Hmmph... this junior is a good seed [Cultivation Management Quest]

[occipitallobe]

Good Seed and Omake Spreadsheet Rules:

Firstly, if you have questions about Good Seeds and the like please read here. If that doesn't answer your question please ping me in thread, or on Discord.

If you write a new Good Seed, or write an omake, please update the spreadsheet if you have access.

If you do not have access, please ping a collaborator (Swordomatic, Alectai, Quest, TehChron, Insane-Not-Crazy, Humbaba, ReaderOfFate, Kaboomatic, no., BungieONI) letting them know what you want and they will update the spreadsheet here. To gain access, you will need a gmail account of some kind. Throwaway emails are fine (I'm using one for the spreadsheet), but to gain access it's as simple as sending me either your email via PM, via DM in Discord, or just in Discord's #spreadsheet-requests channel.

This is mandatory. If a Good Seed does not record their omake by pinging collabs (or just requesting access and editing things themselves - this is the preferred option), I won't give out awards. If a new Good Seed is not recorded here, they won't advance. By doing this it makes the whole thing manageable for me - it's gotten pretty unwieldy!

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Omake Writer Instructions:

There are four fields you need to fill out.

Omake Link, which is just a link to your first omake for the turn. This makes it easier for me to read them as I do the update - without this it's tough to know off the bat which omake were written this turn, and to properly

Requested Bonus, which is your requested bonus for your omake. You can leave it up to me if you like. You can see more info in the Good Seed infopost here.

Cultivation Aims. For those following unorthodox paths - higher than 9th Heavenstage or later than 7th Dao Pillar paths. Please put in what you are aiming for before you break through. I have left it as 'default'. If you do not edit it, I'll go with that.

Turn Notes - Do you want to do something specific? Enter a Secret Realm? Help the Clan out in some way? If you have something specific you want to accomplish on this turn, put it in turn notes so I can adjust your Fate around it.

All other fields are for QM use to record character information to properly run the flow of the game.

 

[Katana1515]

Minervina Barda 17: Something Wicked This Way Comes

Greetings Aspirant

Thank you for your payment of 14 Contribution Points. May you continue to serve the Clan with honour and distinction.

The following are excerpts from the logs of "Markuth, The Gourmet of Virtue" a Foundation Stage Blood Cannibal of the Great Circle who was in nominal command of a troop of Dervishes intent on infiltrating the XIn Kingdom in the most recent conflict between our two powers.

The Aspirant should note that the records are incomplete, partially because of battle damage to Markuth's recording crystal, partially at the request of the Bureau of Secrets. Any requests for further information on this aspect of that campaign should be directed to Minervina Barda.

EDIT: Don't bother even thinking about asking for a refund. Barda

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Entry 1: 2 Months before crossing the Xin Border

At Last! We set out tomorrow. I have three score handpicked disciples and permission to indulge our appetites without reproach in the Xin Kingdom. The elders have kept us on a short leash for far too long, I know that I am not the only one who's advancement has stalled for lack of fuel in recent decades. I can feel my blood quicken for the first time in years at the thought of gnawing on the marrow of the petty sorcerers said to populate this Qi sparse land.

I have not had a chance to partake of the locals here before but Tengyi, my second in command, says the local livestock make incredibly tender and nutritious meals, since they have no tradition of body cultivation. They should make for a pleasant change from the oily, metallic flavour of the Golden Devils my colleagues will be breaking their teeth on further north.



Entry 3: 1 day after crossing the Xin Border

We entered Xin territory today unchallenged. Just as our scouts reported, this stretch of the border is dominated by a rough shale desert with sparse vegetation and little water. Crossing it with my Qi Condensation disciples in tow will likely be the work of a few weeks, but once we have traversed this natural barrier the supple flesh of the sorcerers will be ours for the taking!

I have decided that from here on the force will move at night, in small groups of three or four. This will let us better obscure our numbers from any sorcerous observers as well as protecting us from the desert heat. I have given key members of each group talismans so they can find my location each morning, so Tengyi and I can dispense fresh orders and supplies. This means the Disciples can bed down in a warded camp for the long daytime hours as well.

Entry 4: 2 days after crossing the Xin Border

Four disciples went missing during last night's march. Tengyi wants to stop and search for them, but I refused. No doubt they decided to strike out alone, figuring a smaller, faster, group would have a better chance of securing meals. Privately, I wish them luck, though the Elders standing orders mean I will have to turn them into a stew if I catch up to them.

I swear the stew rule was instigated to punish officers for failing to keep the disciples in line. Everyone knows that First Realm blood artists should be braised, never boiled, it spoils the flavour.

Entry 5: 4 days after crossing the Xin border.

2 more missing at today's camp. Tengyi is livid, but that just shows his inexperience at command. True demonic cultivators are willful and full of pride. It would be a disappointment if there were no dragons in the junior generation with the backbone to strike out on their own rather than follow orders. Otherwise we would be little better than those weak kneed Golden Devils.

Entry 6: 7 days after crossing the Xin Border

Six more disciples vanished tonight. I was starting to become concerned when we lost another three yesterday. I need at least some followers when we get to the Xin Kingdom proper. I went amongst the men and made it clear that any further insubordination would be severely punished, even if I had to stall the advance for a while to track the opportunists down.

So when six men didn't appear for the morning roll call, I let Tengyi do his scouting this time. He returned later with a corpse. One of ours we think, though it's hard to be certain what with all of that green fungus growing all over him. The shrivelled corpse looked more like a rotted tree stump than anything. Tengyi thinks the local Spirit Beasts must be more potent than the scouts reported and went on about how the Necrotic Tear Scorpions of his homeland could do similar things to the unwary.

I hope he's right. In any case, tomorrow night we march as a single pack.

Entry 7: 6 days after crossing the Xin Border

Tengyi was wrong and he almost paid for it with his life. If I had been a moment later in knocking that arm out of his mouth I would have been looking for a new second in command.

We were camped in a perfectly innocuous little valley, trying to find some shade in a patch of scraggly bushes. A small brook provided freshwater and I was considering a quick bath when the bushes started killing everyone.

They animated without a single whisper of Qi as a warning. Branches grew like lightning bolts, wrapped themselves around a half dozen Disciples and punctured them with handspan long thorns before I could even get a grasp on what was going on.

I moved swiftly to extract them of course, but it was too late. Their weak bodies had already given out.

What made things worse is that my stupid subordinates had already devoured their fallen colleagues while I was busy investigating the murderous foiliage. Only doing what's natural of course, no one wants to watch such valuable resources waste away. But the venom in them was one more voracious than any I had seen before. Every man who took a bite was dead within minutes as he was eaten from the inside out by some foul smelling black substance.

And just like that, a third of our forces are dead, and in a way that even denies the survivors the use of their bodies for advancement.

