Chapter 219 Flying Mounts

The silence that followed the obliteration of the Thunder Tyrant Behemoth was profound, broken only by the whistling wind whipping through the newly formed crater. Dust and superheated rock fragments rained down around Alaric as he stood calmly in the center, the pulsating blue Seventh Order magic core held firmly in his hand.

His companions stared, mouths agape, eyes wide with disbelief and sheer, unadulterated awe. The raw power they had just witnessed was beyond anything they could have imagined.

Captain Valerius was the first to find his voice, his usual stern composure completely gone, replaced by wide-eyed excitement. “Young Master! That… that was… incredible!” He stammered, gesturing towards the empty crater. “A Seventh Order beast! Obliterated! Just like that!”

One of the Master Martialists beside him added breathlessly, “I’ve never seen magic like that! Not even from the Archmages visiting the capital!”

“To kill a Seventh Order beast…” another guard murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s the equivalent of an Archmage! Or a Martial King! And you, Young Master… you are ‘only’ a Grandmaster Mage!”

Rosalind walked forward, her usual sharp focus softened by amazement. She looked from the core in Alaric’s hand to the devastating crater, then back to him. “Alaric… truly. That spell… its power was easily on par with a peak Archmage’s forbidden technique.”

She shook her head, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “You never cease to amaze. It seems no one else in the Grandmaster rank across the entire continent could possibly be your match.”

‘They’re right,’ Alaric thought, though he kept his expression neutral. ‘That final spell, amplified by the Azure Spirit Lion’s essence, did indeed reach the destructive threshold of the Archmage rank.’ It was one of his trump cards, rarely needed, but devastatingly effective.

He offered a modest wave, pocketing the glowing Seventh Order core carefully into a specially prepared containment box. “You flatter me. It was merely a specific spell combination, significantly boosted by the Azure Spirit Lion’s essence I possess.”

He deliberately downplayed it. “Without that specific amplification, damaging a beast of that level, let alone killing it instantly, would be significantly more difficult, perhaps impossible for me alone at my current rank.” Let them believe it was a limited trump card, not his standard capability. Managing perceptions was crucial.

Rosalind, however, wasn’t entirely focused on the power display. A flicker of practical disappointment crossed her features. “It’s just a pity, Alaric,” she complained lightly, gesturing at the smoking crater. “Your attack was too thorough. There’s nothing left!”

She sighed dramatically. “Think of the materials! A Seventh Order Behemoth corpse! The hide could have made impenetrable armor, the horns could channel lightning magic for powerful artifacts, the bones ground into potent alchemical reagents… We could have outfitted half the mansion’s elite guard! Now it’s all just… dust.”

Alaric shrugged, unmoved by the loss of materials. “Against a Seventh Order beast preparing what looked like a final, desperate attack? Holding back wasn’t an option, Rosalind.”

He met her gaze firmly. “If I had used a weaker spell, hoping to preserve the corpse, and it had managed to erect that lightning barrier or unleash whatever final cataclysm it was charging… the situation could have turned disastrous. Its defenses were formidable.”

He gestured towards the devastation. “I needed certainty. One overwhelming strike guaranteed to pierce any defense and neutralize the threat instantly. Preservation was a luxury we couldn’t afford at that moment.”

Rosalind conceded the point with a nod, though she still looked slightly wistful about the lost resources. “You’re right, of course. Safety first. Still… such a waste.”

Ceanna approached Alaric, her eyes shining with an almost religious fervor. “Alaric, the power you wield… it’s truly divine.” Since pledging herself as his Saintess, her perception of him had subtly shifted, awe mixing readily with her burgeoning devotion. The sheer destructive force, wielded to protect them, felt righteous to her in that moment.

“It is merely power, Ceanna,” Alaric replied calmly. “How it is used determines its nature.”

While this conversation unfolded, Brita Kuusk remained silent a short distance away, her usual enigmatic expression replaced by one of deep contemplation, tinged with undeniable shock.

‘He downplays it,’ she thought, analyzing Alaric’s words, comparing them to the reality she had just witnessed. ‘A specific spell? Beast essence? Perhaps. But the scale of it… the raw destructive force reached well into the Archmage domain.’

She replayed the final spell in her mind. ‘It didn’t just kill the Behemoth; it annihilated it. A beast known for its near-impenetrable hide, obliterated instantly.’

Her mind raced, calculating the implications. ‘If that spell can destroy a Seventh Order beast like that, it could undoubtedly kill most Archmages or Martial Kings. Perhaps only those at the absolute peak of that rank, with unique defensive treasures or techniques, could hope to survive a direct hit.’

