Mutated mountain, a place home to many indigenous, unique species. Also a haven for powerful monsters with a preference for icy environments. Regarding the latter, one polar bear, notorious for its brutality and ferocity when faced with any other living creature, was going about its day and minding its own business. Bears were universally known for being kings of the animal kingdom and frequently capable of going toe to toe with even expert cultivators. They were quick to cultivate to key breakpoints for animals that included learning human speech as well as form transformation arts. It was unknown why bears specifically were leagues ahead of their animal companions and cohorts but, generally speaking, bears were scary! There was even a bear over in Akarala that was rumoured to be one of the top ten strongest people in all of Sheryashka! Bears came in all shapes and sizes but the one living in Isaz, in particular, was a polar bear who emanated a frigid aura at all times. Weaker monsters, cultivators, and animals would freeze to death just being near this grizzled veteran's vicinity and its fur was sharp enough to scratch anyone who tried to attack him without a weapon or magic. His footfall could cause avalanches if he wasn't careful and a single glare was enough to send just about anyone else in Isaz packing, fleeing for the hills. Even the Throne elders and Nu King leaders would opt to avoid this bear when possible.
This polar bear was one of the mutated mountain staples but chose to live somewhere near the middle of it rather than at the peak. Sure the peak had better mana quality in the air but the polar bear was already at peak transition realm and had no intention of journeying to Vraizon to cultivate beyond its current point. As such, mana quality and quantity didn't really matter much and the bear could pick and choose its home relatively freely based on its preference for aesthetic and the views of ground level that kept it entertained as people below flocked about. If the bear went too close to the base it might earn the ire of the rest of the region as it was a threat to their safety, and living any higher would pit it against the Throne and Nu Kings constantly, so it chose somewhere peaceful where it wouldn't be bothered and people would have to go out of their way to confront him. It had no real intention of becoming the absolute king of the mountain or anything and wanted nothing more than to enjoy the fruits of its cultivation labour. It had earned itself a long life and nothing in this domain could really threaten it, especially not in the Isaz region! To that end, though it didn't really pick fights, per se, it was quite territorial and would shoo off anyone or anything dumb enough to wander over. It also made examples of some such fools who should know better and thus it wasn't uncommon to see monster guts strewn around outside the perimeter of its lair. The polar bear had an incredible affinity for the ice aspect and, whenever there was any form of snowfall about, which was basically always, it could locate and track moving targets through the natural weather as it became a defense system that detected unwelcome guests. Teh polar bear had phenomenal senses and could pinpoint anything entering its territory without its permission in a heartbeat. It would then go out and confront the invasive pest and deal with them accordingly. If it were a new arrival to this mountain, or the baby of something that didn't quite yet understand the lay of the land, it would let them off with a single warning, one they would never hear twice, and if it was a resident or local he recognised it was throat biting and blood spraying time to send a message.
It was a day like any other... At least a day like any other other than yesterday. The polar bear had no idea why his mountain home suddenly started floating, and the giant fist was something the polar bear treated as an unreal nightmare / hallucination, but that event had seemingly come and gone with no further deliberation over how to handle it being necessary. The polar bear was prepared to flee this home if that giant fist returned, and aimed his way for whatever reason, but things had quietened down and its peaceful life resumed when the mountains rejoined and some time passed without anything dramatic occurring. Assured everything was back to how it should be, the polar bear was enjoying life in its home when, all of a sudden, something barreled into its territory at blinding speeds! In all its life it had never seen or felt anything moving this fast and, if he didn't poke his head out of his cave in the next second or two, it would race past his area of influence and pass through unimpeded!
This was unacceptable.
There were rules on this mountain and the polar bear's home was off limits no matter who you were! Even if this was a strong resident of the upper mountains, who was maybe blasted off its home yesterday by the wayward fist and had to return, the polar bear was still the unofficial lord and respect was mandatory and owed! Not entering his territory was a rule everyone had to follow, or at the very least entering it with caution and the apologetic bowing of heads, and if someone was breaking that ironclad rule then they had to be punished just like everyone else. Them's the breaks. The polar bear was basically the strongest thing on this mountain, as far as it knew anyway, so it didn't matter who this intruder was; they would be taken care of just like all the others with no impartiality or mercy to spare! The polar bear leapt from its cave with a rabid snarl and slid down the mountain to position itself in front of the rapidly arriving hoodlum with claws and teeth at the ready.
