The Veiled Man
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Martial Arts Vs Magic - Chapter 89
🕑 Added 2025-02-19 16:48:27 +0000 UTCChapter 89: Survivors of the Storm
“What are you doing here, O’ Great White One?” Bai Xiuying, that young qilin who she’d seen grow into a fine woman asked reverently.
She hasn’t grown much stronger since the last time I met her. Pity. Vargathrian thought, noticing the girl’s posture straightening under her gaze. The air carried the crisp scent of pine and lingering frost. All around her, jagged peaks loomed, echoing the aftermath of the demigods’ earlier clashes.
“After the clash with the Obsidian Family,” she replied slowly, her calm voice resonating through the thin mountain air, “we Lunewolves emerged victorious. I’m sure you have heard the news. That old Vampire is dead. However, we have paid a steep price.”
“I’ve heard so, yes,” Bai Xiuying nodded.
“Mhm,” she hummed. “We lost too many during the battle. So I’m out here, recruiting werewolves and demi-wolves worldwide. The Highlands just happened to be one of my destinations. Didn’t plan to stay; I merely passed by.” She offered a slow shrug. “Allow me to apologize. I would’ve sent a messenger, but I expected to leave quickly.”
“N-no need to apologize,” Bai said, smiling, her jade antlers flickering with residual energy from the earlier fight. “Did you find new members—”
“What’s your relationship to this boy, O’ Great White One?” Ao’kai cut in, arms crossed over his scaled chest. His tone was all impatience and edge, but at least he’d used a respectful address. Otherwise, she’d have been irritated.
Bai Xiuying’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at his interruption, yet she held her tongue when Vargathrian turned to regard the dragon. A chill gust swept across the battered mountaintop, carrying the sharp tang of broken stone and melted snow.
“...You two are rather lucky,” she said softly, walking over to check on the unconscious pair. The snow under her massive paws hissed with each step. She placed a paw on the human boy’s injured chest, divine energy flaring. Then she paused. “Hmm.”
Her gaze flicked to the stump where his forearm should’ve been. Why hadn’t it regrown, given the phoenix flames earlier?
Her divine eyes could see what normal could not. His entire body had clearly been reborn not long ago—fresh scars gone, old wounds mended—but for some reason, the missing forearm stayed missing. Not an accident, then. A choice. Curious. She brushed the thought aside for now, deciding to ask about it when he woke.
“Hey,” Ao’kai pressed, voice rough. “Could you finish what you were saying?”
She tilted her head, shooting him a faintly irritated look. His posture stiffened, and the way he swallowed, it was clear he still remembered exactly who she was. “I was saying you two are lucky—especially you, Ao’kai.” She gave him a measured glance, then shifted her weight in the snow.
He stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
From the way his expression shifted, he assumed she was threatening him. Something like ‘You’re lucky you didn't kill him, otherwise I'd have killed you myself.’ But that wasn't what she meant, though she understood why he was frightened.
Common people didn't know how insane the reputation of Vargathrian was.
The “First Apocalypse” part of her title wasn't for show. She indeed was the first end that the planet had faced. Before the Great Renewal that came with the System, the world had met its end four times before.
It was Vargathrian who brought the very first apocalypse. Drangarök, the end of the world. She, the First Wolf, was destined for that incident.
Although she was a far different person after that incident millennia ago, not only had she been sealed for thousands of years, only reawakening this millennium, but she had also been greatly weakened by the current Twelve Gods. Back then, she was a weapon of destruction; nowadays, she is a caring matriarch.
She even helped save the world once, becoming a Hero, which also buried her past as a villain. Even so… she was a name that stood out among the Nine Ascension entities. As one of the oldest creatures on the planet, she was also greatly respected even if she wasn't as strong as her prime. The two demigods didn't dare disrespect her.
Vargathrian shook her head. “Not a threat. Merely… a statement.”
The atmosphere was tense, with swirling snow and aftershocks still rolling off the battered landscape. Bai Xiuying remained quiet, watching the ancient wolf with respect. The hush stretched for a long moment, broken only by the faint rattling of leftover debris.
Vargathrian finally sighed. “The truth is, if things had gone differently, you’d be in a far worse situation right now. Perhaps you’d have been the one unconscious.”
