Chapter 93: Treacherous journey [17]

Words : 1049 Updated : Sep 20th, 2025

Nightfall, Broken Courtyard, kilometers from the Scorchpaths Outskirts. The fire crackled low in the center of a broken courtyard. Its light cast long shadows over crumbling walls and wild overgrowth. Moonlight filtered through the jagged remains of glass towers, painting the world in pale silver. 59 days in the journey, the group was closer than ever before. Their journey to Africa was still just in its beginning phase, and yet it felt like they already traveled around the world. Afterall, with no convenient vehicles and jets to take one around a Behemorph-infested world, transportation was a luxury in the Echoterra age. Clayton sat with his back to a half-toppled statue, legs stretched toward the warmth. The air carried the scent of scorched moss and old metal, but here, in this moment, there was peace. After another hectic day of traveling through the Behemorph-infested wild, together at night, this group could finally wind down. Veyra crouched near the flames, polishing her bow. A fresh gash ran down her cheek, shallow but angry red from another deadly encounter they survived earlier in the day. She didn’t seem to notice the wound, or didn’t care. Across from her, Soren leaned against a slab of concrete, shirt half-off as he cleaned his armor plates. He was mostly silent as always, eyes distant, watching something only he could see. Lorn slept softly beside a collapsed signpost, wrapped in her cloak like a burrito. Kaelin? Twitchy, fast-talking Kaelin was already halfway through dismantling a battered machine he’d found in a ruin earlier in the day. "Old world tech, maybe salvageable. Maybe cursed. Who knows?" He’d said when he pocketed the wreck against Torren’s better judgement. The silence held, broken only by the hiss of sparks and the soft whistle of wind through broken stone. Clayton stared into the flames, one knee drawn up, arms resting on it. He wasn’t tired, not exactly. His Verdant Lord form pulsed hundreds of kilometers away, dormant but watchful. But the human part of him, this smaller body was weary in a way that bone didn’t explain. "Just 1 day remaining till we arrive at our first junction," he said suddenly, breaking the silence. Torren looked at him, a familiar look of suspicion on his face. Clayton smiled. When Torren confirmed it, he groaned. "C’mon. Not again". "Why not?" Clayton chuckled. "We’ve been so busy these past few weeks, moving from solving one problem to the other that I haven’t found the leisure to listen to your stories in such a long time". "Tonight is a rare quiet and peaceful night". "Why not take full advantage of it?" Torren groaned again, but inside, he felt thrilled to tell a story. The gods knew he was tired after the grueling trek. "So, which story this time? Don’t tell me it’s the Scorchpaths Clans again. Surely, you’re tired of hearing that story over and over again". Clayton smiled. Torren stared at him, lingered, stared some more, then he cursed. "F*ck!" Clayton laughed. "What do you want to hear this time?" "Just the key figures of the Scorched Clans again this time". Torren cursed again. "What a persistent bastard you are". In the end, he relented. "Well, there are not many key figures in the Scorchpaths Clans. Afterall, they’re not as big or expansive as the truly big factions like the Ironblood Remnants or the Rootbound Clans, not even the Verdant Apostates". "And of course, the first key figure in the hierarchy of the Scorchpaths Clans is Ashka the Emberborn. Though she’s deceased, she holds a special place in the heart of every Scorched warrior". "She’s their founder. At her peak, she was a Verdant Warden rank Awakened with Pyreheart Dominion, her legend driving the Clans’ fire worship". "Well, she’s dead now, so that’s that". "Maybe if she wasn’t dead, the Scorched Clans would be the 4th main faction in the world". He smirked. "Well, the fire-worshipping bastards don’t just have her. They also have new and current legends of their clans". Getting to this point, Torren’s face turned solemn as he looked at the faces of his teammates who were awake and cared enough to listen to his story. Veyra had a poker look on her face, showing no reaction when Torren looked at her. He smirked, then said. "Scorchlord Varkis". "He’s the new legend of the Scorched Clans". "Varkis is the current leader of the largest band, comprising 200 members, all elite Scorched warriors". "Chronicles of his band’s legendary raids transcend continents". "His achievements alone makes his rank obvious. Yes, he’s a Verdant Warden powerhouse, one of the strongest in the world". "In these regions, there’s a saying". "Flee on sight when you stumble upon the Varkis band. That’s how notorious and legendary they are". "Another thing that adds to Varkis and his band’s legend is the fact that he is the only one bold enough to raid major Rootbound Groves". "The fact that he’s been doing it for years and still breathes tells the full scale of his might". "And then there’s also Flamekeeper Sylith, a Luminous Seed Awakened of the Scorched Clans with Ashveil Shroud". "Unlike Varkis, she’s not well known for her strength, rather, she’s a key figure because she tends the Ember Conclave’s sacred fire, rumored to sense Nexus shifts". At the end of his story, Torren laid back on the concrete, a satisfied expression on his face as he admired the half-moon through the half-destroyed roof of the glass tower. Then, he looked at Clayton and smiled. "And boy, that’s all there is to know about the Scorched Clans". "Satisfied now?" Clayton nodded, a truly fascinated expression on his face. The expression on his face soon turned melancholic. "What’s on your mind?" Torren asked. Clayton shook his head. "Just amazed by how much the world changed from what it was 300 years ago". "Did you know that 300 years ago, vehicles freely roamed the world?" The group looked at him weirdly. Torren laughed. "Weirdo. You’ve started your rambling again, right? You sound like an old man at times". "That’s because I’m old. You guys just won’t believe it". "Very funny". Veyra stared at him, sarcasm printed all over her face. She yawned. "I’m going to sleep". That night, Clayton kept first watch. Nothing happened.

Chapter 93: Treacherous journey [17]

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