Auspicious Nine / Matthaias Outi - Six Degrees of Separation / The Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad, Week
Auspicious Nine / Matthaias Outi
Six Degrees of Separation / The Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad, Week
Cursed Mushrooms. The curious breed of sentient humanoid mushrooms grew in the depths of dark caverns north of Waycastles Pleuron and Acrocorinth. They were born as fungi sprouting from spores to consume qi and awaken to spiritual wisdom, growing to the average height of human children at four to five feet tall. By their very nature they were one and all cultivators, although their strongest peaked at Foundation Establishment. The legends the quirky little folk told about their history traced their origin to the efforts of a Nascent Soul cultivator named Shiitake who had set out to create powerful cultivation aids and managed to become the progenitor of a new species. Mythical retelling narrated how the original Cursed Mushrooms had taken Shiitake as their lord, serving him faithfully until his disappearance whereupon the Gao clan who had been warded off by his presence began persecuting the Mushrooms. The final straw came when a fearsome foe, remembered only as the Red One, rampaged through the homes of the Cursed Mushrooms forcing them to abandon their territory and flee for safety. Somehow they had made their way into the territory claimed by the Golden Devil Clan and parlayed their masterful skill with curses into an exchange of services for protection.
Auspicious Nine had only heard about the rare trader from the Cursed Mushrooms in Pleuron before he had left. The promise of the Legions had been the access they would give him to the full breadth of Clan territories but he'd been tempted by the idea of setting out on his own as a wandering cultivator to go where interest and resources led him. One of the first areas he'd considered visiting were the Cursed Mushroom lands. Now as a member of the 1313th Legion, Nine felt that he had a decent compromise of the two options of his youth: the backing of the Legions and a wide latitude of independence in his plans. He was returned now to a changed city and was eager to make up for previously missed opportunities.
Nine left the Pleuron manor fleeing the grasp of his sisters, Three and Seven trying to draw him into a spa day. The treeman shuddered at the thought of the last time he'd foolishly accepted their invitation. He appreciated self-care as much as anyone – fondly remembering his patronage of Feng Theros' Warm Baths and Sauna – but the hellish torment those two came up with was more likely to give nightmares than relaxation. He would be much better served using the time for more gainful pursuits and one such opportunity had just come to his attention. Trader Clam of the Cursed Mushrooms was in town and Nine was much minded to pay him a visit.
On his way towards the market plaza where Clam was reported to have set up shop, Nine took a more circuitous route than was necessary. People watching was always a fascinating avenue for social research. Pleuron had always been a city where Golden Devils dominated but presently, there was a heightened background showing of patriotism. A lot of traditional clothes and styling was on display, even the odd toga in the wild. The Clan's colors were very much in evidence in fabric choice and the number of flags bearing the heraldry of the thorny black spear on gold cloth had increased since the last week. Legionnaires from the official final clash of the Jingshen war in the Underworld Spirit Palace had carried back with them the story of the Archegetes' proclamation of victory in the sky and it was fast becoming a popular image to reference the Clan's rising strength. The greatest change was simply the number of serving legionnaires visible on the streets of Pleuron. The Protostrator was organizing a muster to send the Legions to reinforce the beleaguered Righteous powers of the Great Battlefield and Pleuron sat right on the Scorpion Road's path to the Colossus Footsteps Pass.
Nine winced in remembered pain at the cost of just accessing the Elder of War's missive but it had been worth it to be able to take up the mission to plumb the depths of the former Jingshen final redoubt. The idea of joining the detachment going to support the Poison-Crushing Siege had warred with delving into the depths of the Underworld Spirit Palace within him. On one hand he had the opportunity to observe firsthand the Insidious Poison Maze, a living archive of knowledge compiled by the most dedicated researchers of the entire region and one that was manifested as the epitome of verdant growth. On the other hand, he'd already had a taste of the possibilities in the hoarded vaults of the Jingshen at the close of the war and the Protostrator's mission offered the chance to quest as deep as any within their greatest storehouse. In the end, it was down to the fact that the conversion of the vast spirit stone mine into the Underworld Devil Palace, a secondary hub for the Clan, meant that he would have an easier time transferring and maintaining his more permanent research than marching across the Plains to set up shop under a host power.
Passing by the many young juniors flooding the streets, he wished them the best of luck in not dying as he'd found a number of intriguing research subjects among them who he'd love to follow up on. At this time of early afternoon, he was moving with the crowd towards the markets so he was able to reach his destination fairly quickly.
The Autumn Plaza was one of four large spaces in Pleuron named after the four seasons, littered with shopfronts and stalls as traders and customers made brisk business. Nine eyed appreciatively the increased health and growth of the vegetation planted in the plaza. His alterations to the city-spirit's domain were improving the strength of the land as intended and the effect still had some ways to go before the optimized qi flows plateaued.
He cut through the bustle to arrive at a quaint little booth which aset out a variety of dried mushrooms, small talismans and other odds and ends. Manning this business was a squat figure smoking a long pipe, features cast in shade by the large cap that crowned his head. The Cursed Mushroom trader resembled a Lingzhi blown up to humanoid proportions. The features matched the descriptions Nine had been given so he bowed in greeting to the Mushroom. "Greetings, trader Clam. I hope this afternoon finds you in good health."
Clam took a deep pull on his pipe and held it for a long moment as he looked up to study Auspicious Nine. Apparently satisfied with what he found, Clam released the held breath in a puff of black smoke and replied in an unexpectedly gravelly voice, "Greetings to you too and I suppose I'm as well as can be this afternoon. How may I help a seed of the honored savior Jin Muyi?"
Auspicious Nine paused considering Clam's words. "My name is Auspicious Nine," he said, "I suppose that my heritage is immediately obvious. I was hoping to peruse your wares and discuss a few matters about your people. I hope that won't be a bother?"
Clam waved at the set out items on display lazily, puffing on his pipe. "Have at it. I promise I'll listen to your questions but not that you'll get an answer you like or any at all."
Nine moved closer to the booth, looking through the items on offer. As one would expect, the bulk of the goods on sale were mushrooms, mushrooms of all kinds; toadstool, lingzhi, golden needle and more. Wile there were mundane specimens among the lot, most were fit to be considered Lowly Spirit Herbs, useful for alchemy, spirit cuisine or as cultivation aids. Nine picked out several interesting and rare specimens he wanted for his experiments, Clam taking his orders with grunts in reply. Moving on from the mushrooms, Auspicious Nine examined the talismans set to the side. They were simple affairs of stone and wood, carved into odd shapes.
From his counter packing Nine's selected mushrooms, Clam looked over and commented, "Those there made like prayer beads are Cure-Repelling Wards. Good in a pinch if you are caught unprepared but they are fairly weak so don't be relying on them to protect you for too long. The bundled up sort are Debilitating Afflictions. They're really minor annoyances that won't do much against anything beyond the first great realm but they can be a nasty surprise for those not expecting them. Nothing like shitting their pants to disrupt an opponent's focus when you need it."
"I think I'll have a few then," Nine said intrigued, picking up several of both items identified as well as a few other items of interest. The Afflictions came in a wide variety, causing all manner of discomfort from tinnitus to genital itching. Idle thoughts of revenge drifted through Nine's mind, memories of a certain raccoon-eyed expert bubbling to the surface as he rolled the smooth black stone of a Luck Twisting charm in his hands. This should help him match certain treacherous Experts taking advantage of a naive new peer.
Satisfied with his haul, Nine joined Clam at the nearby counter where the Cursed Mushroom trader stood on a stool totaling up Nine's expenses. Handing over the money was pleasantly not painful, largely because it wasn't from his personal funds but an allowance he'd wheedled out of Athena. There were perks to being home and part of the governing family of the city.
"So do you actually have questions for me or was it just empty talk?" Clam said as he handed over the sack containing Nine's purchases.
"Ah well, I thought it best to get my official business done with, before I took up your time," Nine said following after Clam as he returned to his seat in front of his booth.
When the other cultivator was settled into his seat, Nine continued, "First of all, why do you call Jin Muyi the honored savior? Did he perform some great service for your people?"
Clam shifted in his seat feeling for the most comfortable position before replying, "It must be about a century now when they came to our lands. This was your progenitor, Jin Muyi together with Ferenike of the Indomitable Thirteen. Exactly why they'd sought us ought I do not know but they heresy of the Devourer Cult and purged their nest, rescuing those who the cannibals had taken for their sacrifices. I was one of those they saved, just a young shroomling at the time."
