Till the End of Time: Asura Blood Saga

Yasha’s room was enshrouded in darkness with only a small, flickering flame struggling to ward off the darkness. From an onlookers perspective, it looked like Yasha was gradually swallowed by the spreading darkness. On his bed, Yasha’s heartbeat quickened and his breathing became ragged.

The words on the page suddenly began to shift, as if they would fly out of the book at any moment. They then began to fuse and formed entirely new words. The moment those new characters were formed, Yasha lost focus and his vision blurred. A tearing force then rattled at Yasha’s mind, after which he was greeted by an unfamiliar scene in front of him the moment he opened his eyes.

The sound of clashing swords and the smell of rotten corpses and fresh blood invaded his senses. An eerie crimson moon was plastered on the firmament that shrouded the whole environment in a ghastly light that only underlined the stifling atmosphere.

All sorts of broken weapons were stuck in the ground and littered around. Yasha was greeted by death, decay, madness and uncontrollable hatred wherever his eyes landed. Mountains of corpses, of humans, beasts and creatures Yasha had never seen before, they all surrounded him, stretching as far as his eyes could see.

Yasha stood amidst this battlefield, shuddering, as his mind was overrun by fear. From afar it looked like Yasha was the final, missing piece of an artist’s work, the finishing touch to his lifelong work, perfectly illustrating the various emotions of a battlefield.

The young boy, however, felt like he was standing in hell, living his final moments before he was burned to death by hell fire. He couldn’t even form a single thought, and much less move, when he was interrupted by an earth-shattering noise.

At the exact same moment, a monstrous golden dragon appeared above him. His body stretched across the whole firmament and even blotted out the crimson moon. His scales shone with a holy, dignified light and his mere presence purified the war ridden surroundings, but many of his scales were already ripped off and it was bleeding profusely.

Peace was not to be found though, because shortly after, a black phoenix followed that threw the short moment of peace back into chaos. It was clad in a marvelous dress of black and ashen feathers that burned with a pitch-black fire seemingly able to distort reality itself, creating rifts wherever they went.

However, it also had many of his feathers ripped out and was wounded quite a bit. Nevertheless, these divine creatures clashed in the sky like two comets and chased each other across the battlefield, turning mountains and other matter into dust as a result. No matter where they went, destruction was sure to follow.

It was an unimaginable sight. Those two incomparably powerful beings fought with their life on the line, with a puny little human standing directly in the middle, creating a stark contrast. With a final clash, these two creatures came to a standstill for the time being.

The golden eyes of the dragon were like torches, whereas the eyes of the phoenix resembled an unfathomable abyss. They stared at each other for a moment, taking the short moment to gather up their last dregs of power to decide the final victor.

The dragon then raised its head to the sky and roared. A massive golden beam was fired out of its mouth shortly after, aimed directly at the black phoenix, streaking across the sky with unshakable might. The phoenix was quick to react and breathed out pitch-black flames.

The moment these attacks collided, time seemed to come to a halt. Everything was quiet, but then an apocalyptic explosion began to rip apart everything. Continuing in its path of destruction, it finally reached Yasha, who could only stare at the battle unfolding before his eyes. He tried to flee on numerous occasions, but there was a restrictive power that forced him to stay where he was and to watch the spectacle, so he could only watch helplessly as the explosion swallowed him.

Darkness. Pure and utter darkness. The previous scene of battle and destruction was nowhere to be found, replaced by tranquility instead. In this strange darkness, Yasha tried to process everything that happened, but no matter how he tried, he couldn’t find the answers. More and more questions popped up in his mind, but before he could rag his brain more about it, light was brought to the darkness and the scenery changed completely.

Instead of the mountains of corpses and the seas of blood, Yasha was greeted by the wind that slightly brushed past his face and hair, or to be more accurate, past his feathers, because he quickly realized that he incorporated an eagle that soared through the clouds, where the sky was the only limit.