A shiver traced its way down her spine, unrelated to the mountain chill. ‘And he’s only a Grandmaster. What happens when he reaches the Archmage rank? Which, at his absurd progression speed, could be frighteningly soon.’

The gap between Grandmaster and Archmage was vast, but Alaric seemed to leap across ranks like they were mere stepping stones.

‘When he becomes an Archmage…’ Brita mused, ‘will any Archmage be his opponent? The power difference between early and peak Archmages is immense, true. Absolute invincibility is unlikely. But he’ll surely be among the strongest contenders from the moment he breaks through. Capable of suppressing the vast majority, challenging even the established peak figures.’

She thought of her master, Lord Vortan. He was undeniably powerful, a figure shrouded in mystery and fear within the Phantom Assembly. But was he this talented at such a young age? She doubted it. Alaric was an anomaly. A terrifyingly powerful anomaly.

‘Lord Vortan needs to be kept fully aware of Alaric’s progress,’ she resolved. ‘His potential impact on the world’s power balance… and on the Assembly’s own plans… is too significant to ignore.’ Keeping Alaric as an ally, or at least neutral, was paramount. The thought of him as an enemy was… chilling.

Alaric seemed to sense her intense scrutiny and glanced her way again, offering a brief, unreadable smile before turning back to the group.

“Alright,” he announced, clapping his hands together, breaking the lingering atmosphere of awe. “We have the prize. We’ve gathered a significant number of Sixth Order cores. It’s time we returned to the mansion.”

He paused, looking around at the rugged peaks. “It has been,” he checked a timepiece artifact, “nearly two weeks since we departed. Who knows how far the demonic forces might have advanced towards our territory in that time.”

A ripple of urgency passed through the group.

“However,” Alaric added, holding up a hand before anyone could suggest a rushed departure, “traveling back on foot or horseback, even with magic assistance, will still take several days. We can do better.”

His eyes gleamed with a new idea. “This region is known for powerful avian beasts. Before we head directly home, we’re going to acquire some suitable transportation.”

Captain Valerius looked puzzled. “Transportation, Young Master? Like carriages?”

Alaric smirked. “Something faster, Captain. Something… with wings. It’s past time the Steele Family had a contingent of high-level flying mounts.”

A murmur of excitement went through the guards and even the mercenaries. Flying mounts, especially high-order ones, were rare, prestigious, and incredibly useful.

“We’ll target beasts strong enough for our needs but controllable,” Alaric continued. “A few Fifth Order, perhaps some Sixth Order if we find suitable ones. We subdue them, imprint them, and ride back in style… and speed.”

“Subdue them, Young Master?” Valerius asked cautiously. “High-order beasts, especially flying ones, are notoriously proud and difficult to tame.”

Alaric’s smirk widened. “Difficult? Perhaps. Impossible? Not for me.” His eyes held a predatory glint. “They will submit. Or they will understand true suffering before they submit.”

Alaric’s ‘taming’ process was less about gentle persuasion and more about overwhelming, terrifying dominance.

Their first target, scouted by Brita’s stealthy reconnaissance and the hired trackers, was a massive bird nesting on a high cliff face – a Fifth Order beast designated the Titan Sky Hauler. It was perfect for carrying Valerius’s contingent.

The beast, resembling a colossal eagle with bronze feathers and a wingspan easily rivaling a small house, shrieked territorially as the group approached its aerie.

“Valerius, keep your men back,” Alaric commanded. “This one’s mine.”

He flew up alone, wind magic carrying him effortlessly. The Titan Sky Hauler lunged, beak snapping, talons extended.

Alaric didn’t even draw a weapon. “Insolent fowl. Kneel!” He unleashed a barrage of non-lethal force spells – concussive blasts of air, heavy water impacts, entangling wind ropes.

The bird, powerful by Fifth Order standards, was utterly overwhelmed. It was slammed against the cliff face, buffeted by invisible forces, its movements restricted, its attacks useless. It shrieked in fury and confusion.

Alaric didn’t let up. He systematically battered the creature, careful not to inflict lethal wounds but ensuring maximum discomfort and disorientation. He used targeted lightning jolts to cause muscle spasms, flashes of light to blind it, gusts of wind to send it tumbling helplessly mid-air before catching it again.

“Submit!” Alaric’s voice echoed, amplified by magic, laced with his Emperor’s Presence.

The Titan Sky Hauler, proud and strong moments before, was terrified. It had never encountered such power, such relentless pressure. After ten minutes of what felt like an eternity of being tossed around like a feathered toy, its spirit broke. It ceased struggling, landing heavily on the ledge, head bowed, emitting whimpering cries.

Alaric landed before it, placing a hand on its massive head. He channeled his spiritual energy, forcing a connection, branding his imprint onto its soul. The bird shuddered but accepted the bond, recognizing its new master.