This isn't just unfortunate encounters with spirit flora, and it's far beyond the quackery of the hedge-witches of Xin. The poison arts of the Golden Devils have developed something of a reputation in the last century or so. I myself had a nasty run in with one of their Poison Artists just before the blasted truce was signed.

This mission might not be as easy as I thought.

Entry 8: 10 days after crossing the Xin Border.

I can now confirm that we are in the middle of an incredibly intricate field of wards and traps.

I hope the other raiding parties are having more luck, though I somehow doubt it.

Things have only gotten worse since the murder bush incident. We come across a few new death traps each day. No too are alike. Tree's who throw metal leaves at passers-by, snake constructs that jump out from the sand without warning, a horde of locusts that burst into deadly balefire when swatted. What's worse is that even a tiny injury from any of these traps invariably proves fatal as the victims are ravaged with what seem to be some spitefully painful venoms.

It's fucking ridiculous and I am fast running out of disciples willing to walk in front of me and Tengyi.

At least we should be out of this blasted wasteland in a few days, there's no way the Devils would have put up these types of traps near their beloved mortals.

Entry 15: 16 days after crossing the Xin Border.

We were supposed to be out of this wasteland by now, but two nights ago bloody Tengyi turns to me after looking at the stars and says we have been going in the wrong direction.

I didn't believe him at first, until I realised that I recognised a nearby tree as being the same one that attacked us a week ago.

Some kind of illusionary ward had us going in circles. I don't even know how long for, perhaps from the moment we entered. It's subtle, but powerful. Even now I know about it I can feel it tugging at my eyes and feet, trying to lure me off course.

Entry 17: 18 days after crossing the Xin Border

I abandoned the rest of the group a few hours ago. Fuck those useless fools, they can all be swallowed up by these Devil traps.

I should have known something was wrong when Tengyi came back into camp so quietly. He always bugs me for extra rations at meal times.

That day I woke up to find his hand around my neck and a knife in his hand about to end me. I only survived by expending the Blood-Marrow Amulet, my last live saving measure.

This was no ordinary coup though. Tengyi's eyes had turned a bright purple and I found a suspicious looking thorn in the back of his neck after I dispatched him.
I also found he had murdered another half-dozen of us in our sleep before he got to me.

If whatever foul Devil wrought this trap can turn our own against us, then the Disciples are more of a hindrance than an asset. I should have enough fuel rationed so that I can maintain top speed if I head towards the Xin heartlands alone.

Entry 19: 19 days after crossing the Xin border.

(Subject pauses at multiple points to cough up blood during this recording)

I was so careful, how did this happen?

It was in the air I think, a gas maybe, or perhaps it was the sand and dust. I had avoided a dozen traps in the past days but how does one avoid the wind?

I was sprinting along when a dust devil crossed my path, the first hint I got of its sinister nature was an odd metallic glint in its depths. It was far too late to avoid it then and it got….inside me somehow.

I feel like my lungs are being torn apart with every breath.

Entry 20: 21 days after crossing the Xin border.

(Subjects voice is haggard and barely audible in this recording, indicative of being grievously wounded)

It's her, by the Old Ones Blood and Bile I can't believe it, but it's her. The same precocious brat of a brass whore that humiliated me a century ago. She's back and she is my doom.

(BARDA: I really don't remember the incident he's talking about here. I can't say that I recognised him at the time.)

She was waiting for me as I finally got out of her trap field, serene as you please. The bitch had the brass balls to clap and congratulate me for being the first to get all the way through.

I attacked of course, my Crimson Flowing Spear technique should have cut her in half, but she was so fast it beggared belief. Golden Devils are supposed to be slow, and she should have been vulnerable without her traps and tricks. But she simply stepped to one side and put her fist right through my chest like it was made of paper.

And now I lie here, my life's blood ebbing out into the sands. She's watching me, I can feel some new poison moving through my tattered veins as she taps away with paper and quill. 'Taking notes' she says.

(What follows are 3 minutes 38 seconds of unintelligible shouting, screaming and whimpering. Subject expires shortly afterwards.)

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We hope you found this transcript enlightening and would recommend a number of other articles from the same contributor.

The Virtues of Venom: A beginners guide to practical poisoning by Minervina Barda (40 points)

Fangs and Flora: A somewhat comprehensive guide to the venomous denizens of the desert by Minervina Barda (20 points)

Ponderings on the Poison Dao: The Unorthodox Path by Minervina Barda (50 points)

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This ones been on the stove for a while and might be overboiled, but heh ho!

First Omake of the turn!

@Kaboomatic or @ReaderOfFate can I have Minervina attached to the Growling Dervishes Mission and assigned to 'Help The Clan' rather than get a Fate Roll. Looking forward to seeing how the new mechanic plays out. If I can still request an Omake Bonus as well (I think thats how it works) I will take a Cultivation Bonus.

 

[BadAtScreenNames]

The Mirror (Part 5 of 7)
Maria turn 8 sixth omake​

When a mortal thinks of a cultivator battle, he will usually start by naming the legends of his people. In the Divided Mortal Empire, he will speak of the duel between the first True Dragon Emperor and the Ten Sting Mother, progenitor of the turquoise scorpion clan. In the Colossus Footsteps, they would speak of Old Gold's battle with the Blood Mask, and the great scar he left on its face. Even out amongst the horrors of the Man-Farms of Cannibal territory, they might whisper of Lung-Swallower's last wardance, and the Nine Hungry Tongues who slew him and ate his corpse between them.

If that mortal considered further, he would probably describe the majesty of struggle; brutal, certainly, but graceful in its brutality. Power mingling with precision. Treasures of glorious potency, producing unearthly spells of heavenly might. Warriors springing into the air like eagles and battling without ever once touching the ground.

And at last, if he pushed on the last few steps, he might think (briefly, for it is unwise to let such a thought take root in case a passing cultivator sees it and takes offence) of the wreckage left behind; broken buildings, cratered landscapes, unlucky bystanders caught in the crossfire and… wounded.

But he would never think of the struggle Maria and her clanmates engaged in that day. Nothing so unpleasantly visceral would cross his mind.

The figure descended from a nearby balcony like a comet, robes flaring out behind him as he landed. It was hard to pay attention to him though, as the dead flesh carpets suddenly exploded into motion. The black veins suddenly shuddered as ichor flowed through them, pulsing to a heartbeat's rhythm, and the meat tore itself off the wall to reach for her.

Maria didn't stop to think. She just moved, one hand grabbing hold of Adonia's robes, another drawing her spear, and flinging herself into the air. It was a long way from the most graceful she'd ever been, but it worked. The meat smashed into the ground less than an inch beneath them. Adonia, twisting through space beside her, drew her spear and thrusted with a single fluid motion. The curtain – gasped? Howled? – and pulled back. The wound was deep but bloodless; inside, Maria could see the flesh undulating like a jellyfish.

