An Empyrean Tusk was every Mammoth Clansman's spiritual pillar, the deity of their worship, one they treated more sacred and beloved than their family. They depended on the Empyrean Tusk for survival, from food to cultivation resources.
Moreover, the settlements were their haven, allowing them to survive in a treacherous world. Bear note that Sumatra Continent wasn't dominated by human cultivators but by Pranic Beasts. Humanity only occupied a small area, littered like dots across the vast expanse of earth.
A human kingdom getting wiped out by Pranic Beasts overnight wasn't anything uncommon. It frequently occurred. The survivors fled the region and gave enough births to hopefully offset the damage with numbers and erect a piece of land for themselves once again.
They would lose everything they had accumulated and would have to start from scratch. Lacking basic necessities to live, the climate unforgiving, their previous cultivation techniques rendered redundant by the lack of necessary resources, etc.
Bearing everything, they would rebuild a kingdom and probably experience a few decades of stability, only to be overrun by a Pranic Beast swarm. They would have to be blessed with luck to chance upon a danger-minimal region with enough stability for the kingdom to eventually grow into an empire.
Only then can it sustain enough stability to accumulate enough power and deter local Pranic Beasts. And even then, it wasn't guaranteed. There were migratory Pranic Beasts like the Empyrean Tusks that had century-long routes.
When such Pranic Beast herds passed through the region, the empire might be reduced to a kingdom or even to ruin. The lives of such cultivators were akin to homeless dogs.
In comparison, Mammoth Clansmen lived like kings, despite their high death rate. Not once was a settlement completely annihilated. This was only made possible by the Empyrean Tusk's protection.
The Mammoth Clan had a history spanning thousands of years. Therefore, their beliefs were deeply rooted. Empyrean Tusks were sacred and couldn't be tampered upon, whether physically, verbally, or even by imagination. And before the eyes of such Clansmen, the Imagination Art of Defeat was displayed, showing the death of an Empyrean Tusk.
Inala was practically courting death. Had he shown this to Bora Tusk, his head would have been flying long ago. Only because it was Yahard Tusk could he take this risk.
"What is the thought that went behind this?" Yahard asked after calming down. He stared at Inala in a new light. The Imagination Art was absolutely offensive, but it did what Inala said. Rather, it was more effective than had been stated. Seeing a couple of his children lose all their accumulated Prana, he understood its potency.
"Imagination Art is a material meant to train our mind to keep our emotions in check, no matter the cause." Inala explained, "As someone with the Fragment Disease, my Spirit Containers break every time I get emotional. In a perilous situation, I am mentally affected. There is no way around it."
He stared at Yahard and bowed, "Only elites and masters that have been in such situations hundreds to thousands of times would be able to control their emotions. But how many times must we lose our hard-accumulated Prana before grasping this?"
"When I thought of the losses borne by our Clan, I conceptualised Imagination Art." He concluded.
"Why did you make this precisely?" Zahaella asked, focusing on his expression. "You could have made something else to showcase your skill."
"If I can control my emotions and not lose Prana even after seeing that, then no matter what Sumatra Continent throws my way, I would be able to handle it," Inala said. "That was my sole thought behind creating this piece."
"It is as you say." Yahard calmly clenched his hand into a fist, instantly crumpling the art piece into a tiny sphere, "But, let's not go this far, alright?"
"We don't want the students to lose all their Prana." He said in the tone of a senior educating a junior.
"I overstepped my bounds." Inala prostrated on the ground, "Please punish my acts."
"We'll relay you a set of instructions for the type of Imagination Art we desire on our Academy walls." Zahaella flicked her hand, motioning for Inala to leave, "You'll do well to make them perfect."
"It's my honour to be of use to the Clan," Inala announced as he was escorted out.
"You said he approached you at the end of the fair, right?" Once Inala left, Zahaella addressed Luttrena, "Why were you in an emotionally disturbed state?"
"That…" Luttrena intended to hide her embarrassing actions, but unable to endure her mother's calm glare, she blurted out everything.
"Virala, huh?" Zahaella calmly patted the armrest and asked after a few seconds of silence, "Do you want him?"
"I don't." Luttrena shook her head, "He already has a woman. I'm not lowly enough to fight for someone like that."
"Spineless weakling," Zahaella snorted, "Just kill that girl and make him your toy. A mere Death Row orphan, he should thank his fortune to gain your favour."
"I don't want Virala. He's trash." Luttrena's voice turned meek, afraid to receive her mother's gaze. 'She's angry! Shit!'
"What about Inala, then?" Yahard interjected, "He has the Fragment Disease, but his temperament is great. He has cried enough the past two days to dry out his tear glands but his Spirit Containers remain stable. That's not easy to achieve."
"I can judge that he has trained in shattering and rebuilding his Spirit Containers extensively." Yahard concluded, "Though weak and without a bright future, he has exceptional qualities that will be passed down. His children will undoubtedly become powerhouses."
"That's a high evaluation," Zahaella spoke but didn't counter any of his comments, offering her subtle acknowledgement. She glared at Luttrena, "You heard your father. So, why didn't you make him yours? The fair presented a good opportunity."
"I…" Luttrena hesitated.
"Mother, can I do it instead of her?" A girl nearby Luttrena expressed willingness, "I'm interested in his talent. Let me take charge of our transaction with him. Give me a few days and I'll also bear his child."
"Asaeya, you!" Luttrena glared at her sibling, "Don't interfere in my business!"
Zahaella raised her hand and motioned for Luttrena to shut up. Her glance revealed her disappointment in her daughter failing to capitalise on her status. She had already investigated Virala, 'He too is a talent. If she doesn't even realise that, she's useless.'
"Try not to disappoint me." Zahaella didn't even spare a glance at Asaeya while addressing her, "There are some good seeds in the 44th Settlement this time. Create opportunities for your sisters too."
"Leave it to me, mother." Asaeya nodded, thinking in seriousness, 'Inala, huh? His eyes are just my type. Maybe I'll seriously pursue him.'