Encounter with the Bull-Horse

Three days had passed since the harrowing battle in the Netherworld. Blake had anticipated an immediate return to his home planet, but it seemed the mysterious forces that governed this realm had other plans. Perhaps they allowed this time for ascendants to adapt to their newfound abilities, but for Blake, it was a period of relentless introspection and experimentation.

He stood in a desolate corner of the Netherworld, the eerie ambiance casting long, haunting shadows. With a deep breath, he attempted to channel Thunder once more, hoping to master this volatile power. Yet, as he focused his energy, a jolt of electricity surged through him, leaving him momentarily stunned. It was as if Thunder had a mind of its own, refusing to be tamed.

Frustration welled up within him. "Damn it," he muttered, his voice tinged with irritation. "I can't afford to shock myself every time I try to use this power."

The battle against the weak goblin had been a prime example of his struggles. When he attempted to channel Thunder, it had manifested, but not as he intended. Instead of striking his foe, it surged through him, depleting his core capacity. He needed to learn how to wield this power effectively before returning home.

Blake pondered another question that gnawed at him. Would all the ascendants be sent back together, or would they be scattered across different times? It was a perplexing thought that lingered in his mind as he navigated the enigmatic Netherworld.

"Stop overthinking," he chided himself, shaking his head. "Focus on the here and now."

Guided by a gentle wind that seemed to whisper secrets of strength, Blake embarked on his journey through this surreal landscape. The wind was soothing, its presence subtle and unobtrusive, allowing him to retain his clarity of thought. But despite his newfound freedom to roam, he couldn't help but wonder about the dangers that might lurk beyond his sight.

As he walked, his mind drifted to his fortuitous discovery in the maze—a nimble sword and the guidance of the enigmatic king. It had been a stroke of luck, but he couldn't count on every encounter being so favorable. The Netherworld held untold mysteries, and not all of them were likely to be benevolent.

Eventually, as the hours passed and the shadows deepened, Blake decided it was time to make camp for the night. He needed rest to recover his strength and replenish his core capacity, which had become accustomed to consuming the essence of the creatures he battled. While he missed Jay's voice in his head, he had grown accustomed to his friend's absence. Solitude had become his constant companion in this treacherous realm.

Finding a small clearing in the eerie forest, Blake set up camp. He gathered wood for a fire, the flames providing both warmth and a sense of security. He settled down near the flickering flames, his thoughts once again drifting into introspection.

"Why have I not encountered anyone else?" he wondered aloud, his words barely more than a whisper. "Maybe the first ascent is meant to be a solitary journey. But can I ever truly trust anyone in this place? Everyone has their own path to follow, and what if they choose to betray me?"

The notion of betrayal lingered in his mind, a nagging doubt that refused to be silenced. As he lay down near the campfire, preparing to drift into sleep, he couldn't help but reflect on the unpredictable nature of the Netherworld.

The tranquility of the night was shattered in an instant. Blake was jolted awake by a sudden, thunderous noise, and his senses went on high alert. Someone or something was approaching rapidly, and he could hear it, just twenty meters away.

"Fast, very fast," he whispered to himself, his nimble sword in hand, tendrils of Thunder crackling around his arms. He peered into the darkness, trying to discern the source of the approaching danger.

It was not a goblin or a familiar foe. Instead, what emerged from the shadows was a creature unlike any he had encountered before. It had four legs, resembling a bull, but there was a horse-like grace to its movements.

"Actually," Blake mused, "it would be weird to call it a bull. It's more like a combination of a bull and a horse." He couldn't deny that it had a certain majestic quality, even in the midst of this unexpected confrontation.

As the creature drew closer, its intentions remained unclear. It didn't charge recklessly like a typical bull. Instead, it moved with calculated purpose, leaving Blake both intrigued and wary. He couldn't help but wonder what this enigmatic being sought.

With his nimble sword at the ready and Thunder coursing through his veins, Blake steeled himself for the imminent encounter. The Netherworld continued to be a place of uncertainty and danger, and he had learned that vigilance was his greatest ally.

The battle was about to begin, and Blake was determined to face this new challenge with the same unwavering resolve that had carried him through countless trials before.