Sumatra Chronicles: 1st Minor Crisis (Part 1)

Strength reigns supreme, not as the strongest, but as the fittest. A land of infinite possibilities, treacherous to the extreme, one where even endless preparation results in eventual death. A survivalist scape of endless conflicts, that was Sumatra Continent.

It was a vast expanse of land, stretching endlessly, brimming with vitality. Shrubs grew to the size of houses while trees resembled hills, reaching a uniform height of four hundred metres, gigantic. Their thick trunks resembled swords lodged into the landmass, fiercely.

Reddish, with traces of yellow amidst saps of green, the bark trailed across the tree trunks like a cluster of coiled serpents, their indentations creating unique, interlocking patterns, an exclusive feature of this species.

Decodus Tree, a species rumoured to form encoded maps of Sumatra Continent on its bark, a mere legend since the claim had yet to be verified. A verification was an impossibility, for strewn amid these trees was a hill in the shape of an igloo.

It spanned a height of 380 metres, a tad shorter than the trees and occupied no more than 122,000 square metres of land. Jet black dots littered its surface, covered by ribboned lids that fluttered under the wind.

Due to the structure of the holes, whistling sounds were produced as the wind flowed from one hole to another across a series of tunnels.

Fuooh!

There was a soft, splotching sound, following which a serpentine creature peeked out. A head triangular in shape, skeleton in appearance with a blunt nose, with colours ranging between white and grey. Its forked tongue slithered in and out of its buccal cavity, keeping track of various scents present in the air.

A pair of claws held the rim of the hole and pulled the serpentine body forward, greenish-brown in appearance, littered with dull scales. A three-metre-long serpentine body attached to a lizard head with an awkwardly protruding pair of arms; that was a creature brimming with mucous vitality.

Beginner Iron Grade Pranic Beast—Mud Viper!

It peeked out of its hole from the top of the nest, observing small clearings scattered in the forest of giant Decodus Trees. Present in each clearing was a Mud Viper nest. It was casual in its observation, almost nonchalant, one that was accompanied by a large cloud blotting out the sky, hovering at a kilometre in altitude.

It seemed a tad unusual, as the Mud Viper thought with its limited intelligence, only to be proven right immediately as descending through the clouds like a pillar of heavens was a prehistoric leg of untold proportions, dwarfing everything in the region.

Boom!

A thunderclap reverberated across the land, accompanied by intense quakes, alarming the Mud Vipers in countless nests, and causing them to scurry deeper inside the safety of their homes.

Covered by ivory, sporting a soft glisten under the sunlight to display a network of parallel, concentric grooves was the pillar that descended from the heavens. A soil tsunami was created as a result of this pillar’s stomp, but that wasn’t the end.

It was followed by a second pillar that stomped a few hundred metres nearby, generating another quake. The number of pillars descending from the clouds increased in number before soon, a gigantic figure became visible amidst the sea of clouds.

Mud Vipers fled in panic, their bodies sent hopping around every time a soil tsunami was created. Desperate, they slithered away from the series of quakes being generated along a single file.

A body that resembled a moving mountain, acting as a world of its own, unfettered by the lifeforms squirming for survival beneath its feet. The sheer mass present in this being of catastrophic proportions generated enough force of gravity to pull a sea of clouds alongside it, bringing rain wherever it went.

A living organism straight out of fiction, unrealistic in size, defying all laws of physics but one that existed in reality.

Is there a Deity? This was the answer to that question. A being of utmost grandeur that was akin to a Deity in the world of mortals, an entity of vitality that stood at the absolute peak, equalling to or even surpassing the heavens, hence titled…

Empyrean Tusk!

The mammoth being’s four legs descended from the clouds one after another, causing the land to rumble in response. Beyond the clouds, barely visible as a shadowy silhouette was a massive trunk that faced itself towards the sky and trumpeted.

It wasn’t alone but was merely the first of its kind travelling in a herd. Trailing past it in a single, uniform file were 43 Empyrean Tusks, altogether numbering 44, an absurd number of Deities roaming the earth.

Kurraalalalal!

Their trumpets were akin to the sounds of the heavens, reverberating through the entire landmass in the region, alerting the thousands of Mud Viper nests of their arrival.

Trailing towards the end of this grand file was an Empyrean Tusk that was thinner than the rest. Its ivory exoskeleton remained wrinkled, with many locations appearing dull and listless. Its thunderous footsteps were barely a quarter as loud as the others, a sign of decay and old age.