"I don't think we've heard about this Devourer Cult?" Auspicious Nine mused.
"You know of Lord Shiitake?" Clam asked to which Nine nodded in assent, "Well those lunatics think that if our ancestors had insisted on being consumed by him, our creator would have remained to protect us in our ancestral lands. To them all shrooms that do not worship him in the aspect of the Devourer are heretics and can be turned into feed and consumed. In their thinking the Qi of those consumed will enhance a chosen one so that they can better grow for Lord Shiitake to prompt his return. Utter madness as you can imagine."
"I have heard of your people's veneration of Lord Shitake. Were these the only beliefs deemed heretical in your faith?" Nine asked.
Clam sighed and said, "If we're going to be talking worship then you might as well pull out the stool from behind the counter. This is going to be a long conversation."
Nine obliged him and the two talked throughout the day and into the night. The treeman seeker of knowledge was eager to pump Clam for every piece of information he could from the nature of Cursed Mushroom society to their life cycle and more. Nine's interrogation of Clam was relentless, continuing around interruptions for the trader to attend to customers and eat. When finally night had fallen and Clam was closing up for the day, Nine finally put a pause to his questioning.
"Sheesh, you sure got a dire thirst for answers there, lad," Clam growled, "I feel like I've been wrung out and life sucked out of me."
"What can I say?" Nine flashed a smile, "The quest for knowledge has captured me and I could hardly waste this opportunity to get firsthand access."
"Hmm," Clam thought and then spoke up, "If you are that interested in learning about the Cursed Mushroom people, why don't you come with me when I return home? I'm just about done here and Pleuron was the last stop in my circuit before I head back. You can't do better than visiting in person to get answers to all your questions. I'd put in a word with the elders to grease the wheels for you. So what do you say?
Auspicious Nine didn't have to think about it. "Give me a time and a place and I'll be waiting for you."
Clam was true to his word and weeks later, Auspicious Nine found himself at the entrance to the labyrinth of caverns that the Curse Mushrooms called home. Eagerly he went forth into the dark and damp, chasing after knowledge.
***
Matthaias Outi sat in the dark catching his breath, his entire body feeling like a leaden weight. With practiced familiarity his hands found their way into his travel pack pulling out carefully packed rations. Careful bites of dried scorpion and spiced lamb jerky were taken, washed down with some… enhanced water from a flask. After a certain point in cultivation, one could go without eating and drinking, but just because one could didn't mean they should, and after all those years he absolutely was not going to pass up a chance to eat while he could before he suddenly very much could not. Unfortunately, for all that the taste of his very expensive rations were good, another sense was robbed in return—he was without conventional sight, everything around him swallowed by complete darkness. This was no natural shadow he found himself in but an oppressive umbral shroud consumed that even the slightest bit of light. With more unconventional senses, it was as though he was embraced by a thick fog of anti-light, although sound and smell were still there, thankfully. After Qiguai, this much didn't actually do more than irritate him, but the rather malicious Will saturating the air around him did its job of snuffing out light and warmth very well. It knew him in some crude way and matched his efforts to oppose it, so much so that he chose to focus on his other senses rather than wasting more energy. An almost mocking intent caressed him as his efforts to grasp it, much less his initial attempts to consume it, finally ceased. The curse of the Light-Killing Abyss was firmly beyond his reach, and as such, by the reckoning of the timepiece he'd carried with him, this was the ninth day he'd been traversing this so-called trial.
Sighing as he was forced to get back up after a few stolen minutes of rest, he permitted himself the luxury of muttering under his breath in irritation. "What was this Chief even thinking? I ask for a good starting point to get better at using cursed technique and he talks to me about a trial for young Cursed Mushrooms—did he even remember or care to tell me that the trial scales to the challenger and that the Mushrooms haven't sent in anyone above 9th Heavenstage in centuries? No, of course he doesn't! Nobody remembers the important things when I ask them! So now I'm bloody late—I should've been out of here—" and then he abruptly fell silent, hearing some scurrying nearby. Well-deserved venting aside, misery did not want for company around here.
He clenched the sturdy shaft of the walking stick that had served him so well—he'd have to investigate this wood, at least, it would be a nice spare spear haft—he'd get something out of this side trip. His useless sight already cast aside, he cocked his ears, listening carefully and straining his spiritual senses to search for telltale shifts in the fog of the shadowy curse. His rest area was a shallow curve in the wall of the cavern, a small recess where he could secure the entrance while taking his break. It was dangerous to stay within in an area with just one exit but he'd needed a moment's reprieve from constantly surveying around him for danger, but after some time here he realized that all the creatures were bizarrely… loud, and thus rather easily sensed. Which was pretty good for him, because he e could not spare the energy for constant fights, weighed down as he was—combat as he was would drain him. The lightless depths were teeming with life and unlife, as the rents in his clothes attested. Spirit Herbs that undoubtedly would've glowed unnaturally if it were not for the miasma and Beasts well-adapted to the darkness made their home in the Abyss. Even the higher-level creatures wouldn't have been particularly threatening to Matthaias ordinarily, but these were certainly not ordinary circumstances—even the Legions' boot camps wouldn't have been this bad.
—that was a lie, but at least he knew they had a safety net and was doing it with friends, but still.
Qi burnt through his meridians to wield his aura, although it was more of a blind man's groping hand in his crippled state, not helped by the fact that he was still in Qi Condensation, despite all his supposed strength. The boiling cauldron of his stomach deepened as the additional use of spiritual energy provoked the delicate balance he was maintaining within himself, the Five-Elements Disharmony Curse roiling for use after so relatively long without use. Boiling Blood of Bronze, one of the researchers back at the Dawn Fortress had described his body as when he'd been assessed on joining the Golden Devil Clan after Iphigenia's death. They had talked a lot about internal alignments and karmic ties but the distilled version he knew from lived experience was that he drew in misfortune and his body had the ability to cleanse that which he consumed producing pure substances from what had gone in. It was simplest to describe it as being a Living Cauldron, except right now he wasn't exercising that nature as he normally did.
A cauldron could serve other uses than that of a purifying crucible and he had accepted tutelage under the Cursed Mushrooms to polish his skills in that area. What they had taught him used the body as a vessel that for lack of a better word, fermented a curse. Just like foodstuffs containing sugars could be treated to break down into spirits, so too could the malignancy of a curse be left to fester, curdling into a persistent rancor that possessed previously lacking tenacity and penetration. The problem that made Matthaias feel so vulnerable as he held himself ready at the entrance of his current nook was that this methodology was almost entirely at odds with his prior areas of strength. As a practitioner of the curse arts, he had focused on the refinement of grudges by accumulation and consumption and found spectacular success. During his very first Hundred-Year Trial, he had strained his abilities to the limit to survive that ordeal and had formed his own Five-Elements Disharmony Curse within his dantian from the sheer amount of curses he consumed, although the qualia used by the Fifth Sea hunters certainly added a special weight to it. If they be the righteous hunters, and he the villainous devil, then oughtn't the devil be able to turn the tables with curses of all things? The malediction bolstered his physical abilities to heights beyond few others in Qi Condensation, and let him ravage the flesh of his foes with the lightest of touches as well as expanded his powers of curse consumption.
After no attack came, Matthaias relaxed slightly, his "gaze" sweeping over the tunnels as he rubbed his hand over his trachea where it felt like his gorge was rising. He hated feeling like this as though he were a weak cultivator not even past the second bottleneck rather than at the 12th Heavenstage. To master the training the Cursed Mushrooms had given him, he had to take into himself a minor curse and grow it without consuming it, battling against his instincts born from decades of survival. This trial forced him to go against his training, his strengths, and his own very body—which, he supposed, was the very point. Nevertheless—
"I feel so weak," he muttered, feeling his limbs tremble from that minor exertion of alertness. "Fuck, I thought I'd never have to feel like this ever again after Qiguai, even those damn Chickens didn't hurt so badly." As the curse he was keeping nestled within him grew, it felt like his very body was being weighed down progressively, sickened and poisoned. A relentless pressure that sapped his strength and will. As if that wasn't bad enough, suppressing the Five-Elements Disharmony Curse wasn't like turning off a switch but rather akin to keeping a barely tamed beast in check. It constantly tested the limits of his control and pushed at boundaries when his will was weakened. Losing his grip on it for the slightest moment allowed it to reach out and try to consume the lingering death he was currently cultivating, creating a reflection in his body like very painful acid reflux. If it wasn't for his previous experiences, he very well would have collapsed and given in. But you don't survive being a legionnaire, much less being a veteran of the Blood Battle Cannibals' predations by being weak of will. Feast upon leather and drink poison like it's wine, that's what it meant to be a Golden Devil, after all.