Past the clouds, gargantuan mountains quietly emerged, completing this picturesque scene. Just like in the previous scene, Yasha could only watch as he had no control over his body or his action, he could only watch and wait what the eagle wanted to show him. The mountains grew bigger as Yasha slowly but surely closed in. There were actually nine mountains peaks that were connected with each other and that stretched far into the horizon. They emanated a sacred and lofty air, demanding utter respect.

The eagle circled one peak after another. All peaks had small, but richly decorated temples that stood at the very apex of each peak. Yasha even saw some monks that prostrated themselves on the ground and worshiped weird statues in the middle of the temples. Each temple had a different statue, but Yasha could not tell the exact differences between them, as he was too far away.

The eagle soon reached the fourth peak, where Yasha could hear a melody that drifted through the air. Yasha listened to this music and could not help but shed a tear. He could feel endless grief and desperation coming from the melody. It carried the pain of two lovers, who were separated forcefully.

Yasha wanted to dive deeper into this melody to get a clearer feeling, but then the music stopped abruptly. In the same moment, the eagle stopped its journey and continuously circled the fourth peak.

Unlike the other three temples, the temple on the fourth peak was dilapidated and there were no worshipers in front of it, that prayed to a statue. The silhouette of man clad in neat black robes emerged from the inside of the temple. His long, snow-white hair fell down his back like a waterfall, but he carried a tired and sad expression.

With his back facing the temple, he stood at the peak and gazed into the far distance. The atmosphere around him transformed alongside his emotions, turning the usual sacred and lofty feeling of the previous peaks into loneliness and sadness. In his left hand he held a bamboo flute, so it was clear that the music form before came from this white-haired man.

The man simply stood at the peak and watched at the heavens, yet his aura changed once again, as his sadness and melancholy was gradually replaced by a steady gaze, until a shocking change occurred. Yasha couldn’t tell when, but at some time, the flute in the man’s hands was replaced by a spear. The spear shaft was light-blue and the spear point was snow white. With the spear in his hands, his whole countenance changed, even though he couldn’t hide the melancholy deep within is eyes. He now resembled a divine spear that was pointed at the heavens to get back what was stolen from him. Firm resolve was plastered across his face—he would rather break than bend, just like his spear.

Yasha could feel his blood boiling whenever he looked at the black robed man and if he could move, he would instantly rush to the man. Yasha looked at him and felt affected by his heaven defying aura. However, suddenly the man vanished without a trace and nothing of his aura remained, as if it all was just a dream.

Just when Yasha thought the eagle would continue on to the next mountain peak, his vision blurred again. But this time, as he opened his eyes, he found himself on his bed, sweating profusely. Confusion and exhaustion were written all over his face, as he tried to process all the events.

Was it a dream? Or were they memories? There was something familiar about those scenes, but no matter how hard he racked his brains about it, he simply did not know why these events felt so familiar to him. There is no way these are memories, I am only 16 years old! So, it couldn’t even be memories of when I was a kid, because I was too young. Not to mention the golden dragon and the black phoenix, these are Divine Beasts, which are long extinct in this world. At least for the last 10.000 years nobody saw even a corpse of such a godly being.

Yasha knew that his thoughts were incredibly unrealistic, but especially the battlefield and the fourth mountain peak with the dilapidated temple felt extremely familiar to him. The more he thought about it, the more he felt like he missed something, or to be more accurate, he felt like there were many parts of him missing. It was a really weird feeling, he was clearly himself, but at the same time he was comparable to a puzzle, where most puzzle pieces were lost. His memories only began after he woke up in the Fallen Snow Mountain Range. An then shortly after, he was adopted into the Hunlua Clan.

There was only one thing that was clear: the scenes he just witnessed weren’t the original content of the book. They were similar, but these fragmented memories or whatever they were, were definitely new. He hadn’t read about them in any of his books. Instead of these detailed stories in his “dreams”, the original book told the stories of the human race’s rise to the top in a past age. Whether it was real history or simply stories, Yasha did not know, nor did he care—he loved to read it nonetheless.