Hidden amidst the sea of clouds was a failing eye, irrecoverable due to old age. Yes, even these Deities weren’t immune to death. And the one trailing at the end of the herd, somewhat left behind and struggling to keep up was one remembered as the 44th Empyrean Tusk.

At an altitude of 120 metres from the ground, situated in a grove trailing across the 44th Empyrean Tusk’s leg was a grey-seemingly ivory-haired middle-aged man, holding a needle-shaped weapon in his hand.

The breadth of the groves varied from a metre to three metres, with its depth averaging around four metres. Running across the grove positioned vertically to the ground while treating it as flatland was the middle-aged man, acting as if the force of gravity didn’t affect him.

But once he leapt out of the grove, his figure fell to the ground, creating a minor thud. Spending less than three seconds on the ground, the middle-aged man carried with him a strip of Decodus Tree bark and rushed up the groove, making his way across the leg to pass through the clouds.

It took him a few minutes to scale past it and reach the back of the Empyrean Tusk where the groove walls were taller, with some of them reaching a height of forty metres. The breadth of the grooves varied here, forming patterns similar to a leaf’s veins when viewed from above.

The middle-aged man ran across, soon passing by the widest groove on the Empyrean Tusk’s back, one shaped like an elongated circle with pointed ends. These two ends acted as the sole exits for the grove and were one of the nodes most traversed by people similar to the middle-aged man.

Through one of these nodes, he entered the elongated circle, arriving at a large training ground surrounded by steep ivory walls. He passed by an intersection, stopping upon hearing sharp cries from someone, seemingly young and immature.

“Cowardly bastards!” Clutching a broken right hand in pain, trying his best to avert his gaze from the arm bone protruding outward was a boy aged fourteen. His hair was greyish-white just like the rest but sported an ivory sheen similar to the groove walls.

A square face with sunken cheeks, accompanying a frail body to champion malnutrition was the injured boy, glaring in anger at the three similarly aged individuals before him, his voice a beastly growl, “Fighting is forbidden in the Academy grounds.”

“Fighting? Don’t kid yourself, Resha.” Among the three individuals, acting as the leader of the cronies was a well-built boy with a smug expression. He stared at the injured individual with disdain, “I merely touched your hand and it broke. It’s not my fault you’re…delicate.”

“Stop!” A feminine voice filled with righteousness resounded as a girl appeared between the trio and the injured boy addressed as Resha. Sporting a young, delicate face with shoulder-length hair that accentuated her innocent expression, the girl shouted at the trio, “Don’t bully Resha!”

“Nanny Ruvva is here!” The leader of the trio rolled his eyes before spitting in the direction of Resha, “Aren’t you ashamed to hide behind a junior, Resha?”

“Don’t you dare…” Resha roared in response when suddenly, he felt the atmosphere turn silent. Feeling the presence of someone behind him, he turned around to stare at the figure of the towering middle-aged man who sported a cold, emotionless face while emanating a stench of blood similar to a predator, “I-Instructor Turo. I was…”

“Are you free enough to mess around?” The middle-aged man, Instructor Turo stared down at Resha, “Remember that you have less than a year to live. Fail to prove your worth to the Clan and I’ll chuck you into the mouth of a Pranic Beast. It’s my duty to do so.”

“And until now, you have achieved nothing.” Instructor Turo glared at Resha, treating the latter as garbage, stressing harder, “Nothing.”

“…I’ll work hard.” Resha bowed his head in response, unable to refute.

“Just kill yourself instead of wasting valuable Clan resources.” Saying so, Instructor Turo shouted, addressing the over three hundred students on the training grounds, “Take positions,”

“Class is about to begin.”

While Instructor Turo walked away, Ruvva rushed to Resha’s aid, “Your injury is horrible. Let me realign your bone.”

“I’m alright, Ruvva.” Resha retracted his injured right hand and applied pressure on it, forcefully lodging it back in place, “I’ve had this happen to me enough times to get the hang of it.”

“Why…aren’t you retaliating?” Ruvva expressed pain, her eyes moist as she stared at him, “I can’t bear to see you suffer.”

“Retaliate?” Resha sighed and clutched his chest, “If I breathe fast, my ribs crack. I’m the last person in our Clan that can fight anyone.”

“Even a baby can best me.”

“You’re talented in fighting. I know that for a fact.” Ruvva expressed her grief, “When my dad was around, he always praised your parents for being gifted in the way of fighting. And I believe you have inherited the talents of both.”

“I hope that is the case.” Resha shook his head and egged Ruvva, “Class is starting. Return to your seat.”