The two landed, Maria roughly, Adonia with almost perfect poise, and darted back. Oyster was already there, hands full of throwing knives.

"Don't let them touch you," he muttered tersely, and threw. The knives sang as they cut through the air, lodging in the flesh-curtains as they started to advance. Again, that not-scream, but it seemed to last longer this time. Unreadable green sigils blazed with eldritch light seared themselves into existence. Curse marks.

"What happens if they touch us?"

"He can get into your head-" Oyster began.

"No," said the figure, and gestured. The meat curtains shuddered and surged, spitting out a dozen white shards. Maria reacted unthinkingly, her spear lashing out to intercept. Adonia's mirrored hers, and their blades sliced forward, up, back-

Guardian Steel Strike

And cut them out of the air, spinning harmlessly away.

Bone. The spines were hunks of bone.

"My word," said the figure. They could have been settled in a teahouse, from the way he talked. "You know, I knew you Devils were impressive, but that was… well. That was quite frankly educational."

Maria's eyes darted past him. The others were blurs of steel and motion behind him, fighting more of the meat-curtains. She couldn't make out who was winning, but –

He had to be focused on them, didn't he? If she could just keep him talking…

"Thanks," she grunted, glancing back up at him. "Adonia's better."

"The Glass and Iron stance," said Adonia. She clearly had the same idea. "A speciality of mine."

"Well, it is exceptional, it really is," said the figure. He reached up and pulled back his hood to better examine them, for the first time revealing his mask.

Maria's stomach roiled at the sight of it. The thing was made of the same dead-but-twitching meat as the flesh-curtains, but his was fresher. It glistened in the sunlight, layered flat against his face, twisted in some godsawful parody of a smile.

He bowed his head slightly.

"I think it's only polite to introduce myself. I am Kuei Shin Tensei. A privilege to meet you both, I'm sure."

Adonia bowed her head slightly. "Adonia Valerius, of the 178th​ Legion. A pleasure."

"Maria," said Maria. There wasn't much else to add. Kuei nodded.

"Well. Lady Valerius, Lady Maria, I'm very glad to make your acquaintance. Your friend, however, has to die."

As he finished speaking the curtains lashed out again. Shit. Not long enough to get a read on things. They'd have to stop him again. Adonia darted in front of her, sent her spear snaking forward in a flurry of jabs and slashes to take the brunt of the fleshy onslaught. That just left Maria with the leftovers. She twisted, arced her own spear in a halo around herself to cut any strays down.

Oyster had stepped back to let them work, but now they had a defence in place he started work. He wasn't bothering to hide his workings now; green light crackled and zapped along his long fingers as he worked it into sigil after sigil and settled them onto his palms. As the last one burnt home, he leapt, twisting through the air above Maria's spear.

"No," hissed Adonia, teeth drawn back over her teeth into a battle rictus. "No, you fool, you fool-"

The curtains surged up towards Oyster. He spun, knives cutting vectors of clear air out of his enemies flesh, until he reached the apex of his jump. He was upside down, vertical in the air, hands empty but for the light of his techniques.

For a moment, he looked at Maria. In that moment, she saw nothing but serenity and iron will in his eyes.

"Curse Style: Extant Decay Barrage," he muttered.

And then

He

Moved

She'd play it back in her head, later. He struck, over and over, palm landing flat against each crude pseudopod of flesh with a dull thwack of meat on meat and a sharp flash of green light. The blows were impressive, but the speed of it was what she remembered, blurring from blow to blow so quickly she could barely tell them apart. The curtains reared back, slowed by the curses he'd hit them with before and the ferocity of his assault, until he was clear, landing on the far side of them and Kuei. He landed neatly in a perfect guard stance, then sent his fingers flickering through a complicated gesture.

"Begin."

The curse marks blazed with liquid green light so bright Maria had to shield her eye, cursing from the pain. Then the stench changed; the spoiled meat and blood subsumed by the sickly-sweetness of rot. She opened her eye again. The light was gone. In its place was thick white pelts of fur that coated the flesh curtains as they lay, still twitching feebly, on the ground. Oyster's hands filled with throwing knives again.

"Shall I tell you the true name of god?" he asked. It was the weirdest threat that Maria had ever heard, but damn if he hadn't nailed the delivery. And better yet, he'd given her a gap to exploit. Her spear flicked out towards his neck. Adonia was a second behind her, the shock of what she'd seen slowing her.

Two on one. Devils' kind of odds. Their speartips sheared through the cloth of his hood, into his neck-

-except his neck wasn't there any more. Their weapons scythed harmlessly through his empty robes. They staggered to a halt, twisted with the ease of long practice, came back to back in a guard position. No sign of him.

"Oh shit."

Oyster's face had gone slack with horror.

"He's – Oh shit. We have to go. Now."

Maria stared at him.

"Oyster, we're-"

"You don't understand, he can-"

A scream behind them tore her attention away. They could see the others now. Letha, spear up, shield held low. Zeth, on his knees as he stabbed up into a flesh curtain above him. Priam shifting from stance to stance in a carefully executed defence. Kyra-

Oh. Oh no.

Kyra, in front of Alcander, her spear broken and her chest blooming with jagged bone spikes.

The world froze in that moment.

I didn't like her. Maria's thoughts like little fragments of ice in her head. She made me feel stupid. Less than her. Less a devil. Like Adonia, but less direct, so – so I couldn't just hate her and ignore it. Thought I was-

After the… the…

Me.

The Red Place hadn't spoken since the sparring match. Its voice was ragged and hateful and furious.

After she saw ME. She hated you.

No.

She feared you. Like an animal. A mad little animal snapping and snarling, rabid like a dog.

That-

Is true. No more lies. She saw you as what you are. Me. You're me.

No. I'm-

LETMEOUT

The temptation loomed over her for a second. She could. That was the worst part. She could, right now, give in and let the Red Place tear this town apart, leaving nothing but wreckage and the shreds of these things.

She could. But the others would die.

They'd have to fight around her berserk, and she'd lash out at them as much as she did their enemies. And Imperator alone knew how long it'd take to drag herself free afterwards.

She steeled herself.

No.

I don't need you.

And the world unfroze, the Red Place's furious snarls die unheard in her ears. Kyra staggered back into Alcander. The boy had dropped his spear and was trying to hold her up. Zeth and Priam had started to advance towards them, Letha faster. Maria had to close. With all of them together they'd be able to throw up a formation. With Kuei gone that was their best option. Adonia was already moving. She joined her, matching her steps to the older woman's stride-

Until Oyster's hands caught hold of their collars and yanked.

