Chapter 284: Collossith Arrives
The massive, lidless eye drifted over the crowd with slow, deliberate weight, its glossy surface throwing back fractured sunlight as it passed. Each measured advance pressed down on the onlookers, the air seeming to thicken around their chests.
The tremor of its approach ran through boots, through bone, and then settled somewhere deeper, a steady pulse that echoed inside their hearts. It was not only the scale that unnerved them. The thing radiated an ancient, unyielding force, the kind of steady pressure that made even the bravest adjust their footing and brace without realizing.
The Rank 4 Spark exerted such menace that the Black Dragon and the Silver Whale both shifted in place. Coils of muscle tensed under scaled hide. Fins and flukes are angled to balance weight. It felt as if one single signal could turn the plain into a battlefield.
Atop the giant eye sat a figure, cross-legged and utterly still. His calm had heft to it, the kind that quieted careless words and made the air feel watchful.
"Wow... he really looks like a small giant."
"It’s my first time seeing Soulforge Brakhtar with my own eyes."
Murmurs spread and deepened as recognition moved through the assembly. The name rippled in low voices: the leader of the Gorathim kingdom.
Brakhtar Gorat, called the Soulforge, stood nearly 5 meters tall. Even seated, his bulk filled the space with iron certainty. His attire was minimal.
A ceremonial belt covered only the groin. Thick ropes crossed his shoulders. A line of dry skulls hung along his arms, each one a mute, polished record of conquest and death.
Under the dimmer bands of light, his dark gray skin showed the sheen of tempered metal. Muscles rose and locked in heavy cords. His wrists were thick as stone columns. With each slow breath, his chest lifted and fell like a bellows, suggesting a strength that could crack rock without effort.
Behind him, others sat the same way, cross-legged in precise, disciplined alignment. At least one carried the unmistakable mark of a Rank 4 Practitioner. The rest were Rank 3. Their bearing alone drew the eye even though they yielded the front to their leader.
Nearby waited dozens of Rank 1 and Rank 2 youngsters. Their poise held steady, composed to the point of stillness, as if this were a quiet gathering rather than a place where lives might be weighed and spent in moments.
One figure among the youths held the center. He was taller than the rest and carried himself as if weight settled naturally on his shoulders. The quiet attention of the elders found him and stayed there. Even at a distance, the shape of his future was obvious.
As the giant eye glided closer, it took position slightly beside the Dragon and the Whale. No signal followed. No unnecessary motion. The three mounts and their riders let the hush stand and deepen.
Everyone is here now, right? The same thought now settled everyone’s mind.
With the last titled Practitioner in place, most assumed that every race and kingdom of the Outer Region had finally gathered. It was rare enough that the leaders of the top 3 races stood in the same field. In the focus of that moment, no one noticed that a single race had yet to appear.
Until...
Just as everyone decided it was only a matter of moments before the main tent’s massive doors would open and summon all Practitioners inside, a faint, unexpected tremor rippled through the ground.
At first, they thought the tremor came from the tent—the weight of its great doors—or perhaps from the Wanderer Merchant who owned the grounds. But as the shaking grew with every moment, the mistake became obvious. The Rank 4 Practitioners turned first; soon, even the Rank 1s were staring toward the far peaks, following the source.
"Hey... is that mountain moving, or are my eyes playing tricks on me?" A Rank 1 Practitioner squinted hard, trying to read the shudder under his boots.
"No, it’s not a mountain," a Rank 3 answered beside him. His voice tightened. His eyes locked on a colossal shape that ran like a raging bull, each stride throwing a shock into the plain and sending dust climbing up in rings.
"Hey, hey... isn’t that Collossith? What is that Spark doing here?" Sevrak kept his voice even. He sat high on the Black Dragon and did not blink. He watched the oncoming behemoth as if he could learn its intent from the rhythm of its steps.
No one truly needed to ask its name. Everyone knew it.
