The Primeval Era-Chapter 55: Beast’s Mantle! III

For now, the most he could do was go up the nearby mountain and maybe test himself against the weaker Primal Beasts there, the creatures that didn’t cause Beast’s Mantles to form in their passing, but they had not formed Ancestral Hearts either.

"It’s not coming our way, so we’ll get a move on for now."

He turned away from the distant phenomenon.

"A trip to the mountain first, and then another trip toward the Golden Tribe."

He glanced at Grandmother Essun.

"Grandmother Essun..."

"Hmm, don’t worry, Tokoloshe."

The old Wisewoman smiled with that unsettling yellow-toothed grin of hers.

"I’ll be your guide again. We’ll have grand adventures!"

She cackled and struck the ground with her stick.

"The Wisewoman and the Tokoloshe... they may even write stories about us. Ka ka ka!"

This shrewd old woman said such words as Damian smiled and shook his head, already moving with Uncle Adam toward the mountain.

He kept his gaze on the flicker of that distant Beast’s Mantle as he wondered... would there be a future where even he could have enough power to cause a manifestation to appear above him at the mere output or expression of his power?

He thought of such things as he disappeared past the farmlands of the tribe and toward the mountain that awaited.

---

Far from the Purple Stone Tribe.

Many miles away, toward that manifestation that Damian and the others believed had been caused by the movements of a Behemoth Primal Beast. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

The storm of cloudy blue lightning crackled and roared, electricity dancing between formations of cloud that seemed too structured, too deliberate, too perfectly arranged to be natural phenomena.

And shockingly, there was no Primal Beast walking in the Lands of Stone below to be causing this.

Instead, unbelievably, inside this cluster of lightning and clouds was a floating cluster of radiant obsidian-white stone.

The stone actually had pulses of Mana forming into unique runic circles below it, ancient symbols that glowed with pale blue light and emanated constant power. These runes kept the floating stone aloft, defying the pull of the earth through means that went beyond mere cultivation, through arts that seemed closer to the celestial than the mortal.

The top of the stone was actually flat, clean, and simple, as if some great blade had cut through a mountain peak and lifted only the summit into the sky.

And at the center of this floating platform sat a serene white temple.

The temple was built of stone so pale it seemed to glow, its surfaces smooth and unmarked by the weathering that affected all earthly structures. Four white stone pathways led to the temple from the edges of the platform, each pathway wide enough for three people to walk abreast, each perfectly maintained despite the constant buffeting of the winds at this altitude.

And standing on each of these four pathways were Warriors.

But these were not Warriors like any that walked the territories below.

They held weapons that were neither stone nor bone, but something else entirely. Metal. Vibrant, sharp metal that caught the lightning’s glow and reflected it in blinding flashes. Blades that looked impossibly thin and impossibly deadly, forged through techniques that the Unbound Tribes and Vassal Tribes couldn’t even dream of.

Their armor was similarly advanced, fitted plates of that same unknown metal covering vital areas while leaving joints free for movement. Their garments beneath were white, matching the temple they guarded, and their bearing was that of soldiers who had trained since childhood for exactly this purpose.

And shockingly, among all of these Warriors, not a single man could be seen.

Each of them was a woman.

Each of them stood with the poise and the power of those who had earned their position through blood and skill rather than birth. The aura they emanated was no less than a Bone Tempering Warrior for each of them, their bones humming with stored Mana that crackled faintly in the lightning-charged air.

Some of them might even be a stage above this.

Dozens of such Warriors stood silently on the four pathways leading to the temple, their eyes scanning the skies with the vigilance of hawks seeking prey.

At the temple itself, there were four utterly terrifying women guarding the doorways, their bodies pulsing with thick tendrils of Mana so dense that the air around them seemed to warp and shimmer. They stood like statues, unmoving, unblinking, their attention fixed on the world beyond with an intensity that suggested they could spot a threat from miles away.

And in the center of the temple itself, surrounded by tall white stone pillars and elegant archways that seemed too delicate to exist in the brutal Lands of Stone, were two figures.

A beautiful old woman.

And a beautiful young woman.

The old woman sat upon a throne of that same white stone, her posture perfect despite her apparent age. Her features were striking, holding a quality that seemed preserved beyond natural aging, as if time had touched her only lightly despite the centuries that her eyes suggested she had witnessed.

And her eyes.

Her pupils were shining like radiant blue stars, burning with an inner light that had nothing to do with external illumination. This was a sign indicative of someone who had long since been refining their organs to the point that even their eyes radiated immense concentrations of Mana.

Such beings could simply stare at another, and the immensity that their eyes alone carried was enough to cause lesser creatures to kneel.

Even though she seemed to be an old woman, her features were so young that only her eyes gave off the sign of true age, the weight of perhaps a few hundred years contained within those stellar pupils. She looked to be in her prime in all other ways, her skin smooth, her bearing powerful, her presence overwhelming.

The young woman who knelt before her was equally striking.

Dark hair cascaded down her back in waves that seemed to absorb the light around them. She was adorned in a white robe of the same style as the temple guards, but finer, more elaborate, marked with subtle patterns that indicated her elevated status. Her skin was a radiant light caramel color, warm and healthy and glowing with the vitality of one whose cultivation had perfected her physical form.

And her pupils.

Her pupils were shockingly shaped like white wings.

They spread across her irises like the pinions of some great bird of prey, delicate feathers of pure white light that pulsed with Mana every time she blinked. These pupils alone made her seem ethereal and far from ordinary, a creature that belonged more to legend than to the mortal world.

Not to mention that even though she didn’t seem to be any older than twenty summers, her pupils that were shaped like white wings also pulsed with Mana in the same way that her master’s did.

She had also long since been refining her organs.

At twenty.

The power concentrated in this temple alone was terrifying, enough to make the mightiest Warriors of the Vassal Tribes seem like children playing with sticks.

The old woman was someone fearsome with a terrifying identity, a being whose name was spoken in whispers even among the Anointed Ones of a certain Empire.

And the young woman before her was simply... her disciple.