Under the god's control, he did not regard the yakshas as his subjects. He treated them as tools of slaughter, as slaves. In every battle, more than one yaksha would fall. After each battle, the god would capture more young yakshas to replenish his supply of killing tools.
Thus, the yakshas lived every moment on the edge of life and death. In every great battle, they could die. Among all the yakshas controlled by this god, Hepuyuan had survived the longest. Naturally, he became the eldest brother to all the others. Not only did he find ways to make Almond Tofu for them, but he also frequently helped other yakshas on the battlefield. He treated them all as his younger brothers and sisters.
Even toward a yaksha as hostile as the Alatus, Hepuyuan was patient. In his spare time, he would make a pot of Almond Tofu or tell stories of his own past and of the yakshas who had died.
Gradually, after hearing these stories, Alatus let down his guard. He even began to share his own story.
"The god attacked us. He killed all the yakshas and captured the young ones, using elemental power to control us. But the other controlled yakshas couldn't adapt and died. I was the only one who survived."
Though the god had the power to control, it carried great risk. Fewer than a third of the yakshas subjected to it would survive. As the Alatus spoke, his mood grew heavy, affecting the others.
He looked at Hepuyuan with pleading eyes. "Please tell me—how can I get revenge? How can I kill the god?"
Though he was controlled and could neither kill himself nor harm the god, the seed of hatred in his heart had not disappeared. Instead, it had taken root and begun to grow.
Hepuyuan quickly covered his mouth. "Shh—be careful not to let the god's henchmen hear."
If they heard, not only would the Alatus be punished, but all the yakshas would suffer unbearable torment. They did not fear death, but they wanted no part of that suffering.
Alatus did not give up. "Brother Hepuyuan, please tell me—how can we break free from the god's control? I want to kill him."
His gaze was resolute. Though he had only recently been controlled, his past experiences had filled him with a deep hatred for the god. He wanted to avenge the yakshas who had been killed.
Hepuyuan sighed. "We who are controlled cannot raise our blades against the god, nor can we use any form of attack against him."
"But—"
He paused. Alatus pressed, "But what?"
Hepuyuan continued slowly, "The god not only controls our bodies but also suppresses our power. By ourselves, we cannot break free. There is only one way—wait for the god to be locked in a desperate battle, when he withdraws his elemental power. Only then can we succeed."
This was the only method Hepuyuan had conceived after much thought, the opportunity he had been waiting for. As the Archon War grew more intense and more powerful gods joined the fray, sooner or later, the god who controlled them would be drawn into a desperate fight and would withdraw his elemental power. That would be their only chance to break free.
Alatus was overjoyed, but then his brows furrowed again. The god was extremely powerful. Waiting for him to be in a desperate battle could take an unknown amount of time.
But his gaze grew even more determined. "I will wait for that day. I will witness the god's death."
In that moment, he silently resolved to wait for that day to come. Then he looked at Hepuyuan, knowing that his eldest brother was waiting for the same thing.
"Brother Hepuyuan, teach me martial arts. I want to become stronger."
Alatus set aside his hatred and began to face reality. Seeing this, Hepuyuan knew that this young yaksha was cut from the same cloth as himself. He smiled.
"Alright. I will teach you polearm arts."
Hepuyuan turned and took out a rusted polearm. In the cramped room, he demonstrated for Alatus. The younger one studied intently.
"This technique is called Whirlwind of Dust."
"This one is called Wheel of Wind and Standing."
"And this one is called Dance of the Subjugating Yaksha."
Every stance and technique was born from Hepuyuan's experiences in countless life-or-death battles, his inspirations drawn from the brink of death. He had created a powerful polearm art.
Without the god's control and suppression, Hepuyuan could have freely wielded elemental power and become a mighty yaksha—perhaps even leading his people to revival. But under the god's suppression, even with such a polearm art, they could not reach its limits and could hardly threaten the god.
Still, they believed that one day, they would break free from the god's shackles.
Hepuyuan taught earnestly. Alatus learned just as earnestly. In the days that followed, whenever he had free time, he would ask Hepuyuan for guidance and gradually mastered all the techniques.
Then, the Archon War grew even more intense. The god who controlled them once again joined the conflict.
As before, the yakshas were sent to the front lines, used as cannon fodder to absorb the enemy's fiercest attacks.
For Hepuyuan, who had long grown accustomed to fighting on the edge of life and death, he knew how to protect himself. But for Alatus, it was his first taste of such a great battle. He had no time to adjust.
Facing the enemy's relentless blades, he could barely parry. Just as a sword was about to strike him, Hepuyuan suddenly turned and used his rusted polearm to block the blow.
But the enemy's blade cut into Hepuyuan's shoulder. Blood sprayed.
"Alatus—use your polearm arts to kill the enemy."