Chapter 18: The Hunt for a Legend
Chapter 18 – The Hunt for a Legend
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A Terrible Plan is Still a Plan
"So let me get this straight," I said, rubbing my temples as I walked through the ruined streets of Pasuta. "We need to find a mystery guy who was apparently the only other person to carry the power of the fallen—before me."
"Correct," Korr said beside me, his arms crossed.
"But we have no name, no location, no clue where to start."
"Correct."
"And the only thing we do know is that Xyros is actively trying to unleash a cosmic horror that could erase us all from existence."
Korr nodded.
I sighed, dragging a hand down my face. "Awesome. No, this is great. I love it. Nothing like a galaxy-ending scavenger hunt to keep things exciting."
Korr smirked. "If it makes you feel better, it's not your problem alone."
"Oh? Who else's problem is it?"
"You're the one who absorbed the power of the fallen. So… yeah, still mostly your problem."
I groaned. "Fantastic."
Korr shrugged. "Look at the bright side—at least we're not dead."
"That's the bare minimum for a bright side."
"Exactly."
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A Lead Worth Fighting For
The first logical step in finding the lost warrior was, of course, to ask around.
Unfortunately, logical steps don't work when you're looking for someone who has supposedly been missing for centuries.
We spent hours interrogating old warriors, digging through archives, and questioning droids that hadn't had a memory update since the last Saiyan civil war.
Nothing.
Until—
"Wait." I stopped mid-step, a sudden thought hitting me. "There's one place we haven't checked."
Korr frowned. "And that is?"
"The Outlands."
Korr blinked. "The Outlands? The wastelands where only lunatics, exiles, and things-that-should-not-exist live?"
I pointed at him. "Exactly."
He sighed. "This is a terrible idea."
I grinned. "A terrible idea is still an idea."
"…I hate that you make sense sometimes."
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Welcome to the Outlands
The Outlands were exactly what I expected—a mess.
Twisted rock formations, blackened soil, and a sky that never quite decided if it wanted to be night or day. The energy here was thick, suffocating, like the echoes of a million battles had been burned into the land itself.
"This place is cursed," Korr muttered.
I looked around. "More like badly maintained. Seriously, who's in charge of landscaping here? Everything looks like it's been punched by a god."
"It probably was punched by a god."
"Fair point."
We pressed forward, my senses sharp. If the missing warrior was out here, we'd find him—assuming he wasn't already dead, crazy, or both.
Then, just as I was about to ask Korr if he felt anything—
Something exploded.
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The Mad Hermit
A blast of raw energy tore through the sky, hitting the ground just a few feet from us. The sheer force sent both of us flying backward, landing with a painful thud against the charred earth.
I groaned. "Ugh. That's a concussion."
Korr shook off the impact, his eyes narrowing. "Incoming."
I barely had time to register the words before a blur of motion streaked toward us.
I moved on instinct, ducking as a fist passed just inches from my face, fast enough to split the air. Korr countered with a sharp kick, but the figure twisted mid-air, dodging effortlessly.
We landed in a ready stance, finally getting a good look at our attacker.
The man—if he was a man—stood atop a jagged rock, his body wrapped in tattered battle gear, his hair wild and unkempt. His eyes burned with an intensity that felt ancient.
And he was laughing.
"Ahh, I was wondering when you'd show up!" he said, his voice gruff and way too excited for someone who just tried to punch my head off. "I was getting bored out here."
I squinted. "Okay. Who the hell are you?"
The warrior cracked his neck, grinning. "You already know the answer."
I glanced at Korr. He had the same oh no expression I did.
Because there was only one person who could've survived this long, alone, in the Outlands.
"You're him," I muttered.
The warrior smirked. "Depends who's asking."
"The one trying to stop the universe from being erased," I said.
His smirk widened.
"Then yeah. That'd be me."
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Lessons from a Relic
His name—at least the one he gave us—was Taro.
And apparently, he had been waiting for us.
The problem?
He wasn't exactly the mentor type.
"Alright," Taro said, arms crossed as he paced in front of me. "So, you've got the power of the fallen. Big deal."
I frowned. "It is a big deal."
"Not if you don't know how to use it."
I blinked. "I literally used it to beat an army of nightmares and make Xyros run like a coward."
Taro shrugged. "Cool story. Wanna gold star?"
I sighed. "You're worse than Korr."
"I like him," Korr muttered.
Taro ignored us both. "You think you're strong, kid? You're a candle in a hurricane. You think Xyros was scared of you? He wasn't."
I frowned. "He ran."
Taro nodded. "Yeah. Because he's smart. He's playing the long game. And right now? You're not even a piece on the board."
I hated that he made sense.
Taro stretched, yawning. "But hey, lucky for you, I'm feeling generous today."
I raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning I'm gonna teach you how to actually use that power before you get yourself killed."
Korr crossed his arms. "And why would you help us?"
Taro grinned. "Because I hate Xyros more than you do."
Oh.
That… was interesting.
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A Twist in the Story
Training with Taro was—how do I put this—absolute hell.
He fought like a man who had nothing to lose, throwing attacks that made my previous battles feel like warm-ups.
But the real kicker?
He knew about the power inside me. He knew things I didn't, things I hadn't even begun to tap into.
And as the days passed, one thing became painfully clear.
I wasn't strong enough.
Not yet.
But I would be.
Because deep down, I knew—Xyros wasn't the end of this story.
The First Shadow was still waiting.
And when the time came, I was going to be ready.
No matter what it took.
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Next Time on Ancient Legends…
Who is Taro, really?!
What secrets does he know about the power of the fallen?!
And what exactly is Xyros planning next?!
Find out next time on Ancient Legends!