Sarradur Naga (Ancient Variant). E-Class // Sapient. Born from the sands of an ocean world that became a vast desert basin, the Sarradur Naga fights with incredible speed, dancing in a endless flash of blades. Born as an armless viper, on reaching maturity in cultivation they sprout their first set of arms - with prodigal talents gaining up to six in all and becoming whirling gods of death.

The specimen before him was six-armed, each powerful limb holding a different blade. It did look like a god of death. It looked as if it could wade through a sea of enemies and come out unstained except for the flying of its foes’ blood.

Compared to many of the forms on offer the Sarradur Naga was giant; only the other Ancient Variant, the crocodilian lizardfolk, could compare. From tip to tail it was easily twelve feet long and while its build was mostly sinew, thin and fast rather than bulky and strong, it was still massive enough that its biceps dwarfed what a human could hope for.

It had a dark orange color to its scales, meant to match with desert sands. A streak of bright blue ran up its belly and formed a vibrant mask across its face, and its lower jaw was split into two separate pieces, giving it a trifold mouth that opened like an alien flower to expose long, poisoned fangs. It had a cobra’s flat hood, and running down the back, three streaks of electric blue feathers that trailed down its spine like war stripes.

There was no other choice.

Nic swam forward and the sphere began to shrink, the Bloodline Spark diminishing into an ever-brighter, ever-more-compact blaze of energy. It actually began to move away, as if trying to escape him-

But the Ur-Heart in his chest resonated, and the waves of spiritual strength that poured outwards still the renegade Spark. The fire sylphs he’d seen within the black marble burst from his chest, dancing in the red waters of the Bloodline Sea, and surrounded the miniature sun. With shouts and graceful, swimming motions they caught it and carried it towards him, pressing the blazing mote of energy down into the space above Nic’s heart.

Instantly, shocking waves of power roiled through his skin. The spark slammed against his body with percussive force, trying to break free- it was nothing like the sedate, docile Spark that Redjaw had absorbed, but instead was possessed with a will of its own that refused to be captured, refused to be tamed.

Nic gritted his teeth, rotating his cultivation and drawing strength from the Tributary Bloodclay in his belly to hold down the Spark and begin to chip away at it- creating a brutal spike of Essence and slamming it down into the troublesome sun.

Motes of power and light broke away, immediately fleeing from his skin and trying to vanish into the sea. Each one was caught by a sylph, carried back to press into his body, allowing him to sweep them down and dissolve them into his core.

Again and again the process repeated, each hammering strike of concentrated Essence against the Spark producing more runaway fireflies. The sylphs were beginning to fade, to lose their strength as they laughed and caught the escaping energies for him.

He doubled down. The clay in his belly was strengthening his spiritual form, creating a dark gravity that slowly dragged in the motes and made it harder for them to escape the flowing Essence that surged through his veins and drew in the power he stole from the fading Bloodline Spark.

He was trying to drown a sun in his cultivation base.

And it was working.

Before he’d stepped through to the E-Class it would simply have been impossible to do more than rip away a few motes and allow the Spark to escape him. Now, he could hold it in place with one mental hand and strike with the other, chiseling away at its strength. Each blow dimmed the tiny sun, bringing it closer to being entirely absorbed-

And each blow strained at his mental and spiritual resources, making his soul feel as if it was being crushed by an immense gravity. He actually felt his meridians begin to crack open, over-stressed, suffering damage that would follow him into the real world.

It was a race to the death. Either Nic’s aura would be depleted first- or the Bloodline Spark would be broken apart.

And Nic was beginning to fade faster and faster. His breaking meridians were leaking aura, and his spirit form was beginning to shake apart. The sun was only half-diminished, still sending waves of angry strength to try and break free, and it was beginning to work- it was able to slowly drag itself forward within its chest, ready to break away.

The sylphs were fading out in sparks of bright-red fire. Nothing remained to catch the motes that broke from his skin, carrying the power of the Bloodline Spark out to be wasted in the wider sea.

Nic was flailing, struggling to hold on.

With a sudden burst of strength the Spark pushed hard against its chest and tore through the failing binding of the Ur-Heart. Nic had no choice-

He detonated the Bloodline Gate, destroying his heart in the real world in a violent explosion of power, The sea shook with fury as strength flooded Nic’s spiritual form, allowing him to seize the Spark and pull it back in with brutal force.

Something new was gathering. Threads of strange, squiggling energy emerged within the sea and began to cascade into his body, adding a new and bizarre form of strength.

With a savage roar he slammed down against the Spark, nearly shattering it in one massive blow. The tides had turned.

“We’re here.”

Four orbs of light surrounded him. One was a patient, deep blue like the sea. One was ink black and untidy. The third was blood red and formed of a single squiggling line coiled in on itself. The fourth was a sun with a fetal curl of nascent flesh within.

They radiated out a force that clamped down on the Spark before it could break free, and pushed the motes of drifting power back into Nic’s spiritual flesh to be absorbed. He felt the pressure lessen, the burning heat in his meridians fading to a cool glow as he had a second - just a second - to regain his focus and draw in a breath.

And then he resumed his assault.

The Bloodline Spark could no longer resist. It was held down by five wills, five iron-strong ambitions, and Nic hammered it away, breaking it into shards and sweeping them into his core as the sun of bloodline power was slowly drowned into his maelstrom of a cultivation base.

Bit by bit the Spark broke apart, until only the final, innermost fragment of essence remained. It was a lightning-bolt thread of many-colored fire, and with a sigh, Nic allowed it to escape.

He didn’t want to give up his axolotl form. It was too useful, too good at curing his wounds and exploring the underwater depths.