“I’ll come find you later.” Ruvva stared at his injury in worry and walked away.

Right as Ruvva turned her back towards him, Resha quickly wiped out the tears that streamed out of his eyes. He bit onto his hand and stopped himself from hollering in pain. ‘Aaaarghh!’

He had been controlling himself to avoid worrying Ruvva further. She was the sole individual in this damned place that cared about him.

Death Row!

An exclusive seating arrangement meant for him, for his death sentence was already set in stone. No, he didn’t commit a crime. Or maybe, being born a cripple in a life-threatening world wrought with danger was a sin enough.

He was afflicted with the Fragment Disease, a mysterious disease that turned his bones brittle, capable of fracturing at the slightest exertion. Due to that, Resha was incapable of holding himself in a fight. Even performing day-to-day chores posed a life risk to him.

Born with such a fate, he was a mere drain on the Clan’s resources, even though all he consumed to date was a sparse amount of food and water. Hence, his death sentence was announced. In a year, when he graduates from the Academy and is officially recognised as an adult, if Resha fails to contribute to the Clan, he’ll be disposed of.

‘How the fuck am I supposed to do that when I can’t even take a shit without cracking my thigh bone!’ He bellowed mentally and took a seat at the end of the group of 300 students, the sole individual in his row, since it was meant for those like him—left with a limited living time.

It was demoralising to be seated in the Death Row, for he was reminded every second of his time there that his days of being alive were numbered, ‘What should I do to survive?’

He was an orphan, left with no one to rely upon. Shunned, ostracised, and ridiculed for his weakness, that was Resha, aged 14, left with a year to live.

“Today, we’ll go over the basics.” Instructor Tura eyed the people as he snapped his index finger and pulled out the bone, using it to point at the Decodus Tree bark in his hand, “Pain is temporary. The faster you get used to it, the more you’ll be valued by the Mammoth Clan. Now,”

“Repeat after me.”

“Pain is temporary!” A student among the crowd of 300 cried in pain as she similarly ripped out her index finger. But a moment later, she was unable to endure and fainted.

“Weak,” Instructor Turo clicked his tongue at the student, even though the latter was merely eleven years old, a kid that hadn’t even entered puberty.

In habit, the leader of the cronies that bullied Resha stuffed a piece of cloth in his mouth and used it to muffle his screams as he broke off a finger. Many others copied his actions.

“Barely passable,” Instructor Turo commented upon hearing the series of muffled grunts from the students. His eyes then fell on Resha to see the latter was already ready with a broken finger. He pointed at him with discontent and motioned him to get up, “Make a demonstration, Resha.”

“Use Mystic Bone Art to transform your finger into a Spirit Weapon…” Instructor Tura hadn’t finished speaking when suddenly, the ground jerked violently.

Internal Inertial Gravity!

A mystical power exclusively wielded by Empyrean Tusks that allowed them to govern over the likes of gravity within their body. It was this power that propped up their unrealistically huge body and prevented it from collapsing on itself.

Moreover, it was thanks to this power that Instructor Turo could scale across the Empyrean Tusk’s leg before like it was flat ground. As long as one was in the confines of the Empyrean Tusk’s body, irrespective of which direction they stood with respect to the earth, they’d feel as if they were on flat land.

Internal Inertial Gravity also prevented any shocks from being transported to the people living on the Empyrean Tusks, the only reason they could survive on these moving behemoths of mass. But now, they all felt the tremor, a sign of pressing times, the beginning of a crisis.

The herd continued to speed away and increase the gap between them and the 44th Empyrean Tusk, causing the latter to feel a sense of hurry.

The path of the herd meandered between the Mud Viper nests, taking care to not damage them, for doing so would garner the latter’s ire. At least a million Mud Vipers lived in each Mud Viper nest, a number too many for the over forty thousand people living on the back of an Empyrean Tusk to contend against.

In a land of inherent danger, even these Deities had to remain a group to avoid being swarmed to death. Hence, the herd of Empyrean Tusks avoided trouble and took measures to forge a path without damaging any Mud Viper nests.

But in its hurry to not lose sight of its herd, the 44thEmpyrean Tusk increased its speed, an irrecoverable mistake. Its failing eyesight and its frail, collapsing body caused it to stumble and by mistake, set foot on a Mud Viper nest, destroying a portion of it.

It had stumbled so hard that its inherent ability, Internal Inertial Gravity, a power that remained active from birth got deactivated for an instant. In that instant, the accumulating inertia caused a rebound, resulting in a tremor that quaked throughout the settlement on its back.