Despite nothing coming of his earlier alarm, Matthaias was quickly on his way after a few minutes. Traveling through the Light-Killing Abyss was a hauntingly stressful experience. He moved slowly, feeling for his way with his walking stick with every step. It had taken him the first couple of days to learn the relaxed alertness that conserved his energy by relying on his passive perception, keeping his aura tight around him to warn him of any close surprises. This trial was an excellent tempering experience for the lessons the Cursed Mushrooms had imparted to him, for all that it was a damned pain in the ass. The loss of his primary mortal sense, the rigorous focus needed to maintain the brewing curse, the general atmosphere of the Abyss, the persistent threat of that kept his nerves taut; these and more were excellent whetstones to sharpen his will against. It didn't hurt that the curse he carried was a useful container for the dark feelings in his heart from this damned journey, guzzling on the river of his spirit and growing fat on the abundance of curdled ill feeling he sent its way. A literal hate sink, he mused. He'd have to look into it more, once he actually got out of this fucking place.
By this time during his exploration of the warren of caves, Matthaias was confident that he'd identified the exit he was supposed to take to leave. Scouting it out previously had detected the presence of several patrolling Spirit Beast insects that he'd been ill-inclined to face off against in his condition at the time. But after checking all other routes, he had determined that there were no other means of bypassing the encounter and refreshing himself as much as he could, he was ready. And he was ready, because if he wasn't, he'd be dead, and he had too many debts to pay to simply die in a backwater where they peaked at Foundation Establishment, of all things.
Tap-tap-tap. He advanced in the impenetrable gloom. As he approached, he could hear the distinctive chittering of the insectoid creatures who were the most aggressive denizens of the dark. He'd not yet identified what exactly they were but running his hands over the corpses of those he'd defeated painted a picture of a segmented armored creature somewhat like a tailless scorpion with giant crushing limbs, serrated all along, and the ability to spray a noxious cloud of caustic poison. Most specimens had only come up to his knees but there had been a few terrifying encounters with larger versions. The fight ahead was not one he was looking forward to because there had been all indication that one of the rare large insects was in his way with two or three smaller others, and remembering his experiences with Lady Destasia's insane scorpion cavalry, this would be an absolute pain in his neck.
Getting as close as he dared, Matthaias set down his pack at a safe distance and waited on the edge of the insects' territory, tensed for his inevitable discovery. When it came, the shrieks of the beasts shifted to a piercing screech as they plunged towards him. Through his feet, he could feel the faint reverberations of their approach on the rocky ground of the caverns. Matthaias knew that he could easily clear out this nest if he took up the strength of the Five-Elements Disharmony Curse but that would come at the cost of it consuming the curse he'd painstakingly nurtured. He'd be damned if he spent all that time and leave with nothing to show from a trial meant for literal children, scaling be damned. No, the trial had given him all the tools he needed to secure victory in this encounter.
Closing his useless eyes, Matthaias smiled grimly as he detected the approach of two spirit beasts, one driving straight for him while the other circled around to come at him from the side. The cursed atmosphere of the Light-Killing Abyss was odd in that as he grew accustomed to its presence, it sort of faded into the background. Always present but other impressions came through quite clearly. The flanking beast was quite stealthy, but after so long straining for any hint of warning for attack he'd become extraordinarily sensitive to ill will directed at him, and the beasts, both of them, had a lot of that. It was rather curious that they were so open, considering how anything in here ought to be extraordinarily sensitive, and he wasn't arrogant enough to think he was "just that good," but—and here we go.
The first insect came into range, opening with a blast of noxious poison. Matthaias knew from prior experience that while contact with the vitriolic substance was survivable, it was a foolish risk to take it head on, especially in a fight so he moved The barest edges of the expelled cloud brushed him, stinging his skin and then the beast was on him. Knee high, it launched a flurry of bone-shattering bones. But the trick to not getting hurt was to simply not be there, and so a lethal dance began. Matthaias bounced around the attacks, claws a hair's breadth away, and in return he landed blows on it with his qi-reinforced staff to survive the impacts of the limbs. The second beast waited eagerly for him to become engaged with his first opponent before attacking itself. Rather than poison, the miserable excuse of a creature struck at his knees with both limbs when he was in an awkward position dodging the first. With a twist of his body he squeezed between the two, like the meat in a badly made sandwich.
With its advantage of its so-called surprise gone, the second beast fell back on the classics, yet another bloody poison spray. Matthaias almost swore, as the attack caught much of his left side, the acid stinging across the exposed skin on his hands, the need to kill as much noise as he could, even in combat, overcoming everything else. He'd covered up tightly everywhere else in preparation but the need for a firm grip left his hands lightly protected. Hearing the beast chitter loudly in what he presumed was frustration at his continued survival, Matthaias remained silent but grinned—he absolutely was not going to die here.
The two beasts as though seeing his smug aura chittered louder in response and stalked closer, slower than before. When they stopped for a brief moment and screamed loudly, likely in some attempt to stun him Matthaias triggered the art he'd kept ready. The Brief Winged Dash Art was a transformation movement art that allowed one to dash quickly by gaining powerful wings for a moment. This time he used the technique to move himself vertically, rising high into the air and leaping over the form of a larger insect that had struck as silent as a ghost from behind him. Caught in a charge without a means of quickly stopping, the larger beast bowled into the forms of its two smaller compatriots, knocking all three to the ground. Matthaias seized upon the opportunity and struck downwards like a crashing meteor, staff leading his fall like a spear.
Wham-crunch, he struck with a heavy impact, briefly immobilizing the beasts for a moment, and a moment was all that he needed. In an instant, the curse gestating within him rushed forth, finally free of constraints. From beneath the cloth wrapping around his face, an unseen haze passed out of him through the matter of the mask unhindered in the slightest. The writhing pile beneath him struggled fitfully as he breathed out the carefully seeded and tended malaise he'd fermented throughout his journey. His staff had punched through the larger beast, pinning it in place and trapping the smaller forms below. The rudoing jing zhong, the creeping, still, weight found easy purchase on his opponents, sinking into them quickly, gravity doing its work. The movements of the beasts slowed and stilled, but he still sensed life within their bodies. It would be better for him to wait until they died, but honestly at this point, he wanted to be out. He twisted the staff, and stomped hard. Crunch went the bugs, and he finally stepped away with a sigh of relief.
Matthaias walked over to the flattened heap and extricated his staff, flicking it to the side hard to get the worst off of it, and finished the work with a leftover rag. He passed through the territory of the now-dead insects swiftly, scurrying forms of the lesser beasts fleeing from his wake. It would appear that his victory had placed him firmly at the top of whatever threat ranking the beasts hereabouts used. Good, because he really wasn't up to another engagement. His time in the depths had sapped his already weakened reserves and he'd only won that battle by stacking almost every card in his deck. If the larger beast had declined to intervene in the fight with the two lesser beasts, he'd have had to get creative, and he absolutely did not want to rank dealing with a trial for children as one of the top five most difficult fights he'd had been.
It was a very worn out Matthaias who was escorted into the Cursed Mushroom chief's quarters. He'd insisted on being led straight from the exit of the Abyss by the guards posted there to see the chief so he was little in the mood for niceties as his eyes stung, recovering after more than a week of disuse. He ignored the strange figure sitting with the chief – some sort of plant person – and planted himself in front of the current head of the Cursed Mushroom people, somehow still forcing himself to sit up, rather than slouching from exhaustion.
"Chief Kuro, I thank you for your tutelage—it's advanced my understanding of things I've left unlearned for far too long by leaps and bounds. However, I dearly hope that you do not forget to mention important details like the scaling of a trial to all your guests. Now if you would pardon me, I find myself in desperate need of succor, and I feel like I would be of little use to you now, Matthaias said bluntly before bowing as shallow as possible while still being polite, leaving as quickly as he'd come. Behind him, apologetic guards poked their head into the chief's quarters to explain why they'd let in the rude interloper, before the Chief waved them off with a grin.
***
Auspicious Nine found Matthaias hungrily wolfing down a meal in a nearby canteen. The squat Cursed Mushroom matron in charge of the kitchens looked rather bemused at the Legionnaire currently speeding his way through a meal fit for a whole mortal family. She seemed to take it as a challenge to find out Matthaias' limits, quickly carrying over more food whenever the man cleared his plate and lifted up the empty dish imploringly. Nine sidled over to the bench where Matthaias sat and slid close to him ignoring the glare from the matron.