In the end, he simply shook his head and wrote it off as a side effect of mental fatigue, as the last few days put a huge strain on him mentally. The kingdoms tournament, his inability to cultivate, his recollection of the past, his inability to remember anything of his youth and now this fever dream, they all caused his head to ache and instilled a sense of urgency inside him.

Yasha decided it was best to rest a bit. On a normal day, he would try to cultivate again before going to sleep, but he had no energy left. He returned the book to the shelf and fell face down on his bed, immediately falling asleep. Countless thoughts ran through his mind, robbing him of peaceful night.

Outside, the clouds from the afternoon were completely gone, revealing bright stars in the firmament. They illuminated the whole Fallen Snow Mountain Range, which from afar, looked like it was covered by a thin veil of starlight. It was an unnaturally quite and silent night. The usual howls and roars of the wilderness were nowhere to be found, replaced by an eerie tranquility. It was like the calm before the storm.

When the sun rose, Yasha was already up and expanded his Spiritual Sense to feel and guide the spiritual energy around him, but after a short moment, he stopped, as the spiritual energy directly vanished again. Without a change on his face, Yasha continued to meditate for a bit. No matter how many times he had to try it, he would not give up. Some day, it simply had to work.

Still feeling a bit weary after the last nights strange dream, Yasha stretched his body and then packed his things. It was time to head for his training place and further polish his foundations in the sword.

The moment he stepped outside, he was greeted by a cold gust of wind that brushed past his handsome face. During the later parts of the night, it started snowing heavily, gradually turning into a frosty storm.

Yasha's long, loose hair fluttered in the wind, as he suddenly stared at the snow covered wilderness next to him. Today, something was clearly different than usual, aside of the heavy snow storm. After all his time in the Fallen Snow Mountain Range, he developed an intuition towards his surroundings and today felt slightly off.

He took such a feeling very seriously, as he already ignored it once when he was very young and he was nearly torn to pieces by a pack of Scarlet Wolfs, a minor demonic beast race. Since then, he swore to himself that he would be extra careful in the future.

The Fallen Snow Mountain Range overall was a dangerous area. It consisted of countless danger zones that not even cultivators dared to venture into, making it very difficult to traverse. The origin of these danger zones wasn’t entirely clear, but it was said that these were remnants of past wars where even immortals died. How else would these zones be that scary, if it weren’t a remnant of some sort of ancient battlefield?

Thus Yasha was not sure what to do. Should I go or not? He was an expert when it came to navigating through the Fallen Snow Mountain Range, but even he had his limits. Without cultivation, there was no way he could avoid all dangers and when push came to shove, this lack of power could potentially cost him his life.

Sometimes life really pushed you to your limits, Yasha was no exception. A rough life, barely getting by, these were no foreign concepts to the young boy. For a 16 year old boy, he already faced many of humanities dark sides. However, no matter how bad it was, it could still be worse.

At least that was what Yasha told himself many times. He had a home, he had his secret hideout and he had his life—that was enough. So he would not just throw away his life.

Yasha took one last glance at the wilderness. In the end, I am powerless to change anything… no matter how hard I try. Hopefully, the Fallen Snow Mountain Range returns to its usual state tomorrow. I will just try again tomorrow, when things have calmed down.

With that in mind, he trudged through the snow with the intention to return to his house. With each step, the melancholy around him intensified, making him appear as a lonely traveler that was lost on his path home.

“S…w…b…”

Suddenly, Yasha heard a slight whisper that seemed to come from very far away. At first, he thought that it was an illusion or a misconception caused by the whistling wind around him.

Is there someone talking? Or am I imaging things? Yasha immediately turned around, but other than the snow and the snow covered forest, nobody or nothing else was close to him. Strange, I really thought that someone had said something… Confused and unsure whether he was getting crazy lately, Yasha stepped forward once again.

