Chapter 89: The Kingdom of the Storm

The world dissolved into a roaring, grey chaos, but it was a chaos Ren did not create—it was the natural, violent temperament of the Shattered Peninsula, a storm he now intended to conduct. The GAMA skiffs were tossed about in the hurricane-force winds, their Aetheric shields flaring as they fought to stay airborne.

"All pilots, maintain altitude! Form a defensive circle!" the lead GAMA commander's voice blared, distorted by the screaming wind.

The Pagoda's Reaper drone, recovering with cold, mechanical speed, stabilized itself in the turbulent air. Its glowing crystalline eye fixed on Ren. A series of panels slid open on its chassis, and it unleashed a volley of dozens of small, silvery Suppression Needles, each one designed to disrupt a Spirit Master's internal Aether.

"Cowardly weapons," Zephyrion spat in his mind. "Do not let them touch you."

Ren didn't raise a wall of wind. Instead, he unleashed his own volley. With a flick of his wrists, dozens of small, azure "Thunder's Needles" erupted from his hands, each one a perfectly formed, high-speed projectile. His mind, honed by the Third Tempering, tracked each enemy needle, assigning one of his own to intercept it. The air between him and the drone filled with a furious, silent storm of azure and silver as his needles met the Pagoda's, neutralizing the volley in a series of tiny, crackling explosions.

It was a stunning display of precision and control, but the GAMA commanders could also feel the immense, and very finite, amount of Aether he had just expended.

The Reaper drone, its first attack a failure, immediately adapted. Its main cannon began to glow, gathering a dense, terrifying sphere of plasma energy. It was preparing a killing blow.

Ren knew he couldn't dodge or block it. He had one chance to end this.

He focused the entirety of his will. He drew upon a massive portion of his Aether reserves, the power roaring through his newly-forged channels. He channeled all of it into a single point before him, forging one, ultimate Thunder's Needle. This one was different. It was impossibly dense, compressing the energy of a hundred normal needles into a single, three-foot-long spear of solid, silent, azure lightning. The air around it warped and crackled. It was a costly, all-or-nothing attack.

The drone fired its plasma cannon. A searing white ball of energy screamed towards Ren.

At the exact same moment, Ren launched his spear.

The two attacks did not meet in the middle. Ren's spear, moving with a velocity that was almost a form of teleportation, was faster. It crossed the distance in a fraction of a second and struck the Reaper drone square in its glowing, crystalline eye—its one obvious weak point.

The drone's advanced alloy armor was incredibly durable, but it was not designed to withstand a direct strike from a weapon forged from a primordial soul. The Thunder's Needle punched through the eye-lens and detonated inside the drone's core processing unit.

For a moment, the drone simply froze, its plasma shot dissipating harmlessly a dozen feet from its cannon. Then, a web of azure light spread from its eye, tracing every circuit in its body. With a final, silent, catastrophic flash, the Reaper drone was vaporized from the inside out, its component parts turning to dust on the wind.

Ren stood on the cliff's edge, panting heavily, his Aether reserves dangerously low. He had won. He had demonstrated undeniable might. But it had come at a great cost. He was powerful, but he was not limitless.

He turned his tired gaze to the GAMA skiffs, which now hovered in a hesitant, terrified circle. Their mission had been to capture a rogue Apprentice. They had just watched that Apprentice single-handedly destroy one of the Spirit Lumina Pagoda's most advanced and valuable military assets.

The voice of the lead GAMA commander crackled over the wind, no longer a command, but a shaky, uncertain question. "Who... what... are you?"