Maria couldn't help herself. Some reactions were so deeply ingrained they might as well be instinct, and the pit had given her one response to hands at her neck. The spear swung around in a brutal arc. The mushroom had clearly expected something, though; he caught her weapon by the shaft.

"Don't."

"Whatthefuckareyoudoing!?" Adonia's voice hissing and high pitched.

"We can't gather, he's-"

And then Kuei struck.

His mask pushed up and out of the nearest flesh curtain as the others assembled. He was naked, now, but for the mask, and she could see his body. Rail thin, every bone and tendon clear as day through his dusky skin, hairless as a child. Warm golden gleam to his skin; turtle-born, clearly. He arched his back, spread his armed.

Screamed.

The curtains lunged, fused, becoming a tsunami that descended on the others from every angle. Maria watched with horrified fascination as they slammed down on her clanmates. She saw their spears flash for a moment, and then the tsunami closed over them.

"No."

She tried to recognise the voice. Realised it was hers.

"No, no, no-"

"True Masks control your mind first, then they take your body," said Oyster. He was spitting out words in a staccato burst, fast as he could manage. "That's how it works. The others aren't his yet, so he can't get their cultivation, but-"

Kuei's head turned back to stare at them.

"Ah, Sir Mushroom. I thought I'd made it clear – those are my secrets."

He started towards them. A flicker at the corner of Maria's vision drew her eye to the roofs of the street they were on. More curtains. Dozens of them. They'd be overwhelmed in seconds. Oyster followed her gaze.

Cursed.

Drew more knives.

"Go," he growled. Maria stared at him. "GO," he said again, voice hot with battle-fury. "NOW." And then he was up in the air again, throwing and drawing and throwing, curses exploding out over the flesh curtains as he did so.

For a second she didn't understand. Then it clicked. She and Adonia were clan members. He wasn't. If he bought them time to get to Three Frogs, they could raise the local garrison and return.

A long shot. But the best they had.

She grabbed Adonia's hand and ran.
---

Almost done. Almost fucking done. Jesus. This story. @TehChron @Alectai may I have this threadmarked, please?

 

[Juugo]

I really liked your latest Chapter! Especially the part where she reasoned herself into action out of her own volition. So many other fictional characters I know would simply give into a place of rage. Marias Journey of mastering that part of herself is very interesting.

 

[BadAtScreenNames]

I really liked your latest Chapter! Especially the part where she reasoned herself into action out of her own volition. So many other fictional characters I know would simply give into a place of rage. Marias Journey of mastering that part of herself is very interesting.

Click to shrink...

Thanks, dude! I appreciate it. Now pardon me while I float away on a cloud of good feelings!

 

[occipitallobe]

Aurelia ran.

Her bare feet bled on the rocks, as she leapt from one boulder to another, running up the bare mountain path.

Claws shimmered by her head, missing by a hair.

Tears ran out of her eyes.

She was scared.

"Cassia...", she whispered.

They were all dead. All but her.

Thirteen of the Imperator's finest, led by a False Core Formation Expert, Julius Wang.

She closed her eyes for a moment, blinking to get the blood and tears out.

A screech came from above, and the claws again.

"Please, no. No."

She had to climb. Had to get there.

It had started out so gloriously. Thirteen heroes on a vital infiltration mission, to drop off an important runic array on one of the floating islands in Cannibal territory. They'd made it barely a hundred li in before they were found, scattering to the winds. Aurelia was the fastest, so they'd given her the array.

She'd seen Julius die as she ran, a beast of a woman with claws for hands and eyes protruding from stalks ripping him apart, eating him as he screamed and bled and died.

Magne, Decima, Romulus... they'd kept together where they could, and each of them had bought her time, or served as a distraction.

"You're the fastest, Aurelia. And you're not very strong."

She whimpered as she ducked, a claw lazily swinging where her head had been. It was toying with her, now.

She was the fastest, though. Now the others were dead.

By the time they'd reached the aptly-named Terror Sky Island and used the floating barrel to rise up to it, there had only been her and Cassia left.

Then came the owl.

She had never been scared of birds, to tell the truth. Scorpions and insects, yes. But birds? Usually they were vultures, or crows, or other scavengers, unwilling to hunt down a cultivator, often serving as guides to where battles had been and bandits could be sought.

Now she was scared of birds.

The beast was huge, standing ten times her height. As they had leapt out of the barrel, it had awoken, and torn Cassia in half. Two quick gulps and it had swallowed her.

As if to punctuate her thoughts, a pellet of bone was spat out, landing mere centimetres away. She shuddered, and continued running.

Almost there. Almost to the top of the mountain atop the floating island. She leapt away, and a wing smashed into her, smashing her into the air.

Terrifying wingbeats sounded through the dark, the owl coming for her.

She bit her tongue, and spat out a gobbet of blood.

"Light unveiled, blood burning!"

It was hard to manage the chant with a profusely bleeding tongue, but she managed it. Nearly half her remaining qi went into a blinding light, directed at the owl.

She saw it for the first time. It was massive. Majestic. Terrifying. Like the small barn owls she had seen once in a cage, but thousands of times bigger. Its claws were a shining green as though they were carved from jade, and its feathers were pearlescent as the light shimmered across them. Its eyes were filled with wisdom, though it was not wisdom turned to her benefit. She understood.

"If I leave... you'll let me live?"

The owl nodded gravely, still blinded by the light.

She spat out another mouthful of blood - no qi this time, just the unfortunate effect of biting one's tongue hard enough to draw blood.

"Sorry. I can't."

It hooted at her mournfully, and rose back up to its full height.

As it did, Aurelia turned, and ran.

Fingers slippery with sweat, she grasped onto the tiny rune-array she had been given. She didn't even know what it did, only how to activate it.

A few more steps, and the claws flashed out again.

She screamed.

Her leg went flying, and she clawed up desperately, over the lip of what was in truth a caldera. Inside sat a small lake, and Aurelia shuddered.

She pressed the little red button marked "PRESS" on the little runic box, and threw with all her might.

The owl swooped down towards the box, and Aurelia spat one more mouthful of blood. Light burned in the sky, flame and light and blood mixing together to form an attack sufficiently powerful to drive even the owl off for a moment.

With a plop, the box settled into the lake.

As the massive bird bore down on her once more, Aurelia didn't think about the mission. Not about her dead friends, or about her family, or her husband.

All she could think was please.

"Please," she muttered.

"Please. I don't want to die."

The claws flashed down one last time.








Slowly - ever so slowly - the island began to turn.

 

[Pyro Hawk]

So... Were any of those characters Good Seeds?

And I feel bad for Aurelia, as I'm pretty sure she did indeed die at the end. Though at least she did manage to fulfil the objective the team and herself spent their lives trying to achieve. Just leaves the hope that it will have a beneficial result...