The dragon’s face hardened at her words, “He’s a mere 5th Ascension human, Great White One. I feel insulted,” he said, and she didn’t reply just yet, letting the words marinate.
She slowly turned her head back to Iskandaar, letting azure energy coil around her paw as she checked his condition. The guy still slumbered, battered but alive. Next, she moved to the phoenix girl, repeating the process even though the phoenix didn’t need it. Both of them had faintly stabilized.
“This young thing,” she nodded toward Iskandaar, “we first met back when the Obsidian and Lunewolves clashed recently. He… killed the Vampiric Father.”
“What?!” Bai and Ao’kai echoed, their voices overlapping.
Vargathrian grunted. “I’d have died in that confrontation if not for him, which means my entire tribe would be no more. So I owe him a lot.”
Ao’kai stared, disbelief plain on his face. “But… with all due respect, he is not that strong. How’d he—”
“Are you calling me a liar, boy?” the white wolf rumbled, tail flicking with the threat of stored power. The dragon snapped his jaw shut immediately.
She exhaled. “I have my suspicions about him. Firstly, he’s the grandson of Sikandar of Erebia. But I think there’s more going on than just his family. But… I don’t want to speculate until I have proof because the implications involve the 72 Devils.”
The two just exchanged glances. A lot was said in that short speech, bringing not only Sikandar but also the 72 Devil Pillars into the fold. Ao’kai looked nervous now.
“Fact is, he took out the old vampire with one single blow. Well, I made the last attack, but it was he who did most of the work. He’s not weak. Yet,” she flicked her gaze at Ao’kai, “you pushed him. Hard. But he never unleashed that destructive move. It’s fortunate. Maybe because there were multiple Ninth Ascensions here, or maybe he’d somehow sensed I was nearby… I don’t know. I just know that you lucked out.”
Ao’kai’s expression scrunched, equal parts frustration and confusion. “Hmph.”
“Do you know why he came here?” she continued, glancing between Bai and Ao’kai.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Ao’kai rumbled, flicking his tail irritably. “He wanted Feng Huang’s Essence, and he got it. And you’re stopping me from punishing him for it.”
“He’s also apparently hunting the Demon Blade of Kurayami,” Bai Xiuying added, frowning as she recalled the shrine keeper’s report. “Said something about a deeper reason, but that’s all I know.”
Vargathrian ignored Ao’kai and hummed, her frosty breath pluming in the cold air. “Interesting. He’s always up to something. Who else traveled with him?”
“I was told about Goryeo’s First Princess, someone who we’d blessed during her birth,” Bai answered. “Ah, and a demi wolf maid accompanies them, from what I hear.”
A sudden spark lit the ancient wolf’s golden eyes. “Truly?!” She paused, then coughed, regaining composure. “Ahem. That’s… well, must be my granddaughter. I’d Marked the boy with her as the anchor.”
“Oh.” Bai Xiuying looked mildly intrigued, while Ao’kai crossed his arms, letting out a grumpy snort.
“Congratulations,” Ao'kai said. “To have such a fine grandson-in-law. Who steals from divinity and lives to see the next day.”
“Get over it, Ao'kai,” Vargathrian said, ignoring his attitude. “It is not as if you'd have given up the Essence on your own. Someone had to take it on their own, and this boy’s subordinate just happened to succeed. I commend them for it.”
Ao’kai turned his head away, while Bai sighed. Vargathrian added, “Ao’kai, you should be grateful to be alive. The Essence is his and his subordinate’s now. Enough bickering, you two can let this fiasco go.”
“Feh,” the dragon spat, but he didn’t say anything. Though his tail twitched, betraying annoyance.
“I have an idea,” she turned back to Bai Xiuying, ears perked. “Take Ao’kai back home with you, will you? It’s about time you two worked out that… leftover tension from centuries ago.” Her voice teased the edges of command, leaving no room for debate. “You’re both widowers. Maybe stop clinging to ghosts.”
“H-huh?”
“Wait, what—” Bai’s cheeks tinted faint jade, and Ao’kai’s scaly brow furrowed. Their protests died the moment the giant wolf leveled them with a look.
Vargathrian smirked, stepping forward to press a massive paw onto Ao’kai’s shoulder. “Now go.”
