Tyrants of Earth - The Legend of Artigan

There was a biblical quote Ryan remembered vaguely. Something about needing to shove a camel through the eye of a needle.

Some might think of it as an impossible task. Something you told people so that they might change their ways for the better.

Ryan didn’t think like that. Come on, be more creative! Grind up the camel and mince the pieces into miniscule mush, then strain it through. It was a lot of effort, sure but… Actually, he lost that train of thought.

He was busy mincing the camel.

The tangible aura of red spanned over a hundred feet. It looked impressive and terrifying but it was also not something he could control at all. Ryan tried to pull it in, cut it up with his sword and squish it. He tried everything and anything, visual, aura sense. He even tried to lick it at one point.

The confused looks on Zedart and Valee’s faces was almost worth it.

Slash, step back, stop, throw, slice down. Ryan was still fighting Zedart but he wasn’t really trying to win. They were taking turns, optimizing their movements, speeding up their tempo. Before Ryan knew it, he was in a flow state.

Just following the moves the [Swordsman] was giving him.

He skipped a step over where he expected Valee’s terrain Epic to be. Ryan was slightly jealous over the fact that she could finesse her Epic like she did. It must have been because hers was inferior to his.

His aura at its peak felt like a mountain… no, the Witch’s aura was like a mountain. A cold angry mountain you couldn’t see the top of.

His was more like a hill in comparison. Ryan followed that train of thought. His aura was densest in the interior and softest in the exterior, just like a hill.

The aura of red blazed and flickered like fire at the edges. Maybe instead of forcing his aura to change, he could manage the exterior instead.

Ryan imagined the dirt compacting on one of the Emerald Hills. He stopped swinging at Zedart and closed his eyes.

Compact, condense. The flickering edges quietened and became just the slightest bit smaller.

He pushed further.

There was that time with the bullipede when he had forced a skill to activate. An aura should be easier, Ryan demanded it. Demand that there be some more control at the edges.

[Aura Control]

The radius of the aura compressed… by about 10%. He tried to push further.

15% and he could make no progress. At this point he could taste his aura again, it was mostly blood and ash. It disliked being controlled, being pulled back and condensed was anathema to one of its primary fuels.

[Unrelenting Aura of Intimidation] and the third Trial made his aura into something of just pure war and unassailable victory. Unrelenting in its steps.

He remembered the press of bodies in his last Trial. How the perimeter of soldiers closed in tighter. Sometimes victory was in condensing the powers that be, it would make the fighting just that much more intense.

His aura seemed to like that idea. It rushed forward.

25%

Now he felt the pressure in his veins and muscles, it was like when he had cracked the portal building, except this time the force was continually pushing into his body. An alert flashed in his mind, it appeared without prompting.