 

[Katana1515]

Damn I hope it was worth it!

Also is this the first reference we have seen to the clan using False Core Cultivators? I wonder if this was common before or is evidence of our current dire straits.

 

[nothingtoseehere]

... those are the ones we voted to let our mad scientist make last turn. So yes, they are a sign of dire straights, but one we approved.

 

[moon-llama]

... those are the ones we voted to let our mad scientist make last turn. So yes, they are a sign of dire straights, but one we approved.

Click to shrink...

The core cultivators we made last turn weren't false cores but actually early core cultivators.
They might not be able to advance anymore but they are not false cores.

 

[Katana1515]

The core cultivators we made last turn weren't false cores but actually early core cultivators.
They might not be able to advance anymore but they are not false cores.

Click to shrink...

That was my understanding too. Though a False Core would seem a good candidate for what sounds like it was a suicide mission, maybe he was an older Foundation Establishment Cultivator who was encouraged to make a failed breakthrough especially for this OP?

Damn, I really want to know what happens next.

 

[no.]

Aw man, every single lost core formation hurts right now, even if they're false. Hopefully the accomplished objective will be worth it.

 

[BadAtScreenNames]

The Mirror (Part 6 of 7)
Maria turn 8 seventh omake​

The sun had started to set a while back. Maria was still running. Adonia was ahead, twenty, maybe thirty feet, skidding to a halt and turning to fling her spear. Maria dived, rolled, felt the spear's passing slip through the air inches above her, came up onto her feet already starting a sprint. The curtain behind her gave a gasping scream as it took the blow. She reached back (still running), fingertips just grasping the butt of the spear, pulled. It came free.

They blurred away into the sunset, not looking back. The other curtains would still be following. Maria twisted, flicked the spear into Adonia's hands.

"Why- risk-"

"Can't- afford- to- lose- weapon," Maria gasped back.

It had been four hours since the ambush. The horses had been consumed not long after they escaped. Now, only their cultivation kept them from a similar fate. To begin, they'd tried to outpace them, but the damn things were fast, too; they'd been forced into evasive manoeuvres, zig-zagging and skirmishing when they could.

It hadn't worked. Worse, nightfall was taking what light they had to navigate by; Spiteful Heaven only knew how far off course they'd veer. And they were burning Qi too fast. They could keep going for days under normal circumstances, but the curtains had harried them so consistently, their numbers seemingly infinite, that they'd been forced to pull out the stronger techniques just to survive. Exhaustion was going to be an actual problem soon enough. That must have been Kuei's intention; wear them down until they fell, and his monsters could feast.

But there might be an alternative. The dozens of skirmishes had revealed a weakness; the curtains had no eyes, and their mouths were formless gashes riddled with bone teeth. Their only true sense was touch.

"Vibrations," Adonia had said, upon that realisation. "They're- using- the- vibrations."

"But- at the town-"

"He must have directed them."

That had led to more strategizing on half-breaths. If they could open enough of a lead, the vibrations might be harder to follow. It also might not, but they were short on alternatives, and otherwise they were already dead. As it was, they'd need one of them to launch a technique strong enough to drive back pursuit, and that would definitely burn through their qi. It might even burn their cultivation. They'd argued and searched, but there was no other way. One of them would have to risk it.

Maria couldn't say she knew Adonia well. She was just the old woman who sniped at her all the time. Who she was underneath that was a mystery. But it wasn't hard to guess how the argument over which one of them should do it would go. There would be snarled mentions of honour, sacrifice, the good of the clan. They'd go around in circles for gods knew how long, and with each passing second the Curtains would close on them.

They didn't have the time for that. She'd have to do it herself, now.

Maria put her head down, gritted her teeth, and pushed. Open up a little more space. Give herself room to-

And then Adonia ruined everything. The older woman caught hold of Maria's shoulder and pulled herself forward. The distance was minimal, perhaps inches wide, but it was enough to stare into each other's faces.

Adonia looked – tired. Sad.

"No," she gritted. And twisted, leapt.

Threw her spear again.

They'd covered the theory behind the Earth-Shattering Spear at the Dawn Fortress. An ancient technique, supposedly. Simple, too. You just channelled your qi into your throwing arm, pushed half of it into the spear, destabilised it, and let fly. The power of the Blood of Bronze would be amplified, and the terrain could be rearranged without too much difficulty.

The only problem was the price; every drop of qi you had.

The spear hit the ground behind them with a thunderous crack, echoing out across the desert The earth beneath them rumbled. Split. Yawned open. The curtains screamed like pigs in a slaughterhouse, but it didn't last for long. The gap went deep.

Adonia landed roughly, her knees buckling under her. Maria caught her before she fell. They were still for a moment.

Then, in the far distance, another howl-gasp.

"Fuck." Maria sur eyed the horizon. She couldn't see them, but that meant nothing. They could go low, crawl on their bellies like snakes, and you'd never know it. "We have to go. Now."

"Can't," muttered Adonia, sagging like a marionette in Maria's arms. "Nothing… left."

"Find something quickly, then."

"Leave… me."

"No."

"Distract… them. Eating me… stop them… chasing you." She turned an exhausted face up to Maria. "Go."

The two stared at one another. For longer than she'd ever admit, Maria considered. But fuck that. She'd not give the bitch the satisfaction. "He'll get in your head," she hissed. "And then he'll follow whichever way I go."

Maria shifted her grip, heaved Adonia onto her shoulders, and ran.

---

They found the cave after the moon had started to rise. She'd checked three before it, but they weren't deep enough. They needed darkness, and quiet. Here, at last, they'd found them. She heaved Adonia a little higher, and staggered inside. Deeper. Gods, she was tired. She could stop. Lie down. Sleep. But no. Deeper. Deeper into the dark. Kept going until at last the shadows wrapped her up like a shield and at last collapsed.

She lay like that, with Adonia piled up beside her, in those shadows, for gods knew how long. She didn't sleep. Knew that much, at least. Eyes locked on the cave mouth, and the pool of moonlight on the floor. Sat and waited. Long. So long. Any second. Any second there'd be that awful exhalation. Gasping, sighing, screaming flesh, puppeteered by black veins. And then they'd be done. Dead. Dead and eaten.

Waited.

Waited.

Waited.

They didn't come.

After a moment, Adonia stirred, coughed.

"Why?" Her voice was slurred. Qi exhaustion. They'd talked about this back at the Dawn Fortress too. Push too hard, go too far, and your body went into shock. "Why- didn't you…" another cough. Wet sound to it. "You don't even like me."

Maria sighed. "Shut up, Adonia." It came out wearier than she'd like.

"Should have left me."

More silence.

"Should have. Should have," Adonia growled.

"No."