On the ground, thousands of Mud Vipers poured out of the nest, angry at their home getting destroyed. They vowed to exact revenge, even if the target of their revenge was a Deity.

Followed by hisses and screeches, they slithered through the grooves on the 44th Empyrean Tusk’s exoskeleton, took advantage of the latter’s Internal Inertial Gravity to treat the grooves as flat ground and continued to speed upward.

“Stop them!”

“Defend the nodes!”

“Prevent them from infiltrating the Empyrean Tusk’s insides!”

Those part of the settlement rushed into the grooves to fight against the Mud Vipers, shouting for help immediately in response as they were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the invaders.

Primary Nature—Mud Ball!

An ability inherent to a creature that came to it as naturally as breathing, that was a Primary Nature. A Mud Viper slithered at the forefront of its brethren, opened its mouth and shot a Mud Ball at its humanoid enemy.

The Mud Ball splashed upon impact and solidified, constricting the target. Multiple Mud Balls followed suit, launched by its brethren to transform the target into a sculpture of mud. One of them latched onto his head and bit hard, dripping a certain toxin that softened the mud at the point of contact.

The Mud Viper drilled through the hole and clobbered the target’s head, feasting upon their brain. Rushing past it were hundreds of Mud Vipers, ravenous in their desire to rip apart everyone.

Even after a minute since they began charging out, there was still an endless horde of Mud Vipers gushing out of their nest. This was why the Empyrean Tusk herd avoided damaging the Mud Viper nests, for living in each were at least a million of these crawlers.

Normally, Mud Vipers scurried forth to avoid dangerous existences such as the Empyrean Tusks. But damaging their homes was akin to touching their reverse scale, an act that made the Mud Vipers lose their mind and exact revenge upon the culprit, throwing their lives for the cause.

A good portion of the Mud Viper nest had been destroyed when the 44th Empyrean Tusk’s foot slammed into it from the clouds. The igloo-like part on the surface was merely a tiny portion of the nest. It was similar to an anthill, with a majority of it being underground.

Hence, most of the Mud Viper nest remained unharmed. And the Mud Vipers there—safe from the stomp—joined the cause, intending to kill the Empyrean Tusk that dared destroy their home.

Kurra-alalala!

The 44th Empyrean Tusk trumpeted in pain when the Mud Vipers began targeting its joints with Mud Balls, intending to constrict its movements. Its bones cracked in response when it forcefully moved them, only for the joints to be sealed up once again.

If all the Mud Vipers in the destroyed nest were to invade its being, it would die. Hence, it needed to flee the region of activity of the Mud Viper nest. Mud Vipers were extremely territorial and wouldn’t barge into the territory of other Mud Viper nests.

The 44th Empyrean Tusk struggled to break free, but despite its plight, it neither called for help nor did the rest of its herd come to assist it.

The Empyrean Tusk herd’s movements were high profile. Every single Mud Viper nest in the region was in a state of alert, mostly afraid. But they also became ready to swarm these Deities if their nests were to get damaged in the slightest.

More and more Mud Vipers were converging in the nests at the surface, prepared for war.

If the Empyrean Tusks were to commit a mistake in such a precarious situation, they would be swarmed to death. The wisest option was to prioritise the herd’s survival and get out of the region as soon as possible.

There was no room to turn around, for their paths were only wide enough to walk through, surrounded by the nests. The 44thEmpyrean Tusk had only slightly deviated from the path and ended up damaging a Mud Viper nest. The risks were apparent enough, and hence, the Deity that committed a mistake was left to fend on its own, only able to rely upon the worshippers living on its back.

“Check what is happening, Mandu.” Instructor Turo commanded one of the instructors who rushed out and returned a minute later, pale-faced.

“Our Deity stepped on a Mud Viper nest. They’re invading us in return.” Instructor Mandu said in a hurry, “We need to evacuate the students.”

“You heard him!” Instructor Turo’s booming voice reverberated aloud as he pointed at the Shelter situated at the rear end of the training grounds. “Run to the Shelter! Hurry!”

Situated along the walls bordering the academy grounds to lead into a large, enclosed hall was the Shelter, large enough to protect the three hundred students. It was robustly constructed to keep them safe, its only unfortunate detail in this situation was the distance between it and the training ground.

“Resha! Quit dawdling around. We need to run, now!” Ruvva approached a stunned Resha and grabbed his hand, mistakenly applying too much strength in her hurry as she cracked the bone of his already damaged right hand.

