The decision made, Kaito wasted no time. With a solemn nod to the Water Village leader, Kaito departed Verdant Current, leaving the lush forest behind. His destination: the Crimson Wastes. His goal: answers. His method: his own mastery of wind.
He traveled for days, cutting across the vast Whispering Plains, an endless stretch of tall, rustling grasses. The air grew drier with each passing mile, the green of the forest slowly fading into muted browns and golds. Flying high allowed him to cover huge distances quickly, saving his energy while also letting him sense things far away. He felt the small shifts in the land's energy, finding hidden beast spirits and avoiding isolated groups of people. The journey was lonely, yet not empty; the wind was always with him, a constant reminder of his power.
It was on the fifth day, as the sun began to set, painting the western sky in fiery colors, that Kaito sensed something much bigger than a beast spirit. A steady thudding against the earth, a vibration in the air, even from miles away. This was organized, disciplined, and massive.
He flew higher, a tiny speck against the evening sky, and looked down. Below, stretching across the plains like a dark, determined snake, was an army.
Thousands of figures marched in neat lines, their armor shining faintly in the fading light. Their flags, though new to Kaito, flapped steadily in the evening breeze. He could feel their energy signatures, a mix of strong fighters and powerful leaders, mostly Earth and Wood users. This was clearly a force from the Ironwood Alliance, a group of clans known for their strength and large numbers.
Curiosity, and a smart idea, pulled Kaito closer. He flew lower, staying just out of sight, letting the sounds of their march reach him: the steady thud of boots, the creak of leather, the low murmur of voices. He could see the heavy, strong figures of Earth users, their steps solid, and the more nimble forms of Wood users, who moved with a springy, natural flow.
Their direction was clear: east, towards the dim glow that sometimes shimmered on the horizon – the dangerous edge of the Crimson Wastes. This army was heading to the front lines of the war against the Blood Sovereign, a powerful and terrible leader of rogue energy users.
Kaito thought about what to do. He could keep going alone, using his speed and power to get past the fighting and go straight into the Crimson Wastes. But the sheer size of the army, and the grim determination he felt from them, suggested a major fight. Joining them, even for a short time, offered clear benefits: information about the Blood Sovereign's forces, protection from being spotted right away, and maybe a direct path to the enemy's core. More importantly, it meant he could inflict maximum damage on the Blood Cultivators, not just as one person, but as a devastating force.
He flew down further, landing softly behind a large rock near the army's side. He waited for a moment, feeling a small group of scouts approaching.
The two scouts, both strong Earth users in heavy leather armor, saw him almost immediately. Their hands moved to get ready to use their energy.
"Who goes there?" one growled, his voice deep.
Kaito stepped forward, showing himself. "I am Kaito, a traveler. I saw your army marching east. You go to war with the Crimson Wastes, don't you?"
The scouts looked at each other with caution. They felt Kaito's extraordinary energy, a power completely new to their Earth and Wood types, but clearly very strong. It was obvious he wasn't just a regular wanderer.
"That is for the commanders to know," the second scout replied, a hint of doubt in his voice. "But yes, we are part of the Ironwood Alliance's attack. And you are not supposed to be here."
"I want to join your group," Kaito said simply.
The scouts scoffed. "Join? We are a trained army, not just a bunch of fighters. What skill do you have that makes you worthy of fighting with the Ironwood Alliance?"
Kaito paused, then held out his hand. A small, silent cyclone formed above his palm, not destroying anything, but very focused. He then thought, and the cyclone grew and shrank very fast, making the air around it hum with hidden power. He thought again, and the cyclone disappeared, only to reappear a few feet away, dancing lightly over some grass.
The scouts stared, their mouths open. This was beyond anything they had ever seen. It wasn't just using energy; it was complete control over the very element of the world.
Just then, a voice boomed from behind them. "What's all this noise?"
A strongly built man, as solid as an old tree, walked into view. This was General Brok, the leader of the Ironwood Alliance, his strong Earth energy radiating immense, steady power. He wore impressive, layered armor made from tough, rare wood and strengthened with Earth energy. His sharp eyes looked at Kaito.
"General Brok, sir!" the first scout stammered. "This… this stranger. He wants to join us. And his power…"
Brok's eyes narrowed as he felt Kaito's presence. He felt the sheer size of Kaito's energy, a power that made his own seem small, yet felt subtle, almost like air. He understood the basic difference between Kaito's unique, flowing power and the solid, fixed energies of his own forces. He looked at the patch of grass where Kaito's cyclone had danced. He didn't need a show to understand.