"Could have made it to-"

"Told you, he could have found where I went in your head."

"I wouldn't have broken."

Maria tried to leave it. But Heaven's bullshit mercy, she didn't have it in her. Not today.

"Of course you wouldn't. Perfect little Optimatoi that you are," she muttered. The contempt didn't quite hide the envy.

She felt Adonia shift. Stare at her.

"What?"

"I don't like you? You don't like me. Fucking hate me, as far as I can tell. Because I'm Turtle-Blood, right?" The words were boiling out of her now like water from a kettle left too long over the fire. "Not just the Red Place. Started long before that. Because I was late that first day? Held on far too long for that. But you hate Oyster too. That's how I guessed. Turtle-blood. Too little Bronze, far too much everything else. Because you're better, aren't you. Yeah. Good family, stretches all the way back to Imperator knows when. Bet you don't even know. Can't even remember. Good little Golden Devil stuck with some bastard-whelped-"

That's right. Tell her. Tell her all of it.

She wasn't shouting, but her voice was starting to rise. Damnit. She hadn't even noticed the anger building up. Had to stop it, now. She caught her jaw with her will and dragged it shut. The furious words were piling up on her tongue, acidic and hot. She shut her eyes. Breathed.

Still rather lie, then. Stupid child.

Not listening.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. She felt the Red Place's thoughts withdraw into her head, denied this time. Kept up the cycle, still and consistent, until it was gone.

Adonia was still staring at her. She didn't look over.

"Just- go to sleep," she muttered. It was stupid, she knew- she wasn't going to – but she hadn't the will to spare for forcing an apology.

Adonia ignored her. Kept staring.

"…I don't-" she started. Qi Exhaustion still slurring her speech. Maybe that's why it stopped. She started again. "You- must know your rages are-"

"Said go to sleep, for fucks sake."

Another silence. Longer. Adonia turned her face away.

"…Not because of your blood," she muttered. Maria couldn't stop a derisive, disbelieving little laugh. "It's not. Turtle-bloods all through the clan. Still got the blood. Still… still Optimatoi. It's- Gods." Another silence. "How old are you?"

"37."

"And already 8th​ Heavenstage."

Maria shifted. "Lot of talents these days."

"A lot more. Not a lot." She coughed, gasped, continued. "I am 94. I have spent years studying, practicing, and serving the clan. I'm at the 7th​ Heavenstage. I will, perhaps, make it to the eighth before I die."

They sat in silence.

"…You're *jealous*?" Maria couldn't keep the incredulity out of her tone. Adonia grunted. "That's why-"

"I told you it wasn't your blood."

Maria couldn't help it. She started laughing.

"Shut up."

She didn't. As best as she could, she tried to stifle it, but she just kept laughing, shoulders shaking, tears running down her cheeks. When finally she managed to calm down a little, she spoke.

"Gods. I thought- Gods."

"Yes. Well."

"Kind of flattering."

The silence went on a moment longer.

"You," said Adonia, begrudgingly, "are a rare talent. An exceptional fighter. And an asset to the clan."

Maria felt her cheeks warm at the praise.

"Thanks," she muttered.

"You are welcome."

"How charming," said Kuei. The Carpets surged inside.

---

This damn series. Keeps growing. @TehChron @Alectai @Kaboomatic @Humbaba could this please be bookmarked

 

[Juugo]

So, nice Omake you got there! @BadAtScreenNames

That carpet of red is ominous. I wonder how this conflict will resolve. They are without qi and exhausted. That´s not a recipe for success in any fight. At least that moment of respite allowed them to air their grievances and they seem to be finally on the same page.

 

[BadAtScreenNames]

So, nice Omake you got there! @BadAtScreenNames

That carpet of red is ominous. I wonder how this conflict will resolve. They are without qi and exhausted. That´s not a recipe for success in any fight. At least that moment of respite allowed them to air their grievances and they seem to be finally on the same page.

Click to shrink...

...I am seriously digging these reviews, dude! Thank you. Also thank you for being so patient, I am *FINISHING THIS THING* tomorrow and then we can start on the collab.

 

[occipitallobe]

Twenty thousand Golden Devils, arrayed across the field in formation. Resplendent in bronze armour, they marched forward, valiant.

Manuel let a smirk cross his face.

Against them stood nearly a hundred thousand Cannibals. A tremendous part of their fighting force, and a massive one committed here to tie up huge numbers of Golden Devil forces to ensure that the defenses elsewhere needed to be stripped.

Not an especially cunning strategy, but it would've been workable.

He felt the motion in his mind, calculated the angles.

"Yes, old enemy. It would've been workable."

This was Old Cannibal's truest disadvantage. Manuel had been granted nearly a century to build traps, to plan and plot and weave against an enemy to come. He understood, as all sensible men did, that victory was not a matter of a single clever plan. Rather, a hundred components of clever plans, each useful in their own right, each deployed only when it was useful.

"The spine-pig knows but one thing, but the fox knows nine, one for each of her tails."

Yes, a fool put all their faith in a single plan. A fool, or a desperate man.

Manuel was hardly desperate, for all this was an unfortunate set of circumstances. Sun Diaxiang was no fool, but he was constrained. Spending the effort to circumvent his defenses around his little trap... well, it had been worth it. When you were losing, you put your faith in high-risk, high-value gambles. If you lost, well, you were going to lose anyway, but if you won, victory became possible.

Conversely, he gambled in smaller ways - at least here. A hundred little gambles along the border, each of them capable of paying off quite nicely. It didn't matter if he lost a few, as they were of limited value.

Now, it seemed, one of his many gambles was going to pay off.

A hundred thousand Cannibals.

A number not beyond imagining, but certainly beyond the power of the Clan who were set to face them.

No doubt some were asking why Old Gold had sent them to die, why they had been chosen to be the sacrificial piece.

Manuel's smirk became wider, and split into something resembling a smile. His face was lined with wrinkles that often made him look kind, but now accentuated the cruel expression he wore.

The Cannibals had not attacked yet. Oh, they'd probed for the last week. They had largely gathered into a camp, preparing for battle. Debating, no doubt, fighting over who was to be sent in first.

No matter.

He rose up into the air, and let his spiritual sense expand in a way he had not done in years. Any nearby Nascent Soul would feel it - any Nascent Soul within hundreds of li would feel it. But then, that was what he was counting on.

He felt the sense sweep over the Cannibals below.

"Blood Path always have such petty souls," he mused.

"Probably something to do with the speed of their growth.

He pulsed, a wave of raw spiritual force slamming out from him. Invisible and unstoppable, it swept out, only the lightest of force, the tiniest of backlashes filtering back to the Clan. None of his would die, but he suspected more than a few Qi Condensation disciples were going to have horrendous headaches for the next few days.

