The Men Hath Returned (1)

Ever since he arrived in the Erna Frozen Isles, he realized that Phaenora was silent. It wasn't as if she was inactive.

She couldn't hear her voice in his head.

Instead, she produced words from her hologram instead for them to have a proper conversation. She didn't know why she couldn't speak but she could tell that it was because of the Epoch Cycle.

Every time he killed the Krepsunas, he could feel his body absorbing their miasma, which was converted to energy that made him stronger.

It seemed that Natas gave Vastarael the ability of obtaining more power from killing Krepsunas and other beings, similar to all academy students even though he uses a different Omniscient compared to them.

He also came to realize the different ranks of Krepsunas.

The Krepsuna hierarchy was based on their strength, intelligence and abilities, but also on their ability to adapt to the harsh environments they lived in.

Over the past eleven days, Vastarael had witnessed several different types of Krepsunas, each more terrifying than the last.

For the Essentia, a rank close to them were the Warped, who are twisted and mutated creatures from their original forms. These Krepsunas are more unpredictable and strong.

This is what Vastarael was dealing with at the camp and then they fought with Elyonari at the Fourth Passageway.

As for the Ascenders, they were the Sunderers.

For the Divine, they were the Scavengers. For the Gods, the Forgotten, for Primordial Gods, the Overlords and for the Nexuses are the Phantasms.

As the ranking of the beings involve the Nexuses, Primordial Gods, Gods, Divine, Ascenders, Essentia and Normals...

The Krepsuna ranking involved the Phantasms, Overlords, Forgotten, Scavengers, Sunderer and Warped.

Vastarael, with his sharp senses and keen observations, noted that the Krepsunas he had been slaying were definitely the Warped ranks. They were a constant threat to the tribe and every morning, he was their protector, mowing them down with ease.

What was truly disturbing was that even in their form, these creatures were able to adapt and survive in an environment as harsh as the Erna Frozen Isles. They could thrive in places where most would perish.

Vastarael, after taking down the last of the Krepsunas that day, stood tall, dripping with their black blood. His hands gripped the handle of his sapphire glaive with practiced ease. The creatures' bodies lay strewn around him, lifeless, yet he couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy.

There was something far greater and more terrifying lurking in the deep, and it wasn't long before he realized that he would eventually have to face even more deadly Krepsunas.

Perhaps even a Sunderer.

The thought of facing such beings did not unsettle him, though. Vastarael had learned to take things one step at a time, and if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he could defend the people for now. So, he had to focus on surviving in this new world and understanding the mysterious forces at play.

The more the people trusted him, the more he would learn about this place.

And on the twelfth day, the male warriors finally arrived.

°°°°°°

The warriors of the Erna Frozen Isles returned with heavy loads of game, their steps crunching against the frost-bitten snow as they crossed the last ridge overlooking the village. Spirits were high among them as they spoke of their excitement to reunite with their families.

"Bet my little one's already counting the minutes," one of the older men said with a warm laugh.

Another younger warrior smirked. "And my sweetheart probably has something warm and sweet waiting for me."

They joked and chatted until they reached the base of the ridge, but their laughter faltered when the familiar sound of the bustling village was drowned out by an unusual chorus of soft laughter, gasps of delight, and murmurs of awe.

"What's going on?" One of the younger men asked, his brow furrowed as they pushed forward into the village.

At the heart of the square, the source of the commotion became clear.

A wide circle of women had formed and at its center stood Vastarael. He was dressed in a pristine robe, the faint shimmer of sapphire energy trailing from his fingers as he waved his hand in the air. Runes began to form, glowing faintly before fading into the icy atmosphere.

The women surrounding him—wives, daughters, and even mothers—watched with wide, sparkling eyes. Their gazes were fixed on him, charmed by his every movement and word.

He looked like a shepherd surrounded by curious lambs, all mesmerized by two things.

"See? That's the Heat Rune," Vastarael said as he finished drawing a blue symbol in the air. "It's stable now because I've corrected the flow."

Gasps of amazement rippled through the crowd.