"Greetings, Matthaias Outi, I hear it is? My name is Auspicious Nine. I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, Anastasia Outi." Nine introduced himself.
Speaking through swallows of food, Matthaias replied curtly, any grasp of manners finally having escaped him. "Anastasia? It's good to hear that's she's still alive enough to send me more work, but you're getting in the way of my meal. I don't care enough about you nor know enough about you, and you've already wasted fifteen seconds of my mealtime. Go away."
Utterly unperturbed by the dismissal, Nine retained his seat and casually ordered his own meal from the matron. Fixing him with a beady-eyed look, the matron brought over Nine's meal, breaking off her stare only when Matthaias requested for a refill. Nine leisurely consumed his meal, enjoying the uniqueness of the Cursed Mushroom menu. Wriggling grubs, crispy fried insects and arthropods, and of course, the ever present mushrooms made for a nice taste of pace from the fare he'd been having in Pleuron.
"Matron Mussel is truly a remarkable cook, don't you say? Her meals are always a delight to take in." Nine commented.
Matthaias gave him a side-eyed look, knowing exactly where this was going, but remained focused on his task of satisfying his hunger. Nine kept up a running one-sided conversation managing to wind his way through a plethora of topics from the juiciest insect grubs to the question of who were the best swordsmiths in the region. When Matthaias finally satisfied his hunger, he set down his plate to join a stack taller than Matron Mussel, and then slapped down a bag of unidentifiable things as payment—although considering it went squish rather than thunk, it was pretty clearly not spirit stones or gold. The matron gave Matthaias a bright smile of appreciation at a customer who enjoyed her handiwork and carted off the evidence of Matthaias' accomplishment. Turning to Auspicious Nine, he interrupted the other cultivator in the midst of a lecture on the life cycle of Scarlet Pigweed.
"Alright, I'm finished eating, and you're persistent enough, so I'm willing to hear you out. Why the Hells did Ana send you to me? You've got… five minutes, because I really want to go to sleep right now" Matthaias asked, face leaning on a curled fist.
Auspicious Nine replied, "I am on a research trip to the Cursed Mushroom clan to study them. They are a curious people, closer to ordinary cultivators than awakened Spirit Herbs or Spirit Beasts despite their clear non-human heritage. In fact they have been known to enroll with the Legions, accepting an infusion of the Blood of Bronze without reported ill effect. As might be obvious from my appearance, I am likewise of non-standard heritage so I am seeking out any similarities that may exist within the Cursed Mushrooms to myself."
"That's nice and all but what does that have to do with me?," Matthais interrupted, patience thinning as exhaustion encroached on him. "I'm not a Cursed Mushroom or in any way related to a plant, so I'm not exactly sure why you're here. Ana knows better than to waste my time by now.."
"Ah, but you possess the physique to qualify as a Living Cauldron or am I wrong? Chief Kuro made mention of that after you burst into his quarters when I was with him." Auspicious Nine asked.
Matthaias quirked an eyebrow as he replied. "So he feels free to make mention of my own—well, I suppose it's not a secret, at this point. What's that to you? Do you have a curse that needs resolving? I can do that after I take a nap, since I can tell you're not afflicted by anything lethal."
"Not quite that," Auspicious Nine laughed, "No, I actually want you to help me firm up my body so that I can better employ internal alchemy. I've already made some initial forays into the discipline but the texts on the necessary body cultivation make it clear that securing my foundation would give the best long-term results. Chief Kuro described you as quite accomplished in that area."
"Hmm," Matthaias considered, "What exactly have you worked with in internal alchemy? I'd rather make sure you're not going to be wasting my time, if it's all the same to you."
Auspicious Nine proudly declared. "I have been successful in completing a brew using the Grudge Vessel of Gu. Are you familiar with that method?"
Matthaias looked at Nine in renewed consideration. "Yeah, I am, that's a pretty difficult and dangerous technique. I did it on the fly when I was younger, and it was a pretty tight balance to maintain without exploding into bloody chunks, although I guess it would be splinters for someone like you. I'm pretty curious on how you swung it, because I only got such a critical mass through a Trial."
"I am an accomplished scholar," Nine said as though saying that the sun is hot, "It was a challenge but well within my means. I am now eager to expand my capabilities which I am willing to pay you to assist me in doing."
"Oh, payment, huh? Sure, I'll teach you what I know about tempering your body into a suitable body for internal alchemy, but I can't promise that what worked for me will do the exact same for you. This type of body cultivation is pretty notorious for having varying effectiveness depending on personal idiosyncrasies and heritage, and I only really got the hang of it after chewing on a mountain's worth of rocks. However, I have a rough process that works using the Bronze Blood which is common to both of us so we should be fine, and I suppose it's the job of the teacher to make sure the student doesn't have to suffer through the exact same thing they did" Matthaias replied, and took a few moments to consider the idea. He decided to accept, because he'd probably have to deal with this sapling chattering away while he slept if he didn't get things done, so, here went nothing. "I give no guarantees, though, because despite the efforts of a few friends, I'm not an accomplished scholar myself."
Undeterred, Auspicious Nine stretched out his arm and asked, "When do we begin?"
Shaking Nine's hand to shake on it, Matthaias replied, "As soon as we settle the matter of my price."
A swift haggling ensued which left neither party fully satisfied, a hallmark of a good compromise. Matthaias got access to certain valuable reagents Nine reluctantly parted with in exchange to a fee in Contribution Points, half paid immediately and the other half to be paid if his intrepid student survived. True to his word, if nothing else, Matthaias begun immediately after they had agreed on payment, leading Nine to a secluded area outside the caverns where the Cursed Mushrooms resided.
"So I'm going to take a page out of the methods the Cursed Mushrooms use and start you of with a test they had me undergo when I sought tuition from them," Matthaias said as he handed Auspicious Nine a vial of gray green powder, "Before we work on strengthening your internal system, we need to improve your awareness of your body. This vial contains specially made Boo Dust. It will cause the usual psychoactive reaction but once you get past the initial disorientation it will heighten your spiritual awareness of what's going on within your body. Do you have any questions?"
"Not at this moment," Auspicious Nine replied, "How much do I take?"
"A pinch on your tongue should do it. We'll adjust the dosage from what you report under the effects." Matthaias replied, and then continued as he remembered something, "You might want to give me your saber. This stuff is pretty potent and you really don't want to risk it with a weapon within reach."
Nine blinked at the suggestion, "By virtue of being a cultivator, my whole body is a weapon."
Matthaias nodded and pointed his thumb behind him. "Yeah, I know, but I don't think you want to stab yourself. The only one that's really in danger is you—I'll be hanging out over in the corner over there for extra safety, but I'm not fast enough to keep you from killing yourself if you're swinging around a sword rather than just thrashing around. Dealing with any extra surprises you have in just your body'll be more of a pain than I'm willing to suffer through."
Auspicious Nine decided to follow his paid tutor's advice and divested himself of his blade. A quick ping of the Boo Dust was placed on Nine's tongue after which Matthaias took back the vial and settled himself on a boulder he'd marked out as far enough to avoid the incoming fireworks.
From his seat he heard Auspicious Nine shout at him, "Are you sure you got proper Boo Dust. It doesn't seem to be working."
"It sure is." Matthaias said as he watched his erstwhile student shout in the opposite direction from where he was actually seated. If everything worked out as planned, they'd be able to quickly move past the Sense Awakening stages and get to the actual tempering exercises quickly enough, and then he'd actually finally get to go the fuck to sleep. He'd managed to wrangle a nice concession out of Chief Kuro for failing to be transparently clear about exactly what his trial experienced. As he watched a completely out of his mind treeman trying to serenade a heap of stones, Matthaias wondered if Auspicious Nine would be regretting trying for body cultivation after this session or when he had to ingest a Four Devils Screaming potion as a foundation building recipe. He'd pretty comfortably bet on the latter before anything else, uncomfortably remembering the burn of the portion on its way out, and if anything it'd be worse for a treeman. Sighing, he began cycling again, the massive meal he had beforehand providing ample fuel to work out anything that may have gone awry in his surprise weeklong trip. At least he had a good show.