“Valerius,” Alaric called down. “Your ride awaits.”

The captain and his men stared up in amazement. “Young Master… you subdued it that quickly?” Valerius asked, still processing.

“It learned reason,” Alaric replied blandly. “Get your men aboard. We’ll call him… Atlas. Seems fitting.”

Valerius eagerly led his men, scrambling up the cliff path to the massive, now docile bird.

Next, based on tracker reports and Brita’s confirmation, they sought out a creature suited for her – a denizen of shadowy canyons, a Fifth Order beast known as the Umbral Night Prowler. It resembled a large, winged panther made of solidified shadow, capable of melting into darkness and striking silently.

Finding it was tricky, but Brita’s skills in tracking shadow energy led them to its lair deep within a lightless ravine.

As the beast emerged from the gloom, Alaric acted instantly. “Sanctuary!” He created a sphere of pure light, trapping the shadow beast within, causing it visible discomfort as its shadow-form sizzled.

The Umbral Night Prowler hissed, trying to phase through the light, but the holy-infused energy held it fast. It lashed out with claws of darkness.

Alaric countered with beams of light and fire, deliberately targeting its form, causing pain but avoiding vital spots. He combined this with physical intimidation, using wind magic to slam the creature against the light barrier repeatedly.

“Darkness yields to true power,” Alaric stated calmly, increasing the intensity of the light.

The shadow beast shrieked, its form flickering. Like the bird before it, faced with overwhelming power it couldn’t fight or escape, its resistance crumbled. It collapsed, solidifying slightly, whimpering.

Alaric approached, dissipating the light sphere. He looked at Brita. “This one seems suited to your… affinities, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, a subtle emphasis in his tone.

Brita met his gaze, understanding the unspoken message. A beast of shadow, perfect for an agent of the Phantom Assembly. Was it a gift? A warning? A test?

“It is… suitable,” she conceded, her voice carefully neutral.

Alaric imprinted the creature, the bond forming easily now that its will was broken. “Your companion, then. Perhaps… Nyx?”

Brita nodded silently, accepting the subdued shadow beast.

Their third target was for Ceanna. Scouts reported a majestic Sixth Order avian – a Golden Sun Peryton. A creature often associated with light and holiness, resembling a winged stag with feathers of pure gold that shimmered with innate holy energy.

They found it soaring near a sun-drenched peak. It radiated a gentle warmth, a stark contrast to the previous beasts.

“Ceanna, perhaps you wish to try communicating first?” Alaric suggested politely.

Ceanna nodded, stepping forward. She projected feelings of peace, respect, attempting to connect with the creature’s holy affinity.

The Peryton circled curiously, tilting its head. It seemed receptive, emitting soft, melodic calls.

For a moment, it seemed a peaceful approach might work. Then, Alaric subtly flared his own overwhelming aura, laced with the Emperor’s Presence.

The Peryton instantly sensed the immense power, the underlying dominance. Its gentle demeanor vanished, replaced by fear and hostility. It shrieked, golden light flaring defensively around it, and prepared to flee or fight.

“Pity,” Alaric sighed theatrically. “It seems it only understands one language.”

Before Ceanna could protest, Alaric acted. He didn’t use darkness or overt aggression. Instead, he used overwhelming elemental force – binding flame spikes erupting from the peak, buffeting gales of wind halting its flight, freezing ice shards encasing its wings, blasts of pure water knocking it off balance. He meticulously controlled the power, ensuring no lasting harm but demonstrating absolute superiority.

The Peryton, despite its holy nature and Sixth Order strength, was helpless against the coordinated elemental assault. It struggled valiantly, unleashing beams of light, but Alaric countered each one effortlessly.

“Submit!” Alaric commanded, his voice resonating with power. “Serve my Saintess, and you shall know purpose!”

Caught in inescapable bonds of wind and flames, battered by water and ice, the magnificent creature finally lowered its head, its golden light dimming in surrender.

Alaric imprinted it, then guided the trembling but obedient Peryton towards Ceanna. “He is yours, my Saintess. A fitting mount for one who walks in the light.”

Ceanna gently touched the Peryton’s golden feathers, feeling a nascent connection through Alaric’s imprint. She felt a pang of sorrow for the forced submission but also a thrill at the creature’s beauty and power. “Thank you, Alaric. I shall call him… Solara.”

Fourth was Rosalind’s turn. They located a Crimson Wind Griffin, a fierce Sixth Order predator known for its speed and mastery over air currents, nesting high in the wind-swept canyons.

The Griffin attacked aggressively the moment they entered its territory, diving with razor talons extended, unleashing shrieking gusts of wind.

