

He had been The Emissary for the Imole society, a lowly position for an Emere, after being cast down by the Orisha as atonement for his offenses in the Fifth Heaven.

And over time? He had learnt to control his strength and not be angered by impetuous moves, such as this.

"YOU..." A loud booming voice broke into his thoughts.

Tilting to his side, he was greeted with the sight of Oninla, a reputable demon who had become a representative for the demons residing in Drago.

"You will die today for what you have orchestrated." Oninla yelled, his speech filled with extreme hate.

The demon waved his hands, forming a complete arc. At this, the demons began cheering seeing their most powerful Alpha Cla.s.sed Demon rising to the challenge as he levitated too.

In a flash, an arc of black energy had formed churning as it sucked in airs, the aura of its caster glowing blood red.

"You. WILL. DIE." Oninla emphasizes, his face contorted in agonizing rage.

THWOOOM!!

A gargantuan wave of dark condensed energy blazed towards the floating Emere, causing a freeze in the motion below, demons and city guards pausing to watch the outcome.

If the attack homed...

The Emere however did not bother to even give his attacker, the grace of a look as he looked downwards, looking at the awestruck demons.

With still clasped hands, the air suddenly whipped up around him, picking pace as it became ferocious.

FWWOOOOOOOOO99SHHH....

The wind suddenly contracted, taking shape of a hand as it formed a gargantuan open palm, even larger than the oncoming blast.

The result would be obvious, no body needed to be told that.

The wind fist crunched on the blast of dark energy, squeezing it till it dissipated into nothing, leaving everyone stunned.

Just how powerful was this cast down Emere?

The wind hovered about the Emere as he levitated even higher, oozing pure unrivaled creation essence.

A hollow formed in front of the Asoju Temi, with all likeness to a miniature black hole, churning of fierce winds as the Emere cleared his throat.

"HEAR O PEOPLES OF DRAGO." He started, his voice amplified to several decibels high, resonating through out the entire city.

"ON THIS DAY, I, EMISSARY OF THE IRUNMOLE UNTO DRAGO HAVE THIS TO SAY TO YOU. A REPUTABLE HEAD, RESPECTED AND ADORNED BY THE DEMONS IN DRAGO, ONINLA HAS ATTACKED ME, AND BY EXTENSION ATTACKED THE IRUNMOLE SOCIETY AND THE G.o.dS AT LARGE.

AN ACT OF WAR AGAINST ALL THAT I REPRESENT AND I VIEW OF THIS, I, WILL ACT, IN RESPONE TO THIS ACT OF WAR TO DEFEND MYSELF." He finished, finally gracing the fuming demon head , Oninla with his gaze.

"STARTING FROM YOU."

He flayed a plan towards the levitating demon, a tremendous bourst Of wind pus.h.i.+ng him towards the Emere.

Elsewhere, Bayo smacked his snout with his tongue relis.h.i.+ng over the taste of the Horned Hind Bear he had attacked.

As he grew in strength, the horned Hind Bear no longer satisfied his requirement for more energy as he could easily absorb thrice his energy limit comfortably. Soon enough, he'd need to find a new hunt that could satisfy his energy requirement.

Already he had two abilities, Yasmin had informed him that Mythic beats usually had two abilities with the peculiar ones having up three, especially with the aid of a law.

It would only take three more abilities for him to become Rare Type, and truth be told, he didn't want o become all powerful when his soul was not refined yet.

If he became Rare Type, he'd have to be stuck in the Latent Stealth Dog form which regardless of how powerful he had grown was nothing to be compared with Vela.

That Vela...

He still had scores to settle with that Secondborn. And fast too, before she became too powerful for him to deal with.

Bayo mused, reflecting over the 250 energy pints he received from the meal. He crouched as a dog would lie on its hind and frontal paws, calling up his mental s.p.a.ce or as Yasmin called it, his soul s.p.a.ce.

Over time, he had made it a point of focus to attempt doing things himself. If he was ever going to eject Yasmin when he got strong, he just didn't want to become a noob then.

That, aside from staying alive, we his major focus. As there was no way he'd come to terms with an evil sort A.I lurking patiently for a day to take over the world, his soul, that is.

In his soul s.p.a.ce, he saw his soul churning and blinding here and there while the Yasmin miasma kept on shooting tendrils of darkness attempting to wrap his soul.

And as always, his soul kept on burning out the excess tendrils, dragging the stalemate on and on.

He, in his ethereal human form, willed the 250 points of energy into his soul for refining purpose and grunted as he felt energy leaving him instantly.

His soul blobbed with excitement as it accepted the energy, as it grew a little bit bigger and whiter.

"Progress is made." He smiled.

Just then a loud voice rocked his consciousness, forcing him to leave his soul s.p.a.ce, jumping to his feet.

The voice resounded with authority and power, giving out a decision to be taken with absolute resolute .

Curious, he waltzed towards the direction of the voice. If for anything, He had learned to be alive by first accessing the danger before it got to him.

And because of his curiosity, he failed to hear Yasmin's whisper telling him to stay put.