A/N: Big credit to @Insane-Not-Crazy for writing most of this monster of an omake as well as their patience--I honestly just did a bit of editing after procrastinating a ton. Hopefully I'll get a bit more of a balanced workload later on--but there's only so much you can do after coming home from finals to forty-hour workweeks from your "part time job" while on break, haha. Time to collapse--oh wait no shit I've got more work to do--
Six Degrees of Separation / The Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad, Week
Cursed Mushrooms. The curious breed of sentient humanoid mushrooms grew in the depths of dark caverns north of Waycastles Pleuron and Acrocorinth. They were born as fungi sprouting from spores to consume qi and awaken to spiritual wisdom, growing to the average height of human children at four to five feet tall. By their very nature they were one and all cultivators, although their strongest peaked at Foundation Establishment. The legends the quirky little folk told about their history traced their origin to the efforts of a Nascent Soul cultivator named Shiitake who had set out to create powerful cultivation aids and managed to become the progenitor of a new species. Mythical retelling narrated how the original Cursed Mushrooms had taken Shiitake as their lord, serving him faithfully until his disappearance whereupon the Gao clan who had been warded off by his presence began persecuting the Mushrooms. The final straw came when a fearsome foe, remembered only as the Red One, rampaged through the homes of the Cursed Mushrooms forcing them to abandon their territory and flee for safety. Somehow they had made their way into the territory claimed by the Golden Devil Clan and parlayed their masterful skill with curses into an exchange of services for protection.
Auspicious Nine had only heard about the rare trader from the Cursed Mushrooms in Pleuron before he had left. The promise of the Legions had been the access they would give him to the full breadth of Clan territories but he'd been tempted by the idea of setting out on his own as a wandering cultivator to go where interest and resources led him. One of the first areas he'd considered visiting were the Cursed Mushroom lands. Now as a member of the 1313th Legion, Nine felt that he had a decent compromise of the two options of his youth: the backing of the Legions and a wide latitude of independence in his plans. He was returned now to a changed city and was eager to make up for previously missed opportunities.
Nine left the Pleuron manor fleeing the grasp of his sisters, Three and Seven trying to draw him into a spa day. The treeman shuddered at the thought of the last time he'd foolishly accepted their invitation. He appreciated self-care as much as anyone – fondly remembering his patronage of Feng Theros' Warm Baths and Sauna – but the hellish torment those two came up with was more likely to give nightmares than relaxation. He would be much better served using the time for more gainful pursuits and one such opportunity had just come to his attention. Trader Clam of the Cursed Mushrooms was in town and Nine was much minded to pay him a visit.
On his way towards the market plaza where Clam was reported to have set up shop, Nine took a more circuitous route than was necessary. People watching was always a fascinating avenue for social research. Pleuron had always been a city where Golden Devils dominated but presently, there was a heightened background showing of patriotism. A lot of traditional clothes and styling was on display, even the odd toga in the wild. The Clan's colors were very much in evidence in fabric choice and the number of flags bearing the heraldry of the thorny black spear on gold cloth had increased since the last week. Legionnaires from the official final clash of the Jingshen war in the Underworld Spirit Palace had carried back with them the story of the Archegetes' proclamation of victory in the sky and it was fast becoming a popular image to reference the Clan's rising strength. The greatest change was simply the number of serving legionnaires visible on the streets of Pleuron. The Protostrator was organizing a muster to send the Legions to reinforce the beleaguered Righteous powers of the Great Battlefield and Pleuron sat right on the Scorpion Road's path to the Colossus Footsteps Pass.
Nine winced in remembered pain at the cost of just accessing the Elder of War's missive but it had been worth it to be able to take up the mission to plumb the depths of the former Jingshen final redoubt. The idea of joining the detachment going to support the Poison-Crushing Siege had warred with delving into the depths of the Underworld Spirit Palace within him. On one hand he had the opportunity to observe firsthand the Insidious Poison Maze, a living archive of knowledge compiled by the most dedicated researchers of the entire region and one that was manifested as the epitome of verdant growth. On the other hand, he'd already had a taste of the possibilities in the hoarded vaults of the Jingshen at the close of the war and the Protostrator's mission offered the chance to quest as deep as any within their greatest storehouse. In the end, it was down to the fact that the conversion of the vast spirit stone mine into the Underworld Devil Palace, a secondary hub for the Clan, meant that he would have an easier time transferring and maintaining his more permanent research than marching across the Plains to set up shop under a host power.
Passing by the many young juniors flooding the streets, he wished them the best of luck in not dying as he'd found a number of intriguing research subjects among them who he'd love to follow up on. At this time of early afternoon, he was moving with the crowd towards the markets so he was able to reach his destination fairly quickly.
The Autumn Plaza was one of four large spaces in Pleuron named after the four seasons, littered with shopfronts and stalls as traders and customers made brisk business. Nine eyed appreciatively the increased health and growth of the vegetation planted in the plaza. His alterations to the city-spirit's domain were improving the strength of the land as intended and the effect still had some ways to go before the optimized qi flows plateaued.
He cut through the bustle to arrive at a quaint little booth which aset out a variety of dried mushrooms, small talismans and other odds and ends. Manning this business was a squat figure smoking a long pipe, features cast in shade by the large cap that crowned his head. The Cursed Mushroom trader resembled a Lingzhi blown up to humanoid proportions. The features matched the descriptions Nine had been given so he bowed in greeting to the Mushroom. "Greetings, trader Clam. I hope this afternoon finds you in good health."
Clam took a deep pull on his pipe and held it for a long moment as he looked up to study Auspicious Nine. Apparently satisfied with what he found, Clam released the held breath in a puff of black smoke and replied in an unexpectedly gravelly voice, "Greetings to you too and I suppose I'm as well as can be this afternoon. How may I help a seed of the honored savior Jin Muyi?"
Auspicious Nine paused considering Clam's words. "My name is Auspicious Nine," he said, "I suppose that my heritage is immediately obvious. I was hoping to peruse your wares and discuss a few matters about your people. I hope that won't be a bother?"
Clam waved at the set out items on display lazily, puffing on his pipe. "Have at it. I promise I'll listen to your questions but not that you'll get an answer you like or any at all."
Nine moved closer to the booth, looking through the items on offer. As one would expect, the bulk of the goods on sale were mushrooms, mushrooms of all kinds; toadstool, lingzhi, golden needle and more. Wile there were mundane specimens among the lot, most were fit to be considered Lowly Spirit Herbs, useful for alchemy, spirit cuisine or as cultivation aids. Nine picked out several interesting and rare specimens he wanted for his experiments, Clam taking his orders with grunts in reply. Moving on from the mushrooms, Auspicious Nine examined the talismans set to the side. They were simple affairs of stone and wood, carved into odd shapes.
From his counter packing Nine's selected mushrooms, Clam looked over and commented, "Those there made like prayer beads are Cure-Repelling Wards. Good in a pinch if you are caught unprepared but they are fairly weak so don't be relying on them to protect you for too long. The bundled up sort are Debilitating Afflictions. They're really minor annoyances that won't do much against anything beyond the first great realm but they can be a nasty surprise for those not expecting them. Nothing like shitting their pants to disrupt an opponent's focus when you need it."
"I think I'll have a few then," Nine said intrigued, picking up several of both items identified as well as a few other items of interest. The Afflictions came in a wide variety, causing all manner of discomfort from tinnitus to genital itching. Idle thoughts of revenge drifted through Nine's mind, memories of a certain raccoon-eyed expert bubbling to the surface as he rolled the smooth black stone of a Luck Twisting charm in his hands. This should help him match certain treacherous Experts taking advantage of a naive new peer.
Satisfied with his haul, Nine joined Clam at the nearby counter where the Cursed Mushroom trader stood on a stool totaling up Nine's expenses. Handing over the money was pleasantly not painful, largely because it wasn't from his personal funds but an allowance he'd wheedled out of Athena. There were perks to being home and part of the governing family of the city.
"So do you actually have questions for me or was it just empty talk?" Clam said as he handed over the sack containing Nine's purchases.
"Ah well, I thought it best to get my official business done with, before I took up your time," Nine said following after Clam as he returned to his seat in front of his booth.
When the other cultivator was settled into his seat, Nine continued, "First of all, why do you call Jin Muyi the honored savior? Did he perform some great service for your people?"
Clam shifted in his seat feeling for the most comfortable position before replying, "It must be about a century now when they came to our lands. This was your progenitor, Jin Muyi together with Ferenike of the Indomitable Thirteen. Exactly why they'd sought us ought I do not know but they heresy of the Devourer Cult and purged their nest, rescuing those who the cannibals had taken for their sacrifices. I was one of those they saved, just a young shroomling at the time."
"I don't think we've heard about this Devourer Cult?" Auspicious Nine mused.