"You are Kaito," Brok said, a rare flicker of surprise on his usually calm face. "The one who traveled from the west."
Kaito nodded. "I am. And I seek to confront the Blood Sovereign. If your goal matches mine, then I will fight with you."
Brok thought about it, his face unreadable. He was a practical leader. He knew the cost of their wars, the terrible losses they suffered against the Blood Cultivators' sneaky energy-draining methods. A person with Kaito's power could change everything.
"We don't take just anyone on the front lines," Brok said, his voice serious. "This is a tough war, fought against evil methods. You are not a soldier trained in our ways, our plans. You would be a wild card."
"A wild card that can cut through their lines like a storm," Kaito replied, his voice steady. "You fight to push them back. I fight for answers, and for justice. My methods are precise. I will inflict maximum damage."
Brok looked at him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "Very well, Kaito. You are not a soldier; you are a spear. You will move on your own, you will not be held back by our plans, but your goal will be the same as ours: to crush the Blood Sovereign's forces. We will be fighting at Ashfall Pass in two days. It's a key passage into the heart of the Crimson Wastes. The Blood Sovereign himself is said to be leading the defense."
Kaito felt a grim satisfaction. This was his chance. A direct fight, supported by an entire army. He would find his answers, one way or another.
"Understood, General," Kaito replied, a subtle, almost unseen surge of wind energy moving within him, a silent promise of the storm to come. The army moved on, a wave of warriors and strong Earth energy, and Kaito, a silent, invisible gale, moved with them, drawn powerfully towards the heart of the Crimson Wastes. He was no longer just a boy from a desert village; he was a force of nature, unleashed.
The next two days with the Ironwood Alliance army were a strange mix of observation and preparation. Kaito kept to himself, rarely speaking, but constantly aware. He would sometimes fly high above the marching columns, mapping the terrain ahead, using his wind sensing to detect distant enemy patrols that the army's own scouts might miss. He saw their formations, their discipline, their heavy equipment designed for sustained combat. They had a solid, if somewhat slow, approach.
He observed their training drills, watching as Earth users raised sturdy earthen barriers and Wood users created dense, thorny thickets for defense. He saw their medics, their healers using gentle Wood energy to mend wounds. He sensed the underlying anxiety among the soldiers, the grim acceptance of the dangers that lay ahead in the Crimson Wastes. They were brave, but they were also aware of the insidious nature of their enemy.
Kaito also witnessed General Brok's leadership. The General was a man of few words, but his presence was a grounding force. He moved among his troops, his immense Earth energy providing a quiet strength, his orders clear and unwavering. He was preparing them for a brutal fight, and Kaito respected that.
During one evening, as the army set up camp, Kaito stood apart, watching the last embers of the sunset. Brok approached him, a steaming cup in his hand.
"Tea," Brok grunted, offering it. "Helps with the dust."
Kaito took it, the warmth a welcome sensation in the cool desert evening. "Thank you."
"Your power," Brok said, his voice low, "it's... unique. Nothing like our Earth or the Water of the Verdant Current. Where did you learn such methods?"
Kaito chose his words carefully. "From an ancient place. Knowledge, long forgotten." He didn't elaborate, and Brok, surprisingly, didn't press. He seemed to understand that some things were beyond simple explanation.
"The Blood Cultivators," Brok continued, his gaze hardening, "they fight differently. They don't just clash with strength. They seek to corrupt, to drain. They use rituals, traps. Their numbers are vast, drawn from the desperate and the cruel. And the Blood Sovereign… he is a monster. He has devoured the life force of countless others to reach his power."
Kaito's grip tightened on the cup. "I understand. I'm ready."
Brok nodded slowly. "Ashfall Pass. It's a narrow canyon, treacherous terrain. They've fortified it heavily. It will be a meat grinder. Our plan is a frontal assault, to draw their attention, while a smaller force tries to flank. Your abilities, Kaito, will be best used to disrupt their lines, to hit them where they least expect it. Create chaos. Break their spirit."
Kaito looked out at the distant, dark silhouette of the canyon. Chaos. Break their spirit. He could do that. He was the uncontained wind, and he was about to unleash a storm unlike anything the Crimson Wastes had ever known. His parents. He would find out what happened. And if the Blood Sovereign was involved, he would make him pay. The wait was almost over.