"Shit! Shit! Shit! This is messed up!" A middle-aged man with reddened eyes rushed through a canyon, having transformed into a Shock Lizard. His serpentine lower half paddled through the water, allowing him to move quickly.
He was accompanied by seven other people. They had all transformed into a Shock Lizard, moving through the waters in an octagonal formation, their actions in unison.
In the centre of the formation was a box, sealed tight to ensure none of Prana, aura, sound, scent, etc. would leak out. There was a nozzle on one side, covered by a piece of porous bone, a Spirit Weapon whose entire job was to ensure circulation of air while filtering out the presence of the entity within.
The eight cultivators desperately rushed through the canyon, intending to survive. But their eyes said otherwise.
Anger! Sadness! Sense of Doom! And Disappointed in Themselves!
A multitude of emotions plagued their minds, wearing them thin. They had been on the run for a month already.
"This can't be true. If yes, then what are we fighting for?" The man at the forefront mumbled, losing his sanity, on the verge of madness, "This is messed u…"
"Duvara! To the front!" The woman next to him bellowed, also alerting her comrades. The group had arrived close to a Zinger colony, obviously garnering the latter's undivided attention.
A bunch of Zingers jumped from their position on the cliff and glided towards them, preparing Prana Bombs to chuck at the group.
Seeing their approach, the eight cultivators inhaled sharply and condensed Prana in their mouths before blasting out a bolt of Prana each.
Primary Nature—Prana Shock!
The bolts of Prana flew in the air. But unlike the Prana Shock typically unleashed by Mammoth Clansmen, these eight bolts synchronised with each other and combined into a single bolt, dozens of times larger.
It exploded, unleashing shockwaves that echoed throughout the canyon, unleashing eight waves in total, causing the Zingers to rain down from the sky, their bodies numb by the repeated shockwaves.
It was obvious that the group of cultivators were veterans with tremendous skill, capable of combining their Prana Natures to unleash an ability dozens of times more potent than their individual attacks.
As the Zingers rained down, the group evaded them and rushed through the water, accelerating. The bottom portion of the cage sported fourteen layers of bone, each the Spirit Weapon of one of the cultivators in the group.
Yes, fourteen. Their squad originally consisted of fourteen cultivators. But six were killed already. And the cause…
"YOU! BASTARDS! STOP!" A rage-filled shout reverberated throughout the canyon as a middle-aged man rushed through, transforming into a four-legged Pranic Beast that spanned a length of twenty metres.
It wasn't alone. Ten…twenty…hundred…the numbers continued to increase. The air in the region turned heavy with their killing intent as any Zinger that remained in their path was vaporised. They were all masters, after all.
The target of the masters was the group of eight rushing through the canyon. There were around 180 kilometres of distance between the two. But that distance didn't matter when they had amongst themselves masters who could transform into Pranic Beasts specialised in detection abilities.
They kept track of the group and gave chase, slowly closing in the distance. But every second of delay caused their killing intent to condense further.
The Zingers retreated in fear, knowing very well to avoid antagonising the raging crowd of masters that numbered in the hundreds.
The crowd of masters rushed past a mountain of Zingers, causing some that were hanging by the cliffs to foam at the mouth due to the killing intent, lose their footing and free fall to the ground.
The Zingers shrieked, turning restless by the activity. But they didn't even have time to calm down, as a couple of hours later, they noticed in the horizon, a dust cloud. It was akin to a monster that devoured everything in its path.
The Zingers were alarmed by the sight. In the colony was a Zinger King, the strongest of their kind, a mighty existence that could even face a Beginner Silver Grade Pranic Beast and emerge victorious.
But now, its fur stood on ends as the Zinger King felt the strongest dread it had ever experienced. It had the strongest eyesight among its brethren, capable of clearly observing things even a hundred kilometres afar.
The dust cloud wasn't the cause of its concern. No, it was merely an after-effect due to the cause. As the dust cloud reached Dieng Canyon, the mountains that came in contact crumbled, as if they were mere straw structures.
The collapsed mountains added to the dust cloud.
The Zinger King condensed Prana in its eyes and boosted its sight, peering through the thick layer of clouds. It regretted its decision, despairing as it uttered a weak cry, "Kua!"
Its voice was soft, but all the Zingers in the colony heard it loud and clear. In an instant, they assumed the highest state of panic and jumped over the cliff en masse, gliding deeper into the canyon at their fastest speed.
The Zinger King didn't join them as it remained still. And then, like a human, it prostrated on the ground, "Uwaa!"
Its actions were akin to a mortal worshipping a Deity, for what was within the dust cloud was an existence more corporeal than Deities.
It was a herd of sprinting, rage-induced, bloodthirsty Empyrean Tusks, numbering 62 in total. Their trunks hoisted, ready for war, unleashing shockwaves that destroyed entire mountains and turned them into dust that accompanied their charge.
The raging Empyrean Tusk herd rushed through the Dieng Canyon, levelling everything in their way, forging a path of their own, one hundreds of kilometres wide, practically terraforming the landscape of the historical region.
Before the dust cloud even approached it, the shockwaves from the Empyrean Tusk herd's trumpeting vaporised the Zinger King's body. As for its brethren that had taken flight? They too were the same, not even able to let out a cry before their bodies turned into blood mist.
The shockwaves travelled forth, levelling everything. Pranic Beasts, mountains, rivers, nothing mattered. Everything was destroyed in a fit of rage as the Empyrean Tusk herd charged, chasing after the group of eight cultivators that were running away.
The reason was simple. In the cage securely being transported by the group of eight cultivators was a newborn Empyrean Tusk. The herd that lost their newborn chased after the kidnappers.
And the leader of these kidnappers was a distraught man named Duvara, Resha's father. His actions triggered an entire herd of Empyrean Tusks and the associated Mammoth Clan into a frenzy, and a mere side effect of their actions caused a chain reaction throughout Dieng Canyon.
The product of that was the First Major Disaster.