Before they could protest further, Bai grabbed the dragon’s arm. He tried jerking away, but she scowled, and in a burst of swirling green and jade, the pair vanished like they’d never been there. The wind hushed, as though even the mountaintop was relieved.
That left Vargathrian alone with Iskandaar and the phoenix girl’s unconscious forms. “This is the last of Fenixia House, eh? How wondrous fate is.” She looked at her.
The girl’s clothes were torn apart, as was Iskandaar’s. They looked beaten and bruised, and yet they both still radiated faint auras, the phoenix especially, her wings flickering from leftover phoenix flames. Their hugging in their sleep was adorable, making her smile, but… it also made her worry.
Her thoughts wandered to her granddaughter, Lilian, and how she’d react to Iskandaar’s new relationship entanglements. But that was a problem for later. For now, the two needed rest.
She sighed, shifting them gently onto her broad back, making sure to keep the phoenix girl’s smoldering wings away from Iskandaar’s battered limbs. A soft rumble escaped her throat—half a growl, half a laugh. “Little pup, you do get yourself into trouble.”
With that, she padded off, carrying away from the snowy heights.
****
Solara’s eyelids fluttered open to a blur of white. The wind whipped past her face, cold and crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and snow. Her body swayed gently, cradled by something warm and impossibly soft.
She blinked until the world sharpened. Endless sky above, jagged peaks below, and the rhythmic rise and fall of fur beneath her. Fur…?
She lifted her head, wincing at the stiffness in her neck. Iskandaar lay sprawled beside her, his face pressed into the snowy pelt of the creature carrying them. Blood crusted his nostrils and ears, his brow furrowed even in unconsciousness. Solara’s breath hitched.
Fragments of memory surged—flames, a dragon’s roar, Iskandaar’s scream as he threw himself between her and oblivion. The clash of wills, those domes of light… Had that been real?
She’d awaken briefly between that clash of wills but failed to maintain her consciousness. But she had an idea of what happened. Her fingers brushed his arm as if to confirm he was still whole. He didn’t stir.
“I see you’re awake,” rumbled a voice deeper than thunder, yet softer than snowfall.
Solara jerked upright, her wings flaring on instinct—or trying to. Her feathers felt leaden and singed at the tips. Cranking her neck, she glimpsed the massive wolf on whose back they rode. Moonlight glinted off fur like fresh-fallen snow, and eyes glowed faintly ahead like twin suns.
“Is that you, Lilian…?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. Lilian could only achieve a werewolf form, but this… this was something older.
The wolf laughed, the sound vibrating through Solara’s bones. “Ah, am I that similar to her? That pleases me to know. But no, I am not her. I am her grandmother.”
Grandmother…? The Matriarch. The stories Lilian had muttered in the dark—the First Apocalypse, Devourer of Moons—flashed through Solara’s mind. She swallowed. “Oh.”
The wolf’s ears twitched. “Worry not, we’re going to meet her soon. She’s down there. I sense her.”
Solara followed her gaze. A shrine emerged from the mist below, its wooden gates weathered but intact.
Lanterns flickered like earthbound stars, and figures spilled into the courtyard as the wolf descended. She noticed Princess Ha-Yun there, too. Lilian came out at the front from behind the crowd, her silver tail stiff, ruby eyes wide with worry—until they landed on the wolf. Her gasp carried on the wind. “GRANDMOTHER?!”
The Matriarch touched down soundlessly, snow swirling around her paws. Lilian launched herself forward, burying her face in the wolf’s fur. “You’re here! You’re really— How did you—” Then her eyes fell on her and Iskandaar. “Are they alive?!”
“Barely,” the Matriarch huffed, though her tone warmed. “Your human is sturdier than he looks.”
“What do you mean m-my?! Grandmother!”
Solara watched with a smile, a hollow ache blooming in her chest. Lilian’s joy was so pleasant, her laughter bright as she clung to her grandmother. How good it must feel… to be rescued by your family. The thought slithered in, bitter and unbidden.
She’d forgotten that feeling—the certainty that someone would come, that blood meant safety. For a moment, she felt envious.
A weight shifted against her. Iskandaar groaned, his head lolling onto her shoulder. Solara froze, then slowly relaxed, letting him lean into her. His breathing steadied, the tension in his jaw easing.