"You know of Lord Shiitake?" Clam asked to which Nine nodded in assent, "Well those lunatics think that if our ancestors had insisted on being consumed by him, our creator would have remained to protect us in our ancestral lands. To them all shrooms that do not worship him in the aspect of the Devourer are heretics and can be turned into feed and consumed. In their thinking the Qi of those consumed will enhance a chosen one so that they can better grow for Lord Shiitake to prompt his return. Utter madness as you can imagine."
"I have heard of your people's veneration of Lord Shitake. Were these the only beliefs deemed heretical in your faith?" Nine asked.
Clam sighed and said, "If we're going to be talking worship then you might as well pull out the stool from behind the counter. This is going to be a long conversation."
Nine obliged him and the two talked throughout the day and into the night. The treeman seeker of knowledge was eager to pump Clam for every piece of information he could from the nature of Cursed Mushroom society to their life cycle and more. Nine's interrogation of Clam was relentless, continuing around interruptions for the trader to attend to customers and eat. When finally night had fallen and Clam was closing up for the day, Nine finally put a pause to his questioning.
"Sheesh, you sure got a dire thirst for answers there, lad," Clam growled, "I feel like I've been wrung out and life sucked out of me."
"What can I say?" Nine flashed a smile, "The quest for knowledge has captured me and I could hardly waste this opportunity to get firsthand access."
"Hmm," Clam thought and then spoke up, "If you are that interested in learning about the Cursed Mushroom people, why don't you come with me when I return home? I'm just about done here and Pleuron was the last stop in my circuit before I head back. You can't do better than visiting in person to get answers to all your questions. I'd put in a word with the elders to grease the wheels for you. So what do you say?
Auspicious Nine didn't have to think about it. "Give me a time and a place and I'll be waiting for you."
Clam was true to his word and weeks later, Auspicious Nine found himself at the entrance to the labyrinth of caverns that the Curse Mushrooms called home. Eagerly he went forth into the dark and damp, chasing after knowledge.
***
Matthaias Outi sat in the dark catching his breath, his entire body feeling like a leaden weight. With practiced familiarity his hands found their way into his travel pack pulling out carefully packed rations. Careful bites of dried scorpion and spiced lamb jerky were taken, washed down with some… enhanced water from a flask. After a certain point in cultivation, one could go without eating and drinking, but just because one could didn't mean they should, and after all those years he absolutely was not going to pass up a chance to eat while he could before he suddenly very much could not. Unfortunately, for all that the taste of his very expensive rations were good, another sense was robbed in return—he was without conventional sight, everything around him swallowed by complete darkness. This was no natural shadow he found himself in but an oppressive umbral shroud consumed that even the slightest bit of light. With more unconventional senses, it was as though he was embraced by a thick fog of anti-light, although sound and smell were still there, thankfully. After Qiguai, this much didn't actually do more than irritate him, but the rather malicious Will saturating the air around him did its job of snuffing out light and warmth very well. It knew him in some crude way and matched his efforts to oppose it, so much so that he chose to focus on his other senses rather than wasting more energy. An almost mocking intent caressed him as his efforts to grasp it, much less his initial attempts to consume it, finally ceased. The curse of the Light-Killing Abyss was firmly beyond his reach, and as such, by the reckoning of the timepiece he'd carried with him, this was the ninth day he'd been traversing this so-called trial.
Sighing as he was forced to get back up after a few stolen minutes of rest, he permitted himself the luxury of muttering under his breath in irritation. "What was this Chief even thinking? I ask for a good starting point to get better at using cursed technique and he talks to me about a trial for young Cursed Mushrooms—did he even remember or care to tell me that the trial scales to the challenger and that the Mushrooms haven't sent in anyone above 9th Heavenstage in centuries? No, of course he doesn't! Nobody remembers the important things when I ask them! So now I'm bloody late—I should've been out of here—" and then he abruptly fell silent, hearing some scurrying nearby. Well-deserved venting aside, misery did not want for company around here.
He clenched the sturdy shaft of the walking stick that had served him so well—he'd have to investigate this wood, at least, it would be a nice spare spear haft—he'd get something out of this side trip. His useless sight already cast aside, he cocked his ears, listening carefully and straining his spiritual senses to search for telltale shifts in the fog of the shadowy curse. His rest area was a shallow curve in the wall of the cavern, a small recess where he could secure the entrance while taking his break. It was dangerous to stay within in an area with just one exit but he'd needed a moment's reprieve from constantly surveying around him for danger, but after some time here he realized that all the creatures were bizarrely… loud, and thus rather easily sensed. Which was pretty good for him, because he e could not spare the energy for constant fights, weighed down as he was—combat as he was would drain him. The lightless depths were teeming with life and unlife, as the rents in his clothes attested. Spirit Herbs that undoubtedly would've glowed unnaturally if it were not for the miasma and Beasts well-adapted to the darkness made their home in the Abyss. Even the higher-level creatures wouldn't have been particularly threatening to Matthaias ordinarily, but these were certainly not ordinary circumstances—even the Legions' boot camps wouldn't have been this bad.
—that was a lie, but at least he knew they had a safety net and was doing it with friends, but still.
Qi burnt through his meridians to wield his aura, although it was more of a blind man's groping hand in his crippled state, not helped by the fact that he was still in Qi Condensation, despite all his supposed strength. The boiling cauldron of his stomach deepened as the additional use of spiritual energy provoked the delicate balance he was maintaining within himself, the Five-Elements Disharmony Curse roiling for use after so relatively long without use. Boiling Blood of Bronze, one of the researchers back at the Dawn Fortress had described his body as when he'd been assessed on joining the Golden Devil Clan after Iphigenia's death. They had talked a lot about internal alignments and karmic ties but the distilled version he knew from lived experience was that he drew in misfortune and his body had the ability to cleanse that which he consumed producing pure substances from what had gone in. It was simplest to describe it as being a Living Cauldron, except right now he wasn't exercising that nature as he normally did.
A cauldron could serve other uses than that of a purifying crucible and he had accepted tutelage under the Cursed Mushrooms to polish his skills in that area. What they had taught him used the body as a vessel that for lack of a better word, fermented a curse. Just like foodstuffs containing sugars could be treated to break down into spirits, so too could the malignancy of a curse be left to fester, curdling into a persistent rancor that possessed previously lacking tenacity and penetration. The problem that made Matthaias feel so vulnerable as he held himself ready at the entrance of his current nook was that this methodology was almost entirely at odds with his prior areas of strength. As a practitioner of the curse arts, he had focused on the refinement of grudges by accumulation and consumption and found spectacular success. During his very first Hundred-Year Trial, he had strained his abilities to the limit to survive that ordeal and had formed his own Five-Elements Disharmony Curse within his dantian from the sheer amount of curses he consumed, although the qualia used by the Fifth Sea hunters certainly added a special weight to it. If they be the righteous hunters, and he the villainous devil, then oughtn't the devil be able to turn the tables with curses of all things? The malediction bolstered his physical abilities to heights beyond few others in Qi Condensation, and let him ravage the flesh of his foes with the lightest of touches as well as expanded his powers of curse consumption.
After no attack came, Matthaias relaxed slightly, his "gaze" sweeping over the tunnels as he rubbed his hand over his trachea where it felt like his gorge was rising. He hated feeling like this as though he were a weak cultivator not even past the second bottleneck rather than at the 12th Heavenstage. To master the training the Cursed Mushrooms had given him, he had to take into himself a minor curse and grow it without consuming it, battling against his instincts born from decades of survival. This trial forced him to go against his training, his strengths, and his own very body—which, he supposed, was the very point. Nevertheless—
"I feel so weak," he muttered, feeling his limbs tremble from that minor exertion of alertness. "Fuck, I thought I'd never have to feel like this ever again after Qiguai, even those damn Chickens didn't hurt so badly." As the curse he was keeping nestled within him grew, it felt like his very body was being weighed down progressively, sickened and poisoned. A relentless pressure that sapped his strength and will. As if that wasn't bad enough, suppressing the Five-Elements Disharmony Curse wasn't like turning off a switch but rather akin to keeping a barely tamed beast in check. It constantly tested the limits of his control and pushed at boundaries when his will was weakened. Losing his grip on it for the slightest moment allowed it to reach out and try to consume the lingering death he was currently cultivating, creating a reflection in his body like very painful acid reflux. If it wasn't for his previous experiences, he very well would have collapsed and given in. But you don't survive being a legionnaire, much less being a veteran of the Blood Battle Cannibals' predations by being weak of will. Feast upon leather and drink poison like it's wine, that's what it meant to be a Golden Devil, after all.
