When Julian arrived at the source of the noise, he found a scene of raw, primal brutality.
A massive creature—a Frost-Fang Stalker, an alien feline with six legs and crystalline fur that shimmered like ice—was snarling, its eyes glowing with a cold, predatory hunger. Opposite it stood a burly man who looked like he had been carved from the very mountain itself. His arms were as thick as an ordinary person's thighs, and his presence radiated sheer, unyielding ferocity.
"Good God," Julian whispered. Even without a Hallowed Realm, this man carried the aura of a legendary titan.
"Overgrown kitten, come get some!" the man bellowed, beckoning the alien beast forward.
Roar—!
The stalker pounced, its six legs propelling it forward with terrifying speed. Its jagged, translucent claws, sharp enough to rend reinforced steel, swiped at the man's head. The man didn't flinch. He reached out with lightning speed, grabbed the beast by its thick, furred leg, and with a grunt of divine strength, swung the massive creature over his head.
Bang!
The Frost-Fang Stalker was smashed into a tree trunk, the impact cracking the wood and sending shards of ice-like fur flying.
"What insane strength," Julian marveled. This man had no formal cultivation, yet he was naturally born with power that could rival an Ascendant Realm warrior if he ever learned to harness mana.
"Who's there?" the man barked, his fierce gaze snapping directly toward Julian's hiding spot.
Julian stepped out, sheathing his sword to show he meant no harm. "I heard the roar and came to see if someone needed help. Clearly, you have it handled."
"Are you a Ranger?" the man asked, though he kept one eye on the stalker as it struggled to its feet, blue blood leaking from its mouth.
Julian pointed his sword at the beast. "Why don't you finish that thing off first, and then we talk?"
"Fair enough."
The man strode forward. He didn't use a weapon—just his bare fists. One punch caved in the stalker's ribs. Two punches shattered its skull. Three punches, and the light in the beast's eyes faded completely.
"Not a Ranger, then?" the man asked, wiping the blue ichor from his knuckles.
Julian shook his head. "No. I'm just traveling. Is there a town nearby? Or a name for this place?"
"Towns are rare. There's a manor nearby where my kin stay. As for the land, this is the Sector of Ironside."
"Ironside?" Julian found the name familiar. In the lore of the Stargates, this was a fragment of a lost world—a place where humans and strange alien races had fought for dominance long before the sky shattered.
"If you need a place to rest, follow me," the man said, hauling the heavy alien carcass onto his shoulder. "You look like a scholar, but you carry a sword. I respect that."
"I appreciate the help," Julian smiled.
"Name's Barrett Gear-Heart. You?"
Julian stopped in his tracks. "Wait. Your name is Barrett Gear-Heart? Do you have a brother named Ben?"
"I do. How'd you know that?" Barrett turned, puzzled.
Julian's heart raced. In the fragmented histories he'd studied, Barrett Gear-Heart was a legendary figure, known as the "Core of the Vanguard." To find him here, unawakened, was a goldmine. If Julian could recruit him into his Lotus Sanctum, he would have the ultimate guardian.
As they walked toward the Gear-Heart Manor, they discussed the "star-light" treasures falling from the sky. Barrett confirmed that since the sky began to shatter, strange relics had been landing in the surrounding woods.
"Brother Julian, come to the manor. We'll roast the meat of this stalker—it's tough, but it builds strength—and you can tell me about this 'mana' you keep mentioning," Barrett said.
"I'd be honored," Julian replied. He needed Blessed Stones, and Barrett likely knew the land better than anyone.
That night, Julian and Barrett shared a meal inside the Gear-Heart Manor. Julian explained the basics of the Ascendant Realm and how mana could be used to reinforce one's body beyond natural limits. Barrett listened with an intensity that bordered on hunger.
Early the next morning, a series of panicked shouts echoed from the manor walls.
"Oh no, something happened!" Barrett growled, grabbing a massive iron saber.
Outside the manor, dozens of nightmares appeared. These were Skittering Shadows—an alien race with the upper bodies of pale, multi-armed humanoids and the lower bodies of bloated, chitinous arachnids. Their tails ended in stingers dripping with neurotoxic venom.
"Alien races?" Julian's expression turned grim.
"Brother Julian, you know these demons?"
"Let's just kill them first!" Julian didn't wait. He surged forward, his sword glowing with the golden heat of the Solar Flare Meditation. He blurred past a Skittering Shadow, his blade slicing through its soft underbelly like a hot knife through butter.
"He's not strong—maybe Mortal Rank 1 or 2," Julian noted, feeling the ease of the kill.
In the distance, Barrett saw Julian's movements. A look of surprise and passion flashed in his eyes as he roared, ready to join the slaughter outside Gear-Heart Manor.