Stupid Solara. Didn’t he bleed for you? she reminded herself, tracing the dried blood on his temple. Fought gods for you. He rescued you. The last thing she saw was her last family’s face, pale but peaceful, as her eyes fell shut.
You idiot, she thought while hugging him fondly. You glorious, reckless idiot.
The world faded to the rhythm of steady breaths and distant, joyful chatter.
****
My eyes snapped open to the ache of splintered ribs knitting back together. The scent of cedar and medicinal herbs clung to the air—a mountain shrine, then. I lay on a thin futon, the floorboards beneath me worn smooth by centuries of prayer. My Demonic Sphere flared instinctively, brushing against—
Seven.
Seven distinct auras, each a supernova compressed into mortal flesh. Ninth Ascension entities, clustered just beyond the sliding door. My hand twitched toward a sword that wasn’t there.
Then the Sphere’s feedback sharpened: Vargathrian’s glacial presence, and others—less familiar, but no less lethal. I couldn’t sense Ao’kai and Bai Xiuying. Meaning, the actual number of Ninth Ascension in this area was nine. Even the Ethenia Empire didn’t have that many. Laughter rumbled through the walls, accompanied by the clink of porcelain.
Tea time with demigods. Lovely.
“You’re grinding your teeth again,” a voice murmured to my left.
I turned. Solara lay beside me, propped up on one elbow. Her hair cascaded over bare shoulders, the sheet pooling at her waist. Burn scars still marred her collarbone, healing in real-time, but her eyes—those lovely eyes—glowed with renewed fire.
Her torn clothes were nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was the shrine keepers who had dressed her like a schoolgirl. The navy skirt barely reached mid-thigh, the white tank top hugged her curves, and the loose blue blazer slid off her shoulders as if she hardly cared for it.
Her crimson hair, loosely braided, framed a sharp, smiling face. A pearl necklace adorned her delicate neck, while tassels danced in her hair. The white flower tucked behind her ear accentuated the emotion in her emerald eyes. She looked older than her years when dressed like that.
“How long was I out?” I croaked. My throat felt like I’d swallowed a desert.
She traced a feather-light finger along my jaw. “Long enough for me to win three arguments with you in my head.”
“Firstly, that’s cheating, and secondly… why were you arguing?”
“Not telling you, silly.” Her smile softened. “You look terrible.”
“Says the woman who turned into a roasted pigeon.” She pinched my side, but there was no heat in it. Her gaze dropped to my lips. “Hey, don’t stare like that. I sense people outside, they might hear awkward sounds if you keep staring like that.”
“Lovemaking isn’t awkward,” her voice lowered. “You nearly died because of me. I—”
“Nope. Don’t talk about repaying me or something, Solara,” I caught her wrist, pulling her closer. The sheet slipped further. “Didn’t you charge a Ninth Ascension dragon head-on because he attacked me? I am your Cult Leader, I am the one who’s obliged to keep you safe.”
“Normally, cults operate by prioritizing their God the most. Sacrificing the members if necessary,” she huffed, but her resistance crumbled when I just smiled at her. She smiled back and leaned into me. “I’m sorry, but I’ll do that again if the situation grows like that.”
“How about you don’t? Only I’m allowed to be reckless. You’re supposed to be the sane one,” I said, while she reached out to hold my hair.
Her laugh vibrated against my chest. “Since when?”
“Since…” I paused, drinking in the way dawn light gilded her scars. “Since I decided I rather like you alive.”
Her breath hitched as I stared into her eyes. For a heartbeat, the shrine’s walls seemed to dissolve, leaving only the press of her skin against mine, the shared warmth beneath the thin sheet. Then her lips quirked.
“Did I hear wrong, or did you just say you like me, husband?”
“...Tolerate.”
“Tolerate?”
“Adore. Worship. Crave.” I grinned as her cheeks flushed crimson. “Pick your poison, Fenixia.” She had grown into the teasing type recently, and yet she grew flustered so easily. It was adorable.
She opened her mouth—to retort, to deflect—but the door slid open with a sharp clack.
“I hear you guys are awak-” Lilian froze framed in the doorway, a tray of steaming tea in her hands. Her smile had frozen, and her ruby eyes flicked from Solara’s disheveled hair to my bare chest, then narrowed.
“Would you look at this.”