CRASH
Trees were felled and rocky outcrops covered in layers of snow were shattered as a giant black behemoth beast slid across the ice as though it were drifting manically through a twisting race track. Obstacles be damned, this colossus of unbound muscle forged a path all its own, making the mountain its own little personal path to ascendency while ignoring the cries of surrounding critters whose homes were torn asunder. The polar bear, mouth agape, turned around and ran on all fours until it reached its home and his behind a large icicle, trembling and whining in the corner like a scared cub. It had seen the face of true evil! The giant wolf with dragon horns was terrifying! That creepy maniacal grin, the huff of a chuckle as it treated climbing this mountain like a sport, the effortlessness of travel as it bound its way up the mountain unfettered by gravity or stamina... The bear was mortified to the point its internal mana flow was all messed up, forcing it suffer a backlash out of pure fear. The bear's internal organs bled a little and its cultivation shrunk from the peak of transition all the way back down to the very start. There was no fight, no confrontation, and yet the bear had lost so soundly it was left a timid wreck in the depths of its own home. It was sent fleeing just like every other inhabitant of this mountain and it had never been clearer that the phrase 'there's always a bigger fish' was profoundly true. The bear's hubris and arrogance had been whittled down to an overinflated ego and even the progress it made towards understanding human speech had regressed. It covered its eyes with its paws and whined like a dumb animal, grateful that devastating being, carnage incarnate, seemed to hold no grudge with it and was merely passing through. Perhaps the polar bear could regain its lost cultivation and prestige one day but it would only ever be able to do so long after the mental trauma of a forty foot tall God of nature breathing golden fire disappeared. Or, well, such a sight was burned into its memory so at least until the severity of the image blurred somewhat would it be burdened by its own thoughts.
Elsewhere, unaware that he'd just imparted incredible stress and anxiety onto the strongest being on the mountain just by passing through, Ares was having a blast. It's not like he was actively trying to spook the mountain's inhabitants or anything, he was just joyously leaping from ledge to ledge and darting up the mountains with unrestrained fervor and excitement. Each leap from one mountain to the next was exhilarating as the fresh wind buffeted his hair and the resistance of gravity tickled his muscles. After landing he would then take a quick detour and dash his way up the next mountain until his vision could breach the snowstorms and spy the next mountaintop at which he would lunge to from up to three or four miles away. Even then the distance was pretty manageable because Garmr's legs were more like sturdy foundations of ancient civilisations that had stood the test of time, millions of times over. They were springy too so they were like an infinitely durable combination between a flexible slinky and the ever upright pillars of Atlantis that held strong even in the face of the overwhelming pressure of the deep sea. It was clear to Ares just how impactful his monstrous fine grind had been and the consumption of it had basically shoved a bundle of rockets up Garmr's rear. Debatably unnecessary at the current moment in time but there wasn't really such a thing as 'overkill' in the grand scheme of the overarching cultivation world. How strong Ares was relative to the people of Sheryashka was a different matter entirely to how strong he would be compared to the people of Vraizon so every ounce of strength was worth it and made an impactful difference even if it wasn't immediately apparent how.
Ares took countless deep breaths as he rose to the peak of the mutated mountain at blistering speeds, unmatched by anyone who had ever climbed this landmark previously. Each and every moment in the body of Garmr was a revelation that this was his true form, who Ares was always meant to be. What felt odd not even a few hours ago now was entirely natural and Ares was starting to feel regretful that he would have to return to his human form at all due to how alien it seemed to him form the perspective of Garmr. Of course it was still important for a variety of reasons to be a human every now and then, and walking around as Garmr would cause a multitude of issues as his shoulders would inevitably knock over buildings, but there was a pang of regret that couldn't be scrubbed away. Regret that he hadn't been able to live like this from the start, regret that he couldn't stay like this forever, and regret that Garmr could not access the destruction pillar. Ares would be willing to forsake his shell of humanity if it meant Garmr could have destruction magic permanently but it just wasn't possible. Sure there were resources and treasures for just about anything in the cultivation world but Ares wasn't hopeful on the account that an adept-overwriting treasure had never been found before. This meant that if such a thing did exist it was probably a one-off hiding in the most hidden depths of the universe that nobody had ever even thought to explore before. No records of this type of effect, be it through a resource or treasure, over multiple eons was a worrying sign it probably just hadn't ever cropped up before and likely wouldn't ever either. It wasn't impossible but Ares wasn't going to hold his breath or waste time searching high and low.