Below, Cannibals were collapsing. One died of an aneurysm immediately, others found blood streaming from their nose and eyeballs, some stronger in Qi Condensation were merely rendered unconscious.

In mere moments, the better part of ten thousand cultivators died.

Manuel waited a few moments.

"Not coming out, Diaxiang? Fine. I'll slaughter your disciples until even a coward like you feels shamed enough to come face me!"

He sliced out with his cleaver, projecting another wave of spiritual force. This one was shaped like a blade, carving into souls below. The raw force of it shattered meridians and crippled cultivators, leaving the dead and spiritually maimed in its path. He swung again, again, and again.

It had been nearly five minutes.

He looked down at the Cannibal camp, the little ants on the ground running about so furiously. He was assiduously killing those who ran first, to ensure he didn't miss any. Strands of soulstuff meandered over the battlefield, plucking fleeing disciples as an ordinary man might pluck a fruit, bodies vacated in moments, left bereft of all function and power.

Ten thousand.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

Such a slaughter was unthinkable. Oh, Diaxiang might be elsewhere, but there was nowhere else worth taking for Old Cannibal. Not to the same value. No, he would need to...

Manuel smiled, as a furious figure flew through the sky, obsidian spear in one hand, bloody banner in the other.

"Xiang'er!", Manuel exclaimed. "You got my invititation! Truly, I was worried you might not."

The other man looked infuriated. Terrified, no doubt as well. After all, this wasn't how you were supposed to fight as a Nascent Soul, not unless you possessed an overwhelming advantage.

"Fuck you, you piece of shit. Shut up and die. Then your Clan, too."

Manuel let the smile dance across his lips even further.

"Verbose. Did you ever consider giving speaking less-"

The spear darted forward, and Manuel dodged.

What had moments before been a slaughter became a battle, Cannibal forces fleeing in all directions as Old Cannibal and Old Gold clashed in the sky.

One a creature of bronze and shadow, the other all blood-red and flesh-pale, marked only by the inky blackness of the obsidians spear.

Manuel breathed out, countering a spear-strike with his cleaver again. Sun Diaxiang was a touch faster than him, a little more skilled in open combat. Certainly his better in raw endurance. Why, he would've had to have been a fool to pick this fight. That had to terrify Old Cannibal.

A moment longer.

Just a moment longer...

Old Cannibal cursed.

"I know you figured out my plan in Fu Tong. Some clever counter to it, no doubt. Turning the force aside? Well, doesn't matter. Lure me out, force me to use it? Lose twenty thousand for twenty thousand?"

The other man's tone was questioning, curious.

Manuel shook his head.

"It was tremendously clever, gathering that much Light Qi. I have no idea how you got it, or how you bound it. The only possibility I could think of was you harvested it from the calcified Dao of a Spirit Severing Ancestor of some sort? A work of genius, honestly. If I'd looked at it directly with my Dao... well, I think you might have won this war outright. And if I hadn't found a way to look at it, you could've used it on me, and won this fight."

Old Cannibal grinned.

"So? I don't need Fu Tong to win this fight. I can beat you down just fine myself. Even if you've sabotaged it somehow, or countered it, it won't do anything to me. Worst case for me is we fight, you old bastard. Me and you, and then I kill you."

His eyes danced with anticipation.

"Heaven, I've wanted to kill you for centuries, you know. The idea of tearing apart your delectable corpse, feasting on it while my disciples rape and burn their way through your precious little Dawn Fortress... it's been a dream of mine for almost as long as I've known you. Do you remember when I almost killed you that time in the Seven Hundred Spear Cavern?"

Manuel smiled.

"I do. Do you remember the time I turned one of your own traps against you and almost killed you?'

Old Cannibal swept down with his spear, lazily stabbing at Manuel, trying to tire him out. The man was still probing, still trying to figure out what tricks Manuel had up his sleeve.

"Ah, Emperor Peafowl City. The Jiang boy alerted you, if I recall. That was hardly you turning the trap against me."

"No, no."

"The Limestone Forge? You really think that was my trap?"

Manuel's smile split into a wide grin.

"At Fu Tong, Diaxiang."

Old Cannibal froze for a moment.

Thousands of li away, an island swept across the sky, interposing itself perfectly, if only temporarily, between the sun and an array built in the better part of the city.

An eclipse.

"Did you know Alexios built an entire portable array for me? Designed to counter the use of a Dao of Light if one ever appeared, to give me some breathing room against my natural enemy. A gift for ascending into Nascent Soul."

Manuel frowned.

"Then he died, and soon after almost everyone else I cared about died. You, though, still live."

He felt it. The raw energy flowing through him. The darkness that didn't just conceal, but consumed. The all-consuming wrath of Heaven transmuted, turned away from the sun. Cast into Shadow.

The eclipse spread, as Manuel felt the power of a massive array redirected into him. The world slowed, and ripples of shadow bloomed around him.

He moved, cleaver swinging out.

Old Cannibal blocked the cleaver with his spear, and Manuel's other hand found itself inside Old Cannibal's sleeve, and from there his immortal aperture. Oh, it wasn't really possible, but possibility became blurred as one advanced in the Dao. Perhaps not normally, but enhanced as he was by an array built by Old Cannibal to kill him, with all of its power turned in his favor for a single moment, it was made possible.

The things most hidden could be revealed, could be stolen by a thief in the night.

With a single movement of his hand, Manuel drew out a shard of blood-red crystal.

He smiled, and put it away.

The cleaver came down again, but this time Old Cannibal blocked his thieving hand. The power was gone - such an effect could not be replicated, but the other man didn't know that.

As the cleaver bit into an arm, Old Cannibal writhed and warped, and exploded. A massive gout of flesh and blood erupted where he had once been, leaving nothing intact.

Manuel raised an eyebrow. He didn't even know what sort of lifesaving item that was. The other man wasn't dead, but... teleportation? Revival? Reversal of injuries? He wasn't sure.

Still.

He doubted Old Cannibal would be contesting the battlefield today.

He turned his attention back to the hapless Cannibal army.

This was how war should be. His enemies dying, his people safe and content behind high walls and powerful arrays.

His smile didn't stop. Oh, they'd lost fine disciples for this. Spent money, borrowed money, and taken risks beyond the sensible, but it had paid off.

He flew down, waves of forces crashing down on the remaining Cannibal troops. He doubted he could kill all of them, but fifty thousand was a realistic goal. No need to have the troops exert themselves. Besides, this way he could simply be indiscriminate, and that would hasten the process.

He turned to the grisly work of the day. It was hours later when the looting began, bewildered troops wandering over tens of thousands of corpses. No battles fought, or lives lost.

Well.

He looked down at a shattered Cannibal, the woman begging for help. He could sense her meridians shattered, her strength reduced to that of a weak mortal.