Despite nothing coming of his earlier alarm, Matthaias was quickly on his way after a few minutes. Traveling through the Light-Killing Abyss was a hauntingly stressful experience. He moved slowly, feeling for his way with his walking stick with every step. It had taken him the first couple of days to learn the relaxed alertness that conserved his energy by relying on his passive perception, keeping his aura tight around him to warn him of any close surprises. This trial was an excellent tempering experience for the lessons the Cursed Mushrooms had imparted to him, for all that it was a damned pain in the ass. The loss of his primary mortal sense, the rigorous focus needed to maintain the brewing curse, the general atmosphere of the Abyss, the persistent threat of that kept his nerves taut; these and more were excellent whetstones to sharpen his will against. It didn't hurt that the curse he carried was a useful container for the dark feelings in his heart from this damned journey, guzzling on the river of his spirit and growing fat on the abundance of curdled ill feeling he sent its way. A literal hate sink, he mused. He'd have to look into it more, once he actually got out of this fucking place.
By this time during his exploration of the warren of caves, Matthaias was confident that he'd identified the exit he was supposed to take to leave. Scouting it out previously had detected the presence of several patrolling Spirit Beast insects that he'd been ill-inclined to face off against in his condition at the time. But after checking all other routes, he had determined that there were no other means of bypassing the encounter and refreshing himself as much as he could, he was ready. And he was ready, because if he wasn't, he'd be dead, and he had too many debts to pay to simply die in a backwater where they peaked at Foundation Establishment, of all things.
Tap-tap-tap. He advanced in the impenetrable gloom. As he approached, he could hear the distinctive chittering of the insectoid creatures who were the most aggressive denizens of the dark. He'd not yet identified what exactly they were but running his hands over the corpses of those he'd defeated painted a picture of a segmented armored creature somewhat like a tailless scorpion with giant crushing limbs, serrated all along, and the ability to spray a noxious cloud of caustic poison. Most specimens had only come up to his knees but there had been a few terrifying encounters with larger versions. The fight ahead was not one he was looking forward to because there had been all indication that one of the rare large insects was in his way with two or three smaller others, and remembering his experiences with Lady Destasia's insane scorpion cavalry, this would be an absolute pain in his neck.
Getting as close as he dared, Matthaias set down his pack at a safe distance and waited on the edge of the insects' territory, tensed for his inevitable discovery. When it came, the shrieks of the beasts shifted to a piercing screech as they plunged towards him. Through his feet, he could feel the faint reverberations of their approach on the rocky ground of the caverns. Matthaias knew that he could easily clear out this nest if he took up the strength of the Five-Elements Disharmony Curse but that would come at the cost of it consuming the curse he'd painstakingly nurtured. He'd be damned if he spent all that time and leave with nothing to show from a trial meant for literal children, scaling be damned. No, the trial had given him all the tools he needed to secure victory in this encounter.
Closing his useless eyes, Matthaias smiled grimly as he detected the approach of two spirit beasts, one driving straight for him while the other circled around to come at him from the side. The cursed atmosphere of the Light-Killing Abyss was odd in that as he grew accustomed to its presence, it sort of faded into the background. Always present but other impressions came through quite clearly. The flanking beast was quite stealthy, but after so long straining for any hint of warning for attack he'd become extraordinarily sensitive to ill will directed at him, and the beasts, both of them, had a lot of that. It was rather curious that they were so open, considering how anything in here ought to be extraordinarily sensitive, and he wasn't arrogant enough to think he was "just that good," but—and here we go.
The first insect came into range, opening with a blast of noxious poison. Matthaias knew from prior experience that while contact with the vitriolic substance was survivable, it was a foolish risk to take it head on, especially in a fight so he moved The barest edges of the expelled cloud brushed him, stinging his skin and then the beast was on him. Knee high, it launched a flurry of bone-shattering bones. But the trick to not getting hurt was to simply not be there, and so a lethal dance began. Matthaias bounced around the attacks, claws a hair's breadth away, and in return he landed blows on it with his qi-reinforced staff to survive the impacts of the limbs. The second beast waited eagerly for him to become engaged with his first opponent before attacking itself. Rather than poison, the miserable excuse of a creature struck at his knees with both limbs when he was in an awkward position dodging the first. With a twist of his body he squeezed between the two, like the meat in a badly made sandwich.
With its advantage of its so-called surprise gone, the second beast fell back on the classics, yet another bloody poison spray. Matthaias almost swore, as the attack caught much of his left side, the acid stinging across the exposed skin on his hands, the need to kill as much noise as he could, even in combat, overcoming everything else. He'd covered up tightly everywhere else in preparation but the need for a firm grip left his hands lightly protected. Hearing the beast chitter loudly in what he presumed was frustration at his continued survival, Matthaias remained silent but grinned—he absolutely was not going to die here.
The two beasts as though seeing his smug aura chittered louder in response and stalked closer, slower than before. When they stopped for a brief moment and screamed loudly, likely in some attempt to stun him Matthaias triggered the art he'd kept ready. The Brief Winged Dash Art was a transformation movement art that allowed one to dash quickly by gaining powerful wings for a moment. This time he used the technique to move himself vertically, rising high into the air and leaping over the form of a larger insect that had struck as silent as a ghost from behind him. Caught in a charge without a means of quickly stopping, the larger beast bowled into the forms of its two smaller compatriots, knocking all three to the ground. Matthaias seized upon the opportunity and struck downwards like a crashing meteor, staff leading his fall like a spear.
Wham-crunch, he struck with a heavy impact, briefly immobilizing the beasts for a moment, and a moment was all that he needed. In an instant, the curse gestating within him rushed forth, finally free of constraints. From beneath the cloth wrapping around his face, an unseen haze passed out of him through the matter of the mask unhindered in the slightest. The writhing pile beneath him struggled fitfully as he breathed out the carefully seeded and tended malaise he'd fermented throughout his journey. His staff had punched through the larger beast, pinning it in place and trapping the smaller forms below. The rudoing jing zhong, the creeping, still, weight found easy purchase on his opponents, sinking into them quickly, gravity doing its work. The movements of the beasts slowed and stilled, but he still sensed life within their bodies. It would be better for him to wait until they died, but honestly at this point, he wanted to be out. He twisted the staff, and stomped hard. Crunch went the bugs, and he finally stepped away with a sigh of relief.
Matthaias walked over to the flattened heap and extricated his staff, flicking it to the side hard to get the worst off of it, and finished the work with a leftover rag. He passed through the territory of the now-dead insects swiftly, scurrying forms of the lesser beasts fleeing from his wake. It would appear that his victory had placed him firmly at the top of whatever threat ranking the beasts hereabouts used. Good, because he really wasn't up to another engagement. His time in the depths had sapped his already weakened reserves and he'd only won that battle by stacking almost every card in his deck. If the larger beast had declined to intervene in the fight with the two lesser beasts, he'd have had to get creative, and he absolutely did not want to rank dealing with a trial for children as one of the top five most difficult fights he'd had been.
It was a very worn out Matthaias who was escorted into the Cursed Mushroom chief's quarters. He'd insisted on being led straight from the exit of the Abyss by the guards posted there to see the chief so he was little in the mood for niceties as his eyes stung, recovering after more than a week of disuse. He ignored the strange figure sitting with the chief – some sort of plant person – and planted himself in front of the current head of the Cursed Mushroom people, somehow still forcing himself to sit up, rather than slouching from exhaustion.
"Chief Kuro, I thank you for your tutelage—it's advanced my understanding of things I've left unlearned for far too long by leaps and bounds. However, I dearly hope that you do not forget to mention important details like the scaling of a trial to all your guests. Now if you would pardon me, I find myself in desperate need of succor, and I feel like I would be of little use to you now, Matthaias said bluntly before bowing as shallow as possible while still being polite, leaving as quickly as he'd come. Behind him, apologetic guards poked their head into the chief's quarters to explain why they'd let in the rude interloper, before the Chief waved them off with a grin.
***
Auspicious Nine found Matthaias hungrily wolfing down a meal in a nearby canteen. The squat Cursed Mushroom matron in charge of the kitchens looked rather bemused at the Legionnaire currently speeding his way through a meal fit for a whole mortal family. She seemed to take it as a challenge to find out Matthaias' limits, quickly carrying over more food whenever the man cleared his plate and lifted up the empty dish imploringly. Nine sidled over to the bench where Matthaias sat and slid close to him ignoring the glare from the matron.