It was pretty much unchangeable that Garmr couldn't and wouldn't ever be able to use destruction magic as anything other than fuel to boost its might. Arguably Garmr didn't even need it but how strong would such a hypothetical Garmr even be? At that point nothing else would even matter, he would become something that transcended any and all logic and even the Gods would be forced to bow before him. Even the other fundamental champions would just have to shrug their shoulders and give up. Mako himself, the person unable to accept second place, would be forced to admit some things just weren't possible. Still, even though such a future wasn't possible it's not like Ares was far from it. He could freely swap forms at a moment's notice whenever he felt like it, there were no restriction really. It didn't cost mana for a butterfly to flutter its wings, for a human to breathe, or for a revenant to transform into its wolven form. Ares was set for life... This life, anyway. If he died and was reborn as a little baby cub he would have to cultivate all the way back to bloodline awakening before he could access Garmr again. Annoying but understandable. Revenants were impressive but it's not like there wasn't any downside to being one... Excluding Dominus who was different perhaps due to his own unique bloodline.
Other races had innate advantages from birth but revenants had to earn their stripes, fight for their regeneration and true bodies, so it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. Revenants, in their infancy, were supposed to be weak, that was the catch. Of course it could be worse, bloodline awakening was a trivial height to reach when compared to the higher realms of cultivation, but it was still a gap that needed to be crossed before a revenant could awaken properly and it was one of the determining factors that prevented them from being definitively ranked first as a race above Gods and dragons. Comparing a baby dragon to a baby revenant was a cruel joke. A baby dragon could flatten cities by itself a few days after birth, a baby revenant goo goo gaga-ed at the nearest adult and prayed to be taken care of for years until they could walk properly. Granted revenants had infinite chances at this, and a baby dragon that pissed of a strong enough community could be felled and killed with no second chances, but it was clear which race was stronger in the initial stages. Hell even at bloodline awakening most dragons still held an edge because its not like draconic bloodlines were something trivial either. It was only around the mid to late realms of cultivation wherein the expert revenants could start to bridge the gap and, even them, it was only the truly exceptional that were capable of it. It was definitely easier to be born as a dragon, or to apotheosise / become a God, as the strength gain was immediate... Unless your name was Ares, in which case you would just be all three and benefit from all the innate advantages of each. Ares was an immortal revenant, he'd already been reborn once, his draconic strength as Garmr was at an absurd level from the get go, and he wasn't a God yet, nor had he undergone apotheosis, but the strength gain when he did would also be extremely noticeable. Lifespan? Check. Power? Check. Magic? When he became a God, even if only temporary via apotheosis, and his affiliation for destruction was at its utmost? Check.
While Ares considered such matters inside his head, his body had already charged its way up and through the mutated mountain spiral at a shocking rate. Five minutes was his first estimate but his training at the base had paid off brilliantly and he made it up to the top in four minutes flat. Before he even knew it he'd long since passed the parasite shark lake, overtaken his previous position prior to reaching bloodline awakening and getting reset, and made his way up to the final mountain by tirelessly clambering like a man possessed. He hadn't technically reached the peak just yet, this mountain was the largest of them all and would take multiple jumps to get there, but Ares considered this as having reached his goal and so stopped concentrating on irrelevant conundrums inside his head to focus on external issues. The path to the peak was 'simple', he could easily walk straight there and nothing would be able to stop him, but there were two clans on either side of the mountainous path that had set up encampments and prepared for war right where Ares wanted to traverse.