His goal from the start had been to achieve a powerful Warform he could maintain for hours at a time.

And as the dream of the Bloodline Sea began to fade, Nic knew he’d achieved just that.

---

Nic awoke to find his body was smeared with black filth, pressed from his veins during the explosive confrontation between himself and the powers buried within his own bloodline. His meridians ached, overtaxed, but his actual flesh and blood felt invigorated.

It was a strange paradox. Half-exhausted, half-exhilarated.

His heart beat in his chest as if nothing had ever happened, flesh restored by the same power that had pushed him through to evolution. Only the seal of the Bloodline Gate was gone.

Nylea stood over him, holding out a towel and pinching her nose to escape the stink of the putrid slime that covered Nic. “If you go out there like that, Cegan will never let you live it down. I can hear the schoolyard taunts already.”

Nic grinned. “Cegan is going to be the one living today down.”

He had reached for a Warform that would crush the competition underfoot-

But the strange energy he’d encountered within the Bloodline Sea had different plans.

His axolotl form had been changed as well. A stripe of black scales had appeared down his back, tracing up his tail, along his spine, and between the bony ridges of his eyebrows. His head was more angular and snakelike. His tail was more powerful, his tongue was forked and he flexed a new set of muscles within his mouth.

Fangs slid out, giving his axolotl form precisely two teeth- both adorable and venomously lethal.

These new additions seemed to correspond to his form as a Sarradur, adding serpentine features and speed to his body.

More concerning were the short, curved black spikes that now extended from his joints, tiny thorns of onyx sprouting from his knees and elbows. They mirrored the twin rows of stubby black horns that ran down his skull. Bright red marking surrounded his eyes, making his once round and harmless face seem warlike- although still pretty cute.

Genus:

Salamandrian

Phenotype:

Axolotl Newt-Folk (Pandemonium Variant)

Warforms:

Sarradur Naga (Ancient Variant)

Pandemonium…

In his past life, Nic had devilish blood in his veins. Had that reasserted itself now, somehow following him through the Lottery and reincarnation?

Either way- he’d have to find out what it meant in his own time.

He rolled onto his feet, and flexed his hand as he walked out into the dawn, sunlight flooding in through the green leaves of the massive treetop where the temple sat.

The entire guard was waiting for him. They formed a massive circle around Cegan and two other mantis-folk, all of them scarred, tanned, athletically fit. Cegan had discarded his usual robe to show a chest full of skin inscriptions, and only a faint scar where Nic’s blade had pierced his gut.

He had adapted to his previous loss, and shifted to a long straight blade for piercing strikes and reach, with a small dagger in his other hand to defend once Nic managed to close the gap. His allies had opted for a brutal two-handed sword and a broad saber that resembled a curved cleaver.

Nic was sure they were all king-shit at one point in their lives.

But that point was long, long past.

“As you requested, our three best. If you’ve thought better of this ridiculous, arrogant challenge-”

Nic shifted. His body expanded, his armor sinking down to join with his new form, flesh and bone crunching in sick, satisfying snaps and squishy pushes as his axolotl form dissolved and pure Essence flooded out of his skin to form a new body. One that towered over Cegan and the rest.

He stood eight feet tall atop a curling tail of blue-and-orange scales, with a broad, sleek chest and six arms. Nic’s Warform differed from the one he’d seen in the dream- it was spikier, more aggressive, with blue-red markings in the shape of ferocious painted eyes staring out from the underside of his hood. His left eye was a sphere of blue crystal, and spines of translucent gemstone ran down the side of his skull.

He flexed slowly, admiring the way his new body felt. Adjusting himself to the strange way his muscles moved in his chest, that entire area having been adapted to house three stacked rows of arms. It would take some getting used to having a tail in place of legs, but the slithering coils of scales were a weapon and a form of movement in one, and his long body gave him flexible angles of assault that a short axolotl form couldn’t match.

Cegan was still talking.

Nic didn’t care.

“Yes, yes. Your evolution. We were prepared for this-” They were drawing talismans from their pockets, wrapping their fists in strings of meditation beads that carried small jade medallions hanging by tasseled threads. “- and you will not see fear in our eyes. I will give you one more chance. If you surrender.”

Nic shot forward. Four of his arms slammed palm-first against the ground, thrusting him forward. His fifth reached out, clawed fingers stretching towards Cegan’s throat as he watched the mantis-folk’s eyes widen in slow motion.

A shield of golden energy rose up before Nic, and he slammed into it with a force that made the holy runes drifting within the barrier shudder. Saber and greatsword whipped against his skin, tearing open his scales, but Nic didn't care.

He reared up and brought his six hands slamming down, again and again, a constant flurry of blows like a shower of descending meteors.

Cegan was still focusing light and aura into his blade, building up some kind of technique. He barely had time to finish it before Nic broke through, shattering the barrier.

He backhanded the saber-wielder, sending him flying. He grasped the greatsword-carrying mantis by the neck and flung him aside. Cegan was the last one left, and shouted in desperation as his blade shot forward, becoming a blazing lance aimed for Nic’s throat.

Nic lifted his hand and a wave of mud erupted from the ground, swallowing the attack with ease.

Cegan stumbled back. The sheer size of his mistake was clear in his eyes, but Nic showed no mercy. His hand clamped across Cegan’s throat and hauled him into the air-

Nic roared with utter triumph, jaw splitting open as poison-flecked spittle sprayed across Cegan’s face.

Then he slammed Cegan down into the ground with bone-breaking might. To his credit, the guard captain tried to rise, but Nic clenched his fist and mud poured over his limbs, binding him tight. There was no returning from such an utter defeat- there would be no third round.