On the stranger's hand was a vial filled with a liquid.
'He wants to sedate me.' Lawa thought and looked beside the man. A big sac, empty that can store someone his size.
The man stirred up; his forehead was bruised; as he snapped his eyes open, there was fear in them.
"Please. Don't kill me… I will give you anything I have."
Lawa wasn't holding him with any weapon but a Yellowstone that floated above the man's head. It was enough to cause damage but in this confined location and limited movement, his mastery wasn't enough to kill the man in one go.
And by the injury of the man. His body was strong.
That was when Lawa recalled important information. The man wasn't knocked out by the stone alone but by Lawa's pressure.
Lawa's eyes sharpened and made the Yellowstone ram at the man's face.
The man can move a little and defend himself but his body trembled with utter fear before he fainted again.
Lawa raised his hand and looked at them.
"Weight Of Rena!"
It has different names, but Weight Of Rena is what most call it. At least in the Marmara Clan.
"It's a good thing I didn't go back"
Weight Of Rena was a situation where a cultivator exhibited pressure that caused fear and intimidation to their opponents by their intention alone.
It wasn't achieved through training, or just because one was an extreme genius. No. It came when one lived an extended life of hardship, fighting, killing and hunting to extremes.
That extreme experience shifted the mindset of a person which affected their Rena to exert the pressure.
Weight Of Rena was the primary tool used by most Third Stage Cultivators to control their surroundings and people.
Also, those veteran fighters in the Second Stage attained it as long as they had the stack of relevant extreme experience.
If he had it, then the other Prophets surely have it. The moment they realize they have gained it, their domination will increase.
The very reason why he changed his mind to continue was the Luno Settlement scouts he saw. If a small settlement can have that, what say a big Clan like theirs?
The very idea of staying around the Clan area of activities will be pointless. He will only paint himself as a target by the clan scout.
The fear of his name and reputation tarnishing will hang on his neck. His sister might also know where he is and she will bring him back.
He will live ashamed of himself and that will further deteriorate his mind.
The safeguard of his little ego was what made him decide to just go ahead. Of course, going didn't mean he would end up following his plan.
He was still debating. Should he put himself in danger or not?
To his core, he felt like he had bit more than he could chew.
He shook his head when he heard another ejection.
His hand is in the bag over his scribe tablets. He wanted to read them but he was apprehensive. He really doesn't want to come in contact with anything that will push him toward achieving the goals.
In the end, he had to. Where he was going needed his head fresh and filled with the plan. Whether he went on to achieve them didn't matter, what mattered was surviving what was there.
Up, in a pressureless atmosphere, time seems skewed to their prescription. Lawa couldn't judge how long they had been moving.
"This craft work is something. The momentum of the throw is still pushing!"
The tube wasn't being propelled. It was from the initial thrust.
The cloak around him pulse. The second craft on it glowed while the one that latched at the tube glowed.
The liquid around him became liquid and covered him. This time he can't breathe.
The cylindrical tube where Lawa was cracked, and immediately, what connected him with the segments was undone, and he was yanked away.
If this was within a pressure atmosphere, it would be more violent, and the shock could kill many body stages that weren't firm on body strength.
It was dizzy, jittering as he held on. Like being plunged into the water and then being rammed by many things. And then silent.
***
Throw Destination was the fastest way of travelling that any person could get, but the cost was astronomical. Cost not on monetary value but on dangers of landing.
Anyone can perish. Many had perished. Many more will perish.
Lawa'sveyes snapped open. "I'm alive!" That's what came to his mouth first and then he smiled.
"Haha. Yellow Sand Dune!"
Around him was a small heap of sand. He was encased, protected and concealed. Unfortunately, anyone who sees it will know it wasn't naturally made.
There was no sand around, only hard ground, shrubs and tall trees. The small sand dune appeared alien to the location.
But it did work as Lawa crawled out and found himself amidst the nature of the thick forest.
Lawa's heart pounded erratically, he was out of his reverie of arrival and back to shift in land and its nature.
The yellow sand floated around him through his instincts; as he worriedly looked around and shifted his body, the sand also followed.
It was after several minutes that he concluded that there was nothing close that might harm him.
He reached his hand inside his bag and pulled out a tablet where he scribes geographical location based on his memory.
Failing to relate to anything, he made the sand shimmer around, and he made it up, following the body of a tall tree.
The sand particles rustle the leaves and the fruits.
He eyed the fruit well and ignored it. But he couldn't help it as he pulled out a tablet and went through it, hoping there was information about this type of fruit before him.
Unfortunately, there weren't. Nonetheless, he plucked it and tucked it away.
Lawa can't bypass fruit allure.