These two clans couldn't be ignored. The Nu Kings had connections to the Torchbearer, so Ares had to kill them for self-explanatory reasons, and the Throne were basically asking, if not outright begging, for destruction given the way they'd bothered Ares so consistently since he arrived here. Even if Ares ignored the Throne more than he already had they would never give up on pestering him and might even send people to go and annoy hm back in Red Sun, they were just that unrelenting. Apparently the young master he killed was favoured quite heavily because the Throne were seriously unwilling to let the matter rest even now that they knew who they were dealing with. It was stupid but Ares wasn't here to chide them for their idiocy and correct their ways like some generous monk who refused to shed blood. They had multiple chances to leave well enough alone and yet they were still after him and constantly nipping on his heels. Sure they were more concerned with the treasure he knew of right now but it's not like their primary grudge had disappeared, it had just become secondary until everything else was dealt with first. Long story short, death. Death was the only way to stop these people and Ares had a knack for bestowing it upon people who bothered him so this was gong to be a match made in heaven...
Or maybe hell?
Ares wasn't sure where the majority of these clansmen would end up and he didn't particularly care either because it would never come to matter. His extinction Converter was a cruel treasure in that these people would never experience the afterlife, merely the sensation of becoming fuel for Ares' magic, but oh well. A burning soul, that was the price they paid for making an enemy out of someone who was perhaps far too lenient in the first place. It's not like Ares was some murderous tyrant, he gave out chances like a creepy man in a van gave out free candy. If Ares was at the point where killing someone was his preferred option then it wasn't in question any longer whether he was right to do it or not by then or whether it was deserved. He didn't have the patience of a saint, far from it, but he tolerated initial misgivings a heck of a lot more than most other cultivators did. The Throne had really pushed their luck way too far... But Ares wasn't going to start with them, he already swore to deal with the Nu Kings first. They were the more pressing of his concerns because Ares had no idea what this Isaz Torchbearer plot entailed or when it would be put in motion. Every second mattered when dealing with these unwitting tools of Neo Gear and so he directed his attention to the western side of the mountain where they were supposedly lying in wait to ambush anyone who entered their territory. Also, though it was petty, the Throne members, stupid though they were, at least showed Ares respect in that they didn't want to face him head on. They were trying to pit him against the Nu Kings because they were aware of his strength and wanted to weaken him first. It was insulting that the Nu Kings didn't see Ares this way so he would teach them a lesson or two about misjudging people they really couldn't afford to misjudge.
Garmr, AKA Ares, strolled towards the western side of the mountain and was greeted by a rather strange sight but not one that couldn't be explained. Nearly a hundred floating boats, with neon oars rowing through the sky, hovered above the mountain and pointed their hologram sails towards Ares. Up until a good few years ago the Nu Kings sailed through the snowy mountains on boats but, ever since their leader came back from Neo Gear, their boats were fitted retroactively with hover tech, apparently, hence this odd sight. It was hard to marry the idea of Vikings with cutting edge tech but the results spoke for themselves and Ares couldn't deny what he was seeing before him. It was an odd blend of simplicity, the kind that a barbarian would opt for, and complexity, the sort that a new age engineer would strive to innovate, that made up the design of these boats. They were wooden and old fashioned on the outside but everything else was replaced with modern and luxurious furnishing and flair. What would usually be long rows of plain wooden seats were instead soft and cushioned pews with armrests charging stations for headphones that provided musical entertainment on longer flights. There was a TV at the forefront that played various high octane action flicks and a retro style bar was stationed at the hallway point between the front and back of the ship. The rear was home to a sort of arcade-like training booth with archery targets lined up and constantly darting around while prizes hung behind them and encouraged the Vikings to perform well. Such prizes included higher quality Neo Gear equipment, bountiful and fresh rations like sacks of salt and raw meat, warm furs to help keep warm during colder seasons, and alcohol that could intoxicate a whale even. These boats were very livable and God only knows what the inside of it, the downstairs quarters, looked like. It seemed the Vikings were living like... Well, Kings. Nu Kings, that is. The question, though, was what was expected of them in return... Ares couldn't tell exactly but his Omniscience was flaring up and warning him of something dangerous located within the cores of these ships so he could hazard a guess. All these ships, including the enormous one that wasn't here but belonged to the clan leader...
They were set to explode and bring the mutated mountain toppling down with them.