Kazaf: The upside down

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Chapter 10: The Cultivator's Trial

Kazaf's heart was still pounding from his encounter with the winged lion, but the creature had backed off, seemingly satisfied with his display of strength. Alaca stood next to him, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for something—someone, maybe.

"That was only the beginning," she said quietly, breaking the silence. "The creatures of the down are the least of your worries. Cultivators are the real challenge here. And not just any cultivators—the ones who have mastered their essence to a level beyond what you can imagine."

Kazaf wiped the sweat from his brow, his thoughts still racing. "What do you mean by that? What kind of cultivators are we talking about?"

Alaca's gaze remained steady. "The cultivators who live here are not like the ones you'll find in the upside world. They've spent years—centuries, even—perfecting their abilities. Their essence flows through them like an extension of their body. If you're to survive, you'll need to learn to control your own essence to that degree."

Kazaf nodded, determined but also nervous. He had just unlocked his own energy, but mastering it felt like an insurmountable task. "How do I even begin to control it like that?"

Alaca's lips curled into a thin smile. "It's not something you can learn overnight. It's a journey, Kazaf. A difficult one."

Before Kazaf could respond, the ground beneath them shook. The air seemed to vibrate with an unseen force, and a low rumble filled the atmosphere. It wasn't the same tremor that came from the lion's wings, but something far more powerful, more controlled.

Kazaf instinctively reached for his knife, his senses on high alert. "What's happening?"

Alaca raised her hand, silencing him with a gesture. "The down world is alive with essence, Kazaf. There are trials here—tests that even the most seasoned cultivators must face. It's not uncommon for someone to challenge newcomers who step into the realm."

From the darkness of the twisted trees ahead, a figure emerged. The figure was cloaked in shadows, their presence exuding a cold, palpable power. As the figure stepped into the moonlight, Kazaf saw a man who appeared older than his years, with long black hair and piercing eyes that seemed to glow with an unnatural intensity.

"This is one of them," Alaca said softly. "The Cultivator Lords. The ones who control the essence of the down world. His name is Malik."

Malik's voice was like ice, cutting through the air. "I sensed a disturbance. A halfbreed walking through the sacred land of the down world." His gaze flickered to Kazaf. "You don't belong here."

Kazaf stood tall, his hands clenched at his sides. "I belong wherever my strength can take me."

Malik's lips twitched in a smile, but it wasn't a friendly one. "Is that so? Then let's see if your strength is enough to face me."

Before Kazaf could react, Malik raised his hand. The ground trembled again, and suddenly, the earth beneath them cracked open. From the fissure, dark tendrils of energy shot upward, wrapping around Kazaf's arms and legs like chains.

Kazaf grunted as the energy squeezed tighter. He struggled to free himself, but the tendrils only tightened their grip. His energy flared within him, but the more he tried to use it, the more the tendrils seemed to drain it away.

"You'll need more than raw strength to survive here," Malik said, his voice cold and distant. "You'll need control. You'll need discipline."

Kazaf's mind raced. He had been taught to react, to use his power in bursts when needed. But now, that power was being drained, his essence slipping away like water through his fingers. He needed to think, to use what Alaca had taught him—to anticipate, not just react.

Alaca's voice cut through the tension. "Kazaf! Focus! Don't fight the energy—control it. You have essence within you. Let it flow."

Kazaf took a deep breath, his mind clearing as he focused inward. He could feel the energy in his veins, pulsing with life, but it was chaotic—wild, just like the world around him. Malik was right. He had no control.

But Kazaf wasn't going to give up that easily. He closed his eyes, sinking deeper into himself, reaching for that energy, not to fight it, but to bend it to his will.

The tendrils of energy around him started to slacken, then slowly unraveled. Kazaf's heart raced as he felt the power course through him, but now, instead of trying to overpower it, he guided it, shaping it with his will.

The dark energy faded as Kazaf's essence began to dominate. The chains of power that had once held him now vanished, dissipating into the air like mist.

Malik's expression darkened as he realized what Kazaf had done. "Impressive," he muttered, though his voice lacked the admiration Kazaf might have expected. "But that's only the beginning. There are far greater challenges ahead."

Kazaf stood tall, his breath steady now, his energy thrumming with newfound control. "Then I'll face them."

Malik's eyes narrowed. "We'll see. I don't expect you to survive long enough to be a real threat. But we'll see how far you can go."

With a flick of his wrist, Malik turned and began to fade into the shadows, leaving Kazaf and Alaca in the moonlit clearing. The challenge wasn't over, but Kazaf had passed his first test.

Alaca turned to him, her gaze unreadable. "That's a Cultivator Lord. You've made an impression."

Kazaf exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of what he had just faced. "Is this what I'll be up against from now on?"

Alaca nodded. "Yes. And it's only going to get harder."

Kazaf's resolve hardened. "Then I'll be ready."

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