“Impressive speed,” Rosalind commented, shielding herself with a quick arcane barrier.

“Want to soften it up first, Rosalind?” Alaric offered with a grin.

“My pleasure!” Rosalind accepted eagerly. She launched a volley of spells – Wind Shear projectiles, Air Lances, minor lightning jolts – engaging the Griffin in an aerial duel. She was clearly outmatched in raw power, but her skill and precision allowed her to hold her own for a few minutes, dodging the Griffin’s attacks while landing annoying hits.

Finally, Alaric intervened. “My turn.” With contemptuous ease, he negated the Griffin’s wind barrier, plucked it from the sky with concentrated gravity magic, and slammed it onto a rocky ledge below.

He subjected it to the now-familiar routine: overwhelming force, non-lethal punishment, relentless pressure, until the proud creature’s will snapped. Imprint established.

“A fiery spirit for a fiery woman,” Alaric chuckled, presenting the subdued Griffin to Rosalind.

Rosalind beamed, running a hand over the Griffin’s crimson feathers. “He’s magnificent! I’ll call him Ignis.”

Finally, it was Alaric’s own mount. Based on ancient legends and recent, fragmented reports, they tracked their quarry to the highest, most storm-wracked peaks in the region. An Azure Sky Emperor Roc. A peak Sixth Order beast, rumored to possess a trace of ancient, divine avian bloodline, granting it unparalleled speed and control over sky phenomena.

Finding it took two days. It was a creature of breathtaking majesty – feathers the color of the deepest sky, tinged with lightning-blue edges, eyes like sapphires, and a wingspan that dwarfed even the Titan Sky Hauler. It moved like a streak of azure lightning, faster than anything Alaric had encountered before.

This subjugation proved genuinely challenging.

“Incredibly fast!” Alaric muttered as the Roc effortlessly evaded his initial binding spells, its movements blurring, leaving afterimages.

He pursued it through the stormy peaks, an aerial chase of epic proportions. The Roc controlled the winds, summoning localized squalls and lightning strikes to hinder him.

‘Standard elemental attacks are too slow,’ Alaric realized. ‘And area-of-effect spells risk killing it if I misjudge its position.’

He needed precision, speed, and carefully modulated power. He switched tactics, using predictive wind currents to box it in, spatial locking spells with minimal duration to momentarily halt it, flashes of light to disorient, and targeted, non-lethal kinetic impacts.

The chase lasted for hours. Alaric had to draw upon his immense reserves, his reflexes honed to a razor’s edge. The Roc was intelligent, powerful, and infuriatingly agile. Several times, it nearly escaped his grasp.

“You WILL submit!” Alaric roared, frustration mounting. He finally managed to trap it in a complex vortex of intersecting wind walls and gravity fields, pinning it momentarily against a sheer ice cliff.

He didn’t waste the chance. He unleashed a rapid-fire sequence – concussive force, paralyzing lightning, chilling ice – battering its senses, overwhelming its defenses without delivering a fatal blow. It shrieked, thrashing, unleashing blasts of azure energy, but it was trapped, battered, and finally, its ancient pride began to yield to the sheer, relentless power of its pursuer.

It took nearly half an hour of continuous, controlled assault within the magical prison before the magnificent creature finally ceased struggling, its sapphire eyes conveying not defeat, but a grudging respect and terrified submission.

Breathing slightly heavier than usual, Alaric approached cautiously, reinforcing the bindings. This one felt different. Older, wiser, prouder. He placed his hand on its head, pushing his spiritual imprint forcefully into its resisting consciousness. The Roc shuddered violently, a mental roar of defiance echoing in Alaric’s mind before it finally subsided, accepting the bond.

Alaric felt the connection snap into place. Relief washed over him, mixed with triumph. This was a truly exceptional beast.

He released the bindings. The Azure Sky Emperor Roc shook its massive head, then bowed it slightly towards Alaric. Master acknowledged.

“Well fought,” Alaric said softly, stroking its neck. “You shall be Kai.”

He mounted Kai, feeling the immense power thrumming beneath him. The others watched in awe as Alaric and his magnificent azure steed hovered effortlessly against the stormy backdrop.

With their new flying mounts secured – Atlas carrying Valerius and his men, Nyx blending into the shadows beneath Brita, Solara radiating gentle light under Ceanna, Ignis perched proudly with Rosalind, and Kai reigning supreme with Alaric – the group was finally ready.

“To the mansion!” Alaric commanded, turning Kai towards home.

The newly formed aerial squadron soared into the sky, leaving the Mount Cinderfell behind, heading back towards the Steele Estate at speeds previously unimaginable. Their hunt was over, their spoils secured, and their power significantly enhanced.