Hiss! Pss-ksssh! Hiss!

Resha took a step forward when suddenly, he, alongside all the students at the Academy, became too stunned to take a step forward. Sounds that caused their skin to crawl reverberated around them, getting closer rapidly, like a tidal wave.

Intense explosions resounded amidst the hisses, only to be drowned in a matter of seconds. Those facing the Mud Vipers were bombarded with attacks, turned into mud sculptures, and devoured efficiently.

Fear! Hopelessness! Despair! Encroaching Death!

Resha looked around and could feel it in the air. His due date for death had been preponed by a year. He was dying today, not in the mouth of a single Pranic Beast, as originally intended, but being ripped apart by a dozen, if not hundreds of them.

“Haa…hah…haaaah!” Resha gasped, breathless, unable to move, drowned by fear. Danger had existed around them all along, but it had never been this close, touching their bodies, feeling their skin, and crawling up their insides.

“What are you gawking for? Run!” Instructor Turo bellowed and unleashed a burst of energy that dissipated the coldness in the bodies of the students, allowing them to resume running.

“I’m scared, Resha. Run faster!” Ruvva trembled in fear as she could hear the hissing sounds draw nearer. But no matter how afraid she was, she never let go of her hold over Resha, using her strength to drag him faster.

“Leave me behind and run, Ruvva!” Resha said weekly, noticing one of his legbones had cracked when he was emotionally overwhelmed and tried to run faster, hence exerting more force in his legs.

“No! I won’t leave you behind…” Ruvva shouted when suddenly, a needle weapon made out of bone pierced through her clothes and lifted her into the air. Following that, it flew with force and brought her into the shelter, dumping her there alongside the other students.

“Too damn slow!” Instructor Turo snorted in irritation as he controlled the needle weapon using psychokinesis, carrying the lagging students into the shelter. However, he was extremely biased in his approach, prioritising students who had talent and displayed potential to contribute to the Clan in the future or had already done so.

Ruvva specialised in the field of medicine thanks to her grandmother, having already contributed to the Clan. Hence, Instructor Turo prioritised her safety above others. Needless to say, Resha was the least of his concerns.

Rather, he hoped Resha would die in this crisis, ‘A leech of the Clan’s resources. Why must he alone be made an exception when others like him have been chucked into a Pranic Beast’s mouth well in advance?’

“Worthless trash.” He commented upon seeing Resha drag his feet towards the shelter. His eyes then shot towards the three cronies purposefully falling behind others, “Heh.”

“Guard the entrance.” Instructor Turo split the group of Instructors into two teams and sent them in opposite directions, “The rest of you guard the exit.”

“I alone am enough to protect the shelter.”

There were only two paths leading into the academy grounds. Hence, as long as the two nodes were defended well, the academy ought to be safe.

“Well, well, well, look at our hero dragging his feet.” One of the cronies jogged beside Resha with a taunting tone, “Did your mother not give you a good leg?”

“Maybe she too was a cripple.” The crony running on the other side of Resha commented, eliciting laughter from the trio.

“Bastard! Don’t you dare talk about my…” Resha punched forth at the second crony, only to trip and fall, “Mo…khack!”

“You punched first.” The leader of the cronies muttered with a snicker from behind, having been the culprit behind Resha’s fall. He then casually kicked Resha in the knee and sprinted away upon seeing it shatter, “Good luck surviving that.”

“Let’s run, fellas.”

“Argh!” Tears streamed out of his eyes in pain as Resha was unable to move. His kneecaps had been destroyed. He couldn't walk after this. He was sixty metres away from the shelter, a distance too short for others, but an impossibility for him.

“Am I…am I going to die?” Resha muttered, watching in helplessness as the door to the shelter slammed shut, the distressed face of Ruvva being the last he saw of his peers. Instructor Turo calmly stood guard before the door, conveniently ignoring his existence.

“Mom! Dad!” Resha screamed, unable to even crawl forward with a broken arm and leg, “Why have you abandoned your son?”

Hiss! Pss-ksssh! Hiss!

He witnessed the Mud Vipers climb over the Academy walls and rush into the Academy grounds, en masse, against Instructor Turo’s expectation, leaving behind no room for escape. Death was guaranteed, for others, even more for him as he resigned himself to his fate, unwilling, but forced to do so.

His last act of rebellion was against the beings that brought him to this messed up world in such a fragile, disease-ridden body, “Why did you birth me like this? Why…aren’t you alive? Why does everyone want me to die?”

“WHY?”