“Wh… y…d…ar…y…STO…!”

With each passing step, the voice got a little louder. This time Yasha was sure! There really was a voice! It seemed like it was a male voice, but he couldn’t be sure yet, as it was still too quite. He immediately stopped and frantically looked around him, but through the thick snow and the howling wind, his eyesight and hearing was limited.

Thinking about a stranger in the unknown, caused a shiver to run down his spine. At the same time, he felt that the voice meant no harm, giving him a bit of respite.

The whisper turned louder yet again, gradually transforming into normal talking, until it appeared to roar. The voice carried a dense ancientness, as if it passed through the ages to reach Yasha.

“Stop right there, you brat!” This time, Yasha clearly heard it. Fear was written on his face, as he still couldn’t identify the origin of the voice. Just who is talking?!

“Little whelp, stop looking around like an idiot. I am not physically around you, I am talking to you mentally, directly in your mind.”

For some reason, after hearing that nobody was around him, Yasha relaxed slightly. However, he was still extremely confused. Speaking directly in my mind? How is he doing that? And how am I supposed to answer him?

“Are you an idiot, or what? Ha, how are you such a blockhead? You are already talking with me through your thoughts, your thoughts! Got it?” The voice stopped for a second, clearly dissatisfied with how the whole situation turned out to be.

Yasha felt like it would erupt at any moment, throwing more curses at him. Though the little boy did not care about this, he had more pressing though weighting on his mind: Who was the voice, why was it talking to him and most importantly, how was it even possible to talk through the mind?

“Damn it! Listen here, brat, stop concerning yourself with such unimportant questions! I have not much time for now. So, I will get straight to the point: Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Directly giving up, because you are feeling slightly uncomfortable? Laughable! No wonder you haven’t awoken yet, even though you stem from-”, the voice abruptly stopped, as if it realized that it nearly talked about something it shouldn’t talk about.

It was unknown whether it was because of itself or because of Yasha, but it grew even angrier and was nearly roaring inside Yasha’s mind, “Ah, this whole goddamn situation is driving me crazy! No more dilly dallying around. You want to become a strong cultivator, soaring through the heavens unfettered? Then wake up! Wake up and rise, you don’t have much time left, if you really want to leap out of this little pond! Today, you have two choices: brave forward towards an unknown future in search of all your answers, painting the heavens—no the whole universe— in blood on your path, or back down and fade into mediocrity, living a short, but maybe fulfilling life as a mortal, free from your self imparted burdens. You choose…”

Towards the end, the voice lost some of its domineeringness and anger, replaced by sadness, until it grew more quite with the second. Towards the end, Yasha couldn’t hear it clearly anymore. It seemed like it had planned to scold Yasha all the way and present him with no choice at all, but there was a feeling of guilt or perhaps memories of the past that stopped it from being entirely decisive, which even surprised itself. In the end, it still offered Yasha a choice, a choice that could decide the fate of many.

The voice came and left without a warning, leaving Yasha questioning his life once again. For what I am living? What do I really wanna do? What does it mean with “I should wake up”? And what does it mean with “I have no time”? I am only 16!

First, utter confusion was plastered on Yasha’s face. After a few seconds, this confusion and doubt quickly turned into decisiveness. No matter who it was, or what his or her’s intention was, in the end it is right. If I want to unravel the past, I must take risks! If I back down today, I may never be able to rid myself of my disability. So, I must continue my training. There is no other way!

It wasn’t a matter of simply delaying his training by one day and performing his training elsewhere. Yasha felt like he would never be able to leave his doubt and self-pity behind, if he shied away from the potential danger today. It was an essential decision to his own mental well being.

With his newfound determination, Yasha marched forward and made his way all the way through the clan. When he passed the main gate, he took one last glance at the Hunlua Clan, after which he disappeared into the ongoing snow storm. His small silhouette gripped his iron sword tightly, as he gradually vanished into the oppressive darkness of the Fallen Snow Mountain Range.