His heart beat with terrifying power and resilience, the sound echoing through his chest like a drum struck by Ancestral Titans. He felt like his entire body became many times grander in that single moment, elevated to a level of existence that he hadn’t known was possible.
His skin became covered in extremely concentrated rivers of blue Mana, the tendrils no longer flickering uncertainly but flowing with the steady purpose of great rivers finding their way to the sea. His dark hair danced wildly despite the absence of wind, lifted by currents of power that surrounded him like an aura made visible.
And his eyes...
His eyes released lightning-like tendrils of Mana that crackled through the air around his face, blue-white arcs that made the shadows flee and the stones nearby glow with reflected radiance!
He looked like something from legend.
He looked like the Ancestors themselves might have looked when they walked the young world.
And shockingly, as if he had gained eyes in all directions, he began to feel like he could see many things all around him that he shouldn’t be able to perceive.
It wasn’t really seeing as much as it was feeling.
He was feeling the tendrils of Mana.
This region of the mountain where he stood, the mid-point of the mountain where stronger beasts roamed, the tribe far below where his people prepared for dangers they sensed but couldn’t identify.
All of it existed in his perception like a map drawn in flowing light.
He was shocked as even though he was quite a distance away from the village, when he focused his attention in that direction, he could sense Grandmother Essun as she pushed others with her gnarled stick, her ancient body moving with that deceptive speed that betrayed her apparent frailty, and her body...was shockingly filled with concentrated Mana.
He could sense the Chieftain and his daughter as they helped others erect the defensive walls, their Mana signatures familiar.
He was astonished as his eyes continued to shine with power, and he gazed out around the tribe at the stretches of the Lands of Stone that surrounded their small corner of existence.
He...
He...?
He frowned.
Because in that expanded perception, in that new sense that allowed him to feel Mana across distances that should have been impossible, he detected something that made his blood run cold.
He sensed fairly sizable clusters of Mana in a direction that shouldn’t hold anything but wilderness. Signatures of power that pulsed with the unmistakable rhythm of cultivated Warriors, hidden among the trees and stones where no Warriors of the Purple Stone Tribe should be.
All of this was new to him, this ability to perceive Mana at range, but the signatures he sensed were similar to Uncle Adam’s beside him in their basic nature while being distinctly different in their specifics.
When his gaze went in that direction, when he focused his new perception on that cluster of hidden power...
...!
His eyes opened wide.
He both sensed and saw the outlines of many Warriors concealed behind rising slopes and tall trees, their positions arranged in patterns that spoke of ambush and assault. Dozens of them, spread across the terrain in configurations designed to maximize damage and minimize escape.
One signature stood out from all the others.
A unique concentration of Mana that exceeded even Uncle Adam in its density and complexity, perched atop an Ancestor Pillar with a predator’s patience. Her eyes shone with a serpentine light that pulsed green even at this distance, and her gaze was piercing and cold as she looked directly at the Purple Stone Tribe with an intensity that held nothing good.
As he watched, she silently jumped down from the Ancestor Pillar she had been using as an observation post, her descent controlled by Mana that slowed her fall to something almost graceful.
She joined a small force of Warriors that numbered in the dozens.
Damian could see all of this with shocking clarity, as if his sight was traveling on Mana itself, riding the currents of power that flowed through this region to perceive everything nearby for a few miles in every direction.
All of this seemed to have its origins in the Primordial Tongue and the fact that right now, the letter of Persevere had actually been inscribed on his heart. The inscription had changed something fundamental about how he interacted with Mana, had elevated his perception to levels that normally required Circles of cultivation far beyond what he had achieved.
But he watched with a heavy gaze as the Warrior with the unique signature spoke to her assembled forces.
And Damian heard the words carried over through the waves of Mana, sound traveling on power like a message written in light.
"You, you, you..."
The serpentine-eyed woman pointed at several of her Warriors, her voice cold and commanding.
"Go in silently. Kidnap as many women as you can, find the women or kin of the Chieftain especially."
Her lips curled into something that might have been a smile if there had been any warmth in it.
"Let’s find out how Lukaku and my little Butcher died."
She turned to face the direction of the Purple Stone Tribe, and her serpentine eyes pulsed with green light that seemed to carry malice as a physical weight.
"These entire dregs of Dross... we’ll have their guts litter the stones around them today. Get ready!"
...!
Damian heard such words clearly, every syllable transmitted across the miles by the Mana that connected all things in this region.
And his eyes became immensely cold.
Within their depths, something he had always stifled arose like a beast that had been chained for too long and finally scented blood.
It was...a type of anger.
A fury that he had suppressed because expressing it...would remind him of too many terrible things.
It rose now.
And his body caused the stone he stood on to tremble fearfully, cracks spreading through rock that had endured for ages as power beyond what mere Bone Tempering should provide radiated from his existence.
Uncle Adam stepped back, his eyes wide.
"Young Lugal...?"
Damian didn’t answer.
He simply looked toward the direction of the Purple Stone Tribe, toward the forces that were preparing to slaughter many people, toward the Sworn woman who...
Who...
Who the fuck did she think she was?!
In her words, in her wanting of slaughter, he was reminded of all those slaughtered 8 summers ago!
And this time...he would not allow it!
DUM!
His heart beat with the letter of Perseverance inscribed upon it, and the nearby stones seemed to hold their breath in anticipation of the violence that was about to be unleashed!