Rank 4 Sparks were rarely seen in the Outer Region. Collossith, known to have long fed within Velari Kingdom territory, was not surprising on its own. What shook the field was that this fiercely territorial Spark had abandoned its feeding grounds and was now sprinting at full speed toward a meeting of the strongest Practitioners from several kingdoms.
"Sevrak."
A deep, sharp voice cut through his thoughts. Sevrak turned to see Silverlight Zephan standing atop the Silver Whale. Zephan’s eyes shone like polished moonlight, fixed on Sevrak without wavering.
"King of the Lunari," Sevrak said. A friendly curve touched his mouth, but a narrow edge lived under it. "What might you want from me?"
Zephan’s face did not change. His tone stayed calm. His gaze remained keen. "Something has agitated Collossith. It is charging with intent to strike. Sitting idle would be disrespectful, would it not?"
The implication was clear. The only conceivable reason for Collossith leaving its territory was the presence of so many powerful Sparks in one place—the aura emanating from them had provoked it. They assumed the creature was now charging because it felt threatened.
Zephan’s words were an open offer: a chance for Sevrak to collaborate and halt the charge. Behind them, in the massive tent, a Rank 5 Adept was residing—a presence so revered that no one would dare let a furious Rank 4 Spark run loose.
Sevrak’s faint smile fell away. Serious now, his dark eyes slid to Brakhtar Gorat, who still sat on the Giant Eye, composed and watchful, as if measuring the field in slow counts.
"Let’s stop it first," Brakhtar the Soulforge said. His voice traveled like a drumbeat. He rose with deliberate care, each motion heavy and exact. "We can decide later who will subdue it."
Even though wild Sparks were always stronger than subdued ones, with 3 titled Practitioners acting together, there was no doubt they could bring Collossith down. The only question was who would claim the body. Brakhtar settled that with his first words, then sent the Giant Eye forward to meet the charging Rank 4 head-on.
Sevrak and Zephan added nothing more. Their mounts moved as well. Three titans advanced to meet a fourth.
The Black Dragon spread its vast wings and lifted its head. Razor-white teeth flashed in the sun. A roar tore the air and shook the plain. Blue arcs burst from eyes and jaws. They snapped across the field and broke in hard, crackling detonations that left the air tasting of metal and storm.
The Silver Whale answered in kind. The leviathan rose a breath from the ground, its argent hide brightening until it seemed to drink the sunlight like a mirror. A crushing field rolled off its body. The air hummed low. Loose sand buzzed.
By contrast, Brakhtar’s Spark made no flashy moves. No one mistook the stillness for weakness; the quiet weight it cast warned louder than any roar.
Each Rank 4 Spark assumed its own stance, ready for battle and intent on intimidating its rivals.
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime sight."
All around, practitioners stood rigid as three titans aligned side by side in a brief alliance, while another titan kept thundering toward them. The ground jumped in small quakes, and the oncoming giant gave no sign of slowing.
While breaths were held and hearts beat hard for the legendary clash to begin, one mind caught what the others had missed.
"Hm... this is—" Brakhtar’s deep voice rippled across the field. As a follower of the Aether path, with [Sense] as his core stat, he noticed the oddity first. "There is someone on top of Collossith... no, there are 5 riding it."
"People riding a Rank 4 Spark?" Sevrak frowned. His eyes narrowed at Brakhtar, half set to dismiss the claim until he remembered the man never joke.
Across the entire Outer Region, only 3 figures, excluding the Wanderer Merchant, were known to have a Rank 4 Spark. That made the claim sound almost impossible.
"He is right." Zephan’s silver eyes sharpened. They cut the distance. The tiny shapes on the giant head resolved into figures.
"Who?" Sevrak turned back to the beast, to the dark-brown crown above its 6 pounding legs, searching for the mentioned riders.
[Resilience] gave him immense defense, both physical and mental, but his senses—long-range sight in particular—were not as refined as the others’.
Being proud and self-assured, he had also never invested in investigative Spark skills, and at this range, the moving colossus swallowed the tiny figures from sight. He waited until Collossith closed the gap, and only then did he finally see the figure standing on top.