No lives that mattered.

 

[Mochinator]

Nice! Shame that old Cannibal survived, but his wounds should buy us sufficient breathing room to prepare for the Trial as well as recover from it before the Cannibals can try pushing us again

 

[No7sHere]

Ok what did we steal from the cannibal that was that important?

 

[TimEd]

With a single movement of his hand, Manuel drew out a shard of blood-red crystal.

Click to shrink...

This is the immortal apperture that we didn't pick a while back right? Some sort of Item Box created from the corpse of that Cannibal kid we ganged up on with Old Cannibal?

Or is this just one item inside that Item Box?

 

[Bloodalchemy]

I think just one item. Since we fainted that we were trying to get into the aperture again.

 

[Katana1515]

Manuel persists in being absolutely awesome.

On a literal reading, are we to assume that the entire 100,000 strong cannibal army gets wiped to the last here? Do we actually have a force estimate for what percentage of the Cannibals fighting forces this was?

 

[RyubosJ]

Manuel persists in being absolutely awesome.

On a literal reading, are we to assume that the entire 100,000 strong cannibal army gets wiped to the last here? Do we actually have a force estimate for what percentage of the Cannibals fighting forces this was?

Click to shrink...

I think about 20K died before old C arrived, and then another 50K afterwards. So probably between 70K to 80K depending on how much action the rest of the Clan got.

 

[TimEd]

I think just one item. Since we fainted that we were trying to get into the aperture again.

Click to shrink...

Ahh, yes. That is true.

So now we are left to wonder what that loot was, and if it was worth revealing an eclipse. Though considering how it is apparently normally impossible to loot an aperture, there is little to no chance of useless things being stored there.

 

[Falconis]

Always one step ahead, than Manuel.
I honestly have to wonder if Gulper will get the courage to face him again any time soon after being shown three impossible things in an afternoon.Not to mention the injuries.

 

[uri]

I have my money on Manuel either steeling a key or one of old canibal lifesaving treasure s (meaning he lost two that day)

 

[RyubosJ]

Shadows in the Town of Bérkleï

Year 111

It was a little after midday when the group arrived back at Bérkleï, making far better time on the return trip even weighed down by the two bags containing Lord Rítsarnt and Galavant as they were.

The gates were just as they had left them, sealed shut. However, a pair of guards could be seen standing on the walls above them where Plái and Stéfanos had been previously. Skipping the ludicrous conversation from before, the guards simply called down to confirm their identities before opening the gate to let them in.

After being hurried in under the wall, the party were immediately lead along the deserted streets back towards the manor house that they had met Knight Nkáreth at previously. The guards didn't even ask any questions about the bags. Such professionalism should have been a comfort to Chrys, reminding them of the Dawn Fortress's legionnaires. Instead, it felt unnatural.

Chrys could see they were not alone in distrusting the guard's changed attitudes, with even Spy staying focused and quiet. In far less time than it had taken previously, the party arrived at the centre of town. Unlike before, the doors to the manor had been flung wide open. Without any perceivable hesitation, the guards lead the party indoors.

Almost immediately, Chrys was on guard. The darkness of the building was absolute in a way wholly antithetical to the bright light of the noonday sun outside. There was also a scent in the air of blood.

Freezing on the boundary line, Chrys drew their twin swords, accompanied by the rest of the party dropping the bags containing Lord Rítsarnt and Galavant and drawing their own weapons.

The pained yell from Lord Rítsarnt's bag was the only sound to pierce the tense silence. The party themselves now focused solely on the matter of the cultivator lying in wait for them. In a normal situation, this standoff would never happen so early. As cultivators of the Golden Devils, the party would have taken the Hoplite Formation and forced their opponent into the open while said opponent would attack them immediately.

However, Chrys and the others had stopped on the borderline of the trap. To take the Hoplite Formation so close to danger while not knowing where their foe waited would leave them vulnerable for a deadly moment. On the flip side, the trap's very existent meant their opponent did not think they could face six cultivators of the Golden Devils face to face.

And yet neither side could retreat. The party were duty-bound to face and defeat their opponent, as to abandon the town to a blood path cultivator would doom them all. And their opponent could not risk running as, without a doubt, anyone so weak as to fear six First Heavenstage cultivators in open battle could also not face the same six in a running retreat.

It was on this knife-edge that the opening bag echoed. Chrys struggled to resist the temptation to turn and look behind themselves, knowing that turning their back at this moment would spell their doom.

Focusing instead towards the darkness, Chrys noticed a stirring as the scent of blood thickened.

"Yoooooooou" hissed a female voice more animal than human.

As one, the party turned towards the voice and channelled their qi into the hoplite formation, summoning a shadow of the Clan's power above them. The formation's speed was the only thing that saved Lord Rítsarnt life as the dishevelled appearance of a once beautiful woman bounced off the shield of Qi now floating above them. Rather than falling, however, she instead landed on all fours and growled at the party.

"Mantaléna" Breathed Lord Rítsarnt In horror.

Deep into the formation, Chrys still felt a pang of sympathy for the Lord, as the beast that had once been his wife snarled at them. Still, that sympathy was only for Rítsarnt. For the former Lady Mantaléna, there was only the cold rage of the Clan against those that would prey upon others.

Channelling that rage into the formation, Chrys watched as the hoplite's ephemeral spear swung outwards to slam into Mantaléna and knocked her backwards into the shadows of the mansion.

For any other group of cultivators, this might have given them pause, as their opponent had already shown an affiliation to attacking from the darkness. However, as the Clan's Hoplite solidified, it began to burn bright, banishing the darkness. Quite literally following the light, the party followed after Mantaléna, making sure to keep Lord Rítsarntand Galavant in the centre.

With each step forwards, Chrys lost themselves in the flow of Qi. Unlike in training, the Hoplite felt alive. It's existence a sun above them into which rose both their own Qi and that of their allies. Yet, at the same time, the Qi fell around them. So used to their desert life Chrys found themselves unable to describe the sensation initially; until, from somewhere deep inside them, stirred a memory utterly foreign. Of rain.

The vision shifted, and a dark spike of malignant Qi struck the edge of the formation before being forced back. The Qi around Chrys continued onwards, raising upwards into the sun before returning to the ground. Even as the Core had struck out at the invasion, the rest of the Qi had bent around it. Not away. But around.

It was a river—a river not of water or blood but Qi. And Chrys was the river.

The malignant Qi attacked again, and this time Chrys flowed with the river. Not just a source but also the current.

----------------------

A/N: I'm done here. This arc took way too long in the end. I learned a lot, and I can now focus on what I like about Chrys, but I just want to move on, so it's time for a time skip with the critical bit done.

When next I write Chrys it will be at a funeral.