"Greetings, Matthaias Outi, I hear it is? My name is Auspicious Nine. I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, Anastasia Outi." Nine introduced himself.
Speaking through swallows of food, Matthaias replied curtly, any grasp of manners finally having escaped him. "Anastasia? It's good to hear that's she's still alive enough to send me more work, but you're getting in the way of my meal. I don't care enough about you nor know enough about you, and you've already wasted fifteen seconds of my mealtime. Go away."
Utterly unperturbed by the dismissal, Nine retained his seat and casually ordered his own meal from the matron. Fixing him with a beady-eyed look, the matron brought over Nine's meal, breaking off her stare only when Matthaias requested for a refill. Nine leisurely consumed his meal, enjoying the uniqueness of the Cursed Mushroom menu. Wriggling grubs, crispy fried insects and arthropods, and of course, the ever present mushrooms made for a nice taste of pace from the fare he'd been having in Pleuron.
"Matron Mussel is truly a remarkable cook, don't you say? Her meals are always a delight to take in." Nine commented.
Matthaias gave him a side-eyed look, knowing exactly where this was going, but remained focused on his task of satisfying his hunger. Nine kept up a running one-sided conversation managing to wind his way through a plethora of topics from the juiciest insect grubs to the question of who were the best swordsmiths in the region. When Matthaias finally satisfied his hunger, he set down his plate to join a stack taller than Matron Mussel, and then slapped down a bag of unidentifiable things as payment—although considering it went squish rather than thunk, it was pretty clearly not spirit stones or gold. The matron gave Matthaias a bright smile of appreciation at a customer who enjoyed her handiwork and carted off the evidence of Matthaias' accomplishment. Turning to Auspicious Nine, he interrupted the other cultivator in the midst of a lecture on the life cycle of Scarlet Pigweed.
"Alright, I'm finished eating, and you're persistent enough, so I'm willing to hear you out. Why the Hells did Ana send you to me? You've got… five minutes, because I really want to go to sleep right now" Matthaias asked, face leaning on a curled fist.
Auspicious Nine replied, "I am on a research trip to the Cursed Mushroom clan to study them. They are a curious people, closer to ordinary cultivators than awakened Spirit Herbs or Spirit Beasts despite their clear non-human heritage. In fact they have been known to enroll with the Legions, accepting an infusion of the Blood of Bronze without reported ill effect. As might be obvious from my appearance, I am likewise of non-standard heritage so I am seeking out any similarities that may exist within the Cursed Mushrooms to myself."
"That's nice and all but what does that have to do with me?," Matthais interrupted, patience thinning as exhaustion encroached on him. "I'm not a Cursed Mushroom or in any way related to a plant, so I'm not exactly sure why you're here. Ana knows better than to waste my time by now.."
"Ah, but you possess the physique to qualify as a Living Cauldron or am I wrong? Chief Kuro made mention of that after you burst into his quarters when I was with him." Auspicious Nine asked.
Matthaias quirked an eyebrow as he replied. "So he feels free to make mention of my own—well, I suppose it's not a secret, at this point. What's that to you? Do you have a curse that needs resolving? I can do that after I take a nap, since I can tell you're not afflicted by anything lethal."
"Not quite that," Auspicious Nine laughed, "No, I actually want you to help me firm up my body so that I can better employ internal alchemy. I've already made some initial forays into the discipline but the texts on the necessary body cultivation make it clear that securing my foundation would give the best long-term results. Chief Kuro described you as quite accomplished in that area."
"Hmm," Matthaias considered, "What exactly have you worked with in internal alchemy? I'd rather make sure you're not going to be wasting my time, if it's all the same to you."
Auspicious Nine proudly declared. "I have been successful in completing a brew using the Grudge Vessel of Gu. Are you familiar with that method?"
Matthaias looked at Nine in renewed consideration. "Yeah, I am, that's a pretty difficult and dangerous technique. I did it on the fly when I was younger, and it was a pretty tight balance to maintain without exploding into bloody chunks, although I guess it would be splinters for someone like you. I'm pretty curious on how you swung it, because I only got such a critical mass through a Trial."
"I am an accomplished scholar," Nine said as though saying that the sun is hot, "It was a challenge but well within my means. I am now eager to expand my capabilities which I am willing to pay you to assist me in doing."
"Oh, payment, huh? Sure, I'll teach you what I know about tempering your body into a suitable body for internal alchemy, but I can't promise that what worked for me will do the exact same for you. This type of body cultivation is pretty notorious for having varying effectiveness depending on personal idiosyncrasies and heritage, and I only really got the hang of it after chewing on a mountain's worth of rocks. However, I have a rough process that works using the Bronze Blood which is common to both of us so we should be fine, and I suppose it's the job of the teacher to make sure the student doesn't have to suffer through the exact same thing they did" Matthaias replied, and took a few moments to consider the idea. He decided to accept, because he'd probably have to deal with this sapling chattering away while he slept if he didn't get things done, so, here went nothing. "I give no guarantees, though, because despite the efforts of a few friends, I'm not an accomplished scholar myself."
Undeterred, Auspicious Nine stretched out his arm and asked, "When do we begin?"
Shaking Nine's hand to shake on it, Matthaias replied, "As soon as we settle the matter of my price."
A swift haggling ensued which left neither party fully satisfied, a hallmark of a good compromise. Matthaias got access to certain valuable reagents Nine reluctantly parted with in exchange to a fee in Contribution Points, half paid immediately and the other half to be paid if his intrepid student survived. True to his word, if nothing else, Matthaias begun immediately after they had agreed on payment, leading Nine to a secluded area outside the caverns where the Cursed Mushrooms resided.
"So I'm going to take a page out of the methods the Cursed Mushrooms use and start you of with a test they had me undergo when I sought tuition from them," Matthaias said as he handed Auspicious Nine a vial of gray green powder, "Before we work on strengthening your internal system, we need to improve your awareness of your body. This vial contains specially made Boo Dust. It will cause the usual psychoactive reaction but once you get past the initial disorientation it will heighten your spiritual awareness of what's going on within your body. Do you have any questions?"
"Not at this moment," Auspicious Nine replied, "How much do I take?"
"A pinch on your tongue should do it. We'll adjust the dosage from what you report under the effects." Matthaias replied, and then continued as he remembered something, "You might want to give me your saber. This stuff is pretty potent and you really don't want to risk it with a weapon within reach."
Nine blinked at the suggestion, "By virtue of being a cultivator, my whole body is a weapon."
Matthaias nodded and pointed his thumb behind him. "Yeah, I know, but I don't think you want to stab yourself. The only one that's really in danger is you—I'll be hanging out over in the corner over there for extra safety, but I'm not fast enough to keep you from killing yourself if you're swinging around a sword rather than just thrashing around. Dealing with any extra surprises you have in just your body'll be more of a pain than I'm willing to suffer through."
Auspicious Nine decided to follow his paid tutor's advice and divested himself of his blade. A quick ping of the Boo Dust was placed on Nine's tongue after which Matthaias took back the vial and settled himself on a boulder he'd marked out as far enough to avoid the incoming fireworks.
From his seat he heard Auspicious Nine shout at him, "Are you sure you got proper Boo Dust. It doesn't seem to be working."
"It sure is." Matthaias said as he watched his erstwhile student shout in the opposite direction from where he was actually seated. If everything worked out as planned, they'd be able to quickly move past the Sense Awakening stages and get to the actual tempering exercises quickly enough, and then he'd actually finally get to go the fuck to sleep. He'd managed to wrangle a nice concession out of Chief Kuro for failing to be transparently clear about exactly what his trial experienced. As he watched a completely out of his mind treeman trying to serenade a heap of stones, Matthaias wondered if Auspicious Nine would be regretting trying for body cultivation after this session or when he had to ingest a Four Devils Screaming potion as a foundation building recipe. He'd pretty comfortably bet on the latter before anything else, uncomfortably remembering the burn of the portion on its way out, and if anything it'd be worse for a treeman. Sighing, he began cycling again, the massive meal he had beforehand providing ample fuel to work out anything that may have gone awry in his surprise weeklong trip. At least he had a good show.
A/N: Big credit to @Insane-Not-Crazy for writing most of this monster of an omake as well as their patience--I honestly just did a bit of editing after procrastinating a ton. Hopefully I'll get a bit more of a balanced workload later on--but there's only so much you can do after coming home from finals to forty-hour workweeks from your "part time job" while on break, haha. Time to collapse--oh wait no shit I've got more work to do--