Solara stiffened. “Uh, I—”
“Save it.” Lilian set the tray down with a thud. Her tail lashed once, then stilled. “I knew you’d fold the second you two were alone. Who jumped at who?”
“Eh, I’d take the blame,” I said, shrugging.
Solara gaped. “Hey, Iskandaar! It was because of me that—!”
“Young bastard.” Lilian folded her arms, ears twitching. “I knew this would happen when you asked me to create private time for you two. Bastard.” She grumbled with a sigh, her scowl melting away. “Well whatever. Not like I’m surprised. We’ll talk about this later. Grandmother’s waiting, she wants to introduce the young master to her friends, so come.” She shot me a look that could’ve frozen lava. “Both of you.”
The door slammed shut.
Solara buried her face in her hands. “Gods, that was—”
“Predictable?” I sat up, wincing as freshly healed muscle protested. “You did suggest sharing. The exact words, I recall, ‘I won’t mind sharing him,’ right? Hmm…”
“I-I was trying to regulate the situation back then! It was a joke!”
“Yeah, yeah,” I stood, offering a hand. “Coming?”
She stared at my palm, then took it, standing. Just as I pulled her up, though, she pushed herself into me. Solara surged up to crush her lips against mine, a searing, desperate kiss that tasted of ash and defiance. When she pulled back, her amused eyes blazed with love.
“That’s for nearly getting killed.”
I felt like she just wanted to kiss as I held her waist. “Noted.”
“And this—” Another kiss, softer, lingering. “—is for coming back.”
I smiled. “Noted thoroughly. I’ll be sure to come back next time, too.” She swatted my chest, but her fingers lingered over the Demonic Core’s pulse for a brief moment.
Together, we stepped out of the shrine.
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The Veiled Man Note: GOOD NEWS! Book just went back to LIVE right now. Like 50 minutes ago. Crazy timing. Thank you everyone for holding on!
Comments
The Hand Behind the Veil
Nevermind, B2 is up for pre order again. Amazon turned them off at first, and nowww they activated it again i don't know
The Hand Behind the Veil
Insider Lore: Vargathrian was supposed to die when I was plotting the Lockdarn arc. Till the very last chapter of the fight, I was sure I'd just kill her off. But then I decided not to and now she's come so far. I'm glad you're enjoying the chapters Detective!
The Hand Behind the Veil
Let's just say when the shrine keepers modified her previously torn clothes, they went overboard since they're not used to that outfit 😔
The Hand Behind the Veil
Our group might be a saviour, who knows? The quest was to Save the world, not destroy it. Amazon won't have images, sooo Solara's flight muscles are fine 😂 wolf granny doesn't use shampoo. Divine magic smell. As for the first part of the comment, Yes! B1 has been polished too. Added some stuff here and there to connect things better, forshadow, and other sfuff. But... We're cancelling the 14th March pre order since we're unsure about the cause of the termination. It's stupid why they didn't clear up the reason other than the basic "violation of terms and service". I mean the book returned, and it's the same book, so how is it not violating the terms right now? 😂 Regardless, we don't want to take any risk, so the publisher is trying to figure out the reason why his account gets targeted every now and then. Because of that, we've also decided to (probably) release Book 2 at the same day with the Book 2's audiobook. Which will take some time, since Book 1 production hasn't started yet (but soon will).
Ron1990
And I have to wait until March 14th (Dang, one day later and it would be published on The Ides of March). Did you polish the second book also? The fluff you added to book 1 helped a lot for the mood. Will our group be known as the Riders of the Fifth Apocalyse? Will Amazon AI faint anew at the prospect of Solaras voluminous uhh... flight muscles? What brand of shampoo uses our Granny formerly known as Fenrir for her fur?
Gabriel Melnik
In what kind of school a miniskirt and a tank top fly as the school's uniform? School issued skirts usually reach the calf not the upper part of the thigh nearing the ass.
Detectivetrap23
We’re back! And it kept all the ratings and reviews!! Congrats man, the rocket gets to keep on soaring. I liked this chapter, I don’t think I realized how strong vargathrian was when we first met her, maybe because she was so weakened. It was cool to see these powerful entities so deferential to her. I like the solara stuff too. Her and iskandaar are cute, and I don’t think Lilian will be too upset about her joining the harem.