"You're not speaking them," one of the women murmured in awe, her cheeks flushed. "You're drawing them. That's…"

"Impossible," another whispered.

"But he's doing it," said a younger woman. "And he makes it look so effortless…"

Vastarael turned slightly, his radiant curly white hair catching the afternoon sun, which framed him like a celestial figure.

"It's all about balance and understanding. Rune Speaking is a beautiful art, but Rune Drawing? That's where you can truly manipulate the essence of the world. Unfortunately, none of you can do it. However, I should be able to show you how to use the runes while speaking them."

The warriors stood frozen, watching the scene with disbelief.

"Is that… my wife?" One of the men muttered, his voice thick with confusion and rising irritation.

"Mine's there too," said another, his fists clenching at his sides. "What's she doing, sitting there like some love-struck girl?"

"I left to hunt for two weeks, and this is what I come back to?"

Their initial confusion shifted quickly into resentment. The women they expected to welcome them with open arms were enraptured by a stranger instead, hanging on his every word. The atmosphere they had imagined was replaced by the sharp sting of envy.

Vastarael, meanwhile, continued to teach, completely unbothered by the arrival of the men. He did sense them arriving but he didn't care.

He was interested in Rune Speaking and since he had nothing to do all day, he wanted to gain a good reputation with the tribe. Something told him that he was sent here for a reason by the Epoch.

"The key," he explained, gesturing to the women, "is in how you focus your essence. Watch closely."

He drew a glowing, blue rune that seemed to hum with latent power.

"This one will create a temporary barrier. As you all know, it means barrier in Xinoraci."

With a flick of his wrist, the rune vanished, and a faint shimmering blue hemispherical field surrounded the gathered circle. The women gasped and clapped in awe, their admiration intensifying.

"Remarkable…" whispered one of the older women, her cheeks slightly red. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Neither have I," another replied, her eyes practically sparkling. "And look at him… he's so composed. So... perfect."

The warriors' irritation deepened as they noticed the women's lingering stares.

"He's just… drawing pictures," one man grumbled, though his voice lacked conviction.

"Pictures? Did you see the barrier he made?" Another retorted bitterly.

"Whatever he's doing," an older warrior interjected, "it's clear the women have forgotten what real strength looks like. How come they have not—"

But the man could finish, Vastarael turned toward them, his golden eyes calm but piercing. For a brief moment, the air around him seemed to grow colder, as if daring them to challenge him.

The women turned to face the men and they momentarily paused before they began to race towards them. It was as if they were so obsessed with...

Anyways, they were glad that all of them came back alive.

"Ah," he said, breaking the silence with a serene smile. "The hunters have returned. I trust your hunt was successful?"

The men bristled at his tone. It wasn't mocking, but it was too smooth, too confident. And the way the women remained seated around him, barely glancing at their husbands or fathers, only fueled their resentment.

One of the younger warriors stepped forward, his chest puffed out in an attempt to assert dominance.

"Who are you?" He demanded, his voice loud and harsh. "And what are you doing here?"

Vastarael raised a single brow, his expression unbothered.

"I'm teaching Rune Drawing to your people. And as for who I am…" He turned back to the crowd, casually finishing another rune with a flick of his fingers.

"Let's just say I'm someone who can do what others can't."

The women murmured their agreement, their gazes filled with admiration.

The young warrior's face darkened, but before he could respond, someone smacked Vastarael's shoulder.

"You don't like telling people your name, do you?"

The young warrior gasped when he saw the chief's daughter standing right beside the handsome man.

"Rienne, can you say and write my name well?"

She faltered before she gave him a pout.

"For a handsome man, you sure don't know how to take a woman's joke."

"I've heard that a lot from my sisters."

The young man was speechless.

The handsome man was taking the woman of his dreams in front of him.

______

By the way, in case you didn't know, Vastarael's name is pronounced as Vas-ra-el. The syllable 'ta' is silent. Decided to put this here just in case you didn't know.

Just think of it as an alien language.

And Elyonari is Ela-yo-nari. Adelasta is the same way it's written. If you're not sure of how to pronounce a name, just ask me. I'll clarify it.