Gaius Antonius Omake #75 - The Day of Fate, Part 4: The Pinnacle
Impossible. That was the first thought that crossed Gaius' mind as he crossed the threshold, and the narrow tunnel opened up into a massive, broad vista.
The tenth chamber was truly massive. Perhaps ten miles across, it featured a small forest, a hill, a valley, a river and even a miniature castle up on the hill. Waves of soft grass, green as it was in the Yuan realm, swayed gently around The Seeker's feet, and the False Sun Crystals were so numerous against the vast walls and distant ceiling as to look like stars illuminating a night sky. He wasn't even sure where exactly the exit was. He couldn't get a clear view of the opposite wall behind the forest and the hill, and it would be fairly long trek to get there. Even at top speed Earth Gliding, it would take long enough that the air in both his bubble and his air tank would be used up.
"This can't be right…" Gaius mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully and raising squinting eyes to the sky. "I'm only a couple miles down, that can't be deep enough to fit a ceiling that high. Is it an illusion?" Such foolishness to even ask; the Caves were beyond his understanding, beyond Old Gold's, beyond, perhaps, anyone besides the Soup Chef.
What was not unclear was the floor's obstacle. As if angered with Gaius for skipping past the previous Floor Guardians, this one had multiplied the last a hundred-fold. Qi-Draining Bats clung to the distant ceiling in the thousands, thousands more dwelled in a thousand small alcoves along the chamber's walls, and yet more emerged from within the forest. Gaius couldn't hope to accurately count the number.
There was only one word to describe them: a horde. A ludicrous, titanic number of enemies, an apocalyptic endeavor to test an overachiever who would cross the realm gap. No, there was another word, actually: a Legion. Clan doctrine dictated that a Legion of Devils must contain no less than one thousand and no more than ten thousand soldiers. This fell within that range, or maybe even exceeded it. Given the sheer size of the arena and the average density of the bats, ten thousand was a reasonable estimate.
Konstantinos Papadopoulos, the only person to take the test on Floor 10, had described an encounter with one thousand enemies, an encounter which had pushed him to the limits and taken two days to complete. This was definitely more than one thousand enemies - had the caves adjusted, made the challenge harder in response to Konstantinos? Or was this army designed specifically to test Gaius, tuned for his capabilities?
"Scylla, rise and shine!" Gaius shouted. Immediately, the Sacred Carp leapt into the air and transformed, becoming a False Rainbow Carp. "The easy shit's all over now!" He grinned, drawing a sword and dagger once more. Golden light infused the Gravebronze as he prepares to cast the Aegis at a moment's notice.
"My blood boils, brother!" Scylla exclaimed joyfully.
"Just three more doors! These dregs are nothing, and they will fall like nothing!"
Before the man and beast, a wave of screaming, gnashing death approached. Gaius Antonius of the Golden Devils, son of Hong Xuan Liu Fei, looking every inch like a hero of old, leapt into Scylla's back and took an aggressive stance. "You're damn right!
LET'S START THE PARTY!"
With a prodigious force, Scylla flew straight ahead and sprayed a wide cone of Dragonfire, dousing what must have been a hundred of the bats in a single burst. Then she did it again, diving under the screaming, howling horde to spray them a second time. The burning beasts thrashed about, crashing into one another as they tried to snuff out the flames, but Dragonfire is a persistent thing; they only succeeded in spreading it further.
Having evidently learned their lesson about clustering together, the swarm spread out, beginning to surround the duo in a wide net, leaving no place without enemies they could escape to. Scylla just busted through, opening her mouth wide and biting three bats in two, as Gaius' sword took out several more. With more screeching beasts hot on her tail, the Rainbow Carp soared higher and higher, climbing up into the sky at an eye-watering velocity.
A Rainbow Carp's flight is more sophisticated than anything mere wings could provide, and thus Scylla outmaneuvered her pursuers at every turn, giving Gaius the time he needed. Reaching into his pouch, Gaius retrieved the strands of Darksilk, now braided into a thin rope, and unsheathed his dagger. Half a minute of work as Scylla continued dodging and blasting, and he had the rope wound tightly around the dagger, and another five feet left other. That wasn't enough for his purposes, but thankfully Gaius also had ordinary wire, and tied that to the end of the Darksilk.
"If Lipita saw this kinda shoddy work, she'd have a conniption." Gaius chuckled, giving his knife-on-a-string a few experimental spins.
"Jokes, now!?"
"This is a battlefield. High spirits are as important to victory as any weapon."
"Your spirits are too high, go and kill already!"
"Tyrannical as ever." He smirked. With the contraption now spun up to speed, Gaius poured weapon qi down the string and into the dagger, then threw it.
The effect was immediate and potent. The dagger, guided by Gaius' technique and the Darksilk's own nature, sought out one foe after another, making sharp turns and piercing through a dozen bats in a row, then reversing its course and returning to Gaius' hand. The monsters fell to the ground in near-perfect sync, and Gaius spun the weapon up again.
"Not bad, not bad at all!" he laughed, throwing the dagger again and piercing through another ten enemies. "We might just survive!"
"Of course we will! They're fighting for their lives, we're just having fun!" Scylla roared, blasting another dozen bats out of the air with a compact spray of liquid fire.
The primary benefit of a Great Realm is not power.
That might sound like lunacy, but it was true. A difference in raw power can be made up in any number of ways, and so that alone would not account for the sheer dominance a higher great realm provides. That word, 'dominance', is the key.
Because qi is creation itself, every Cultivator is a tiny creator god, and thus one's qi naturally dominates the qi of those in a lesser Great Realm. When a Qi Condensation technique clashes against a Foundation Building technique, the former will lose no matter what.
A False Foundation Building doesn't have that primacy, that dominance. It only has the superficial advantages of a Foundation Building; more power and speed. Gaius was in the Thirteenth Heavenstage: his physical power was at least as great as a False Foundation's, his speed and endurance not far behind. Scylla was temporarily a False Foundation herself. Both of their cultivation was elevating a far more impressive baseline performance than that of these bats.
Furthermore, these were animals, not true Cultivators. They did not possess techniques beyond any abilities granted by their crude natural mutations, nor did they have the intelligence to utilize effective tactics.
All of these factors, added together, turned a suicidal battle into one that could feasibly be won. However, it would not be without heroic effort.
Finally getting the hint that they could not safely approach the duo, the swarm of bats backed away and tried another tactic: bombardment. In scores at a time, they inflated their bellies and fired off wild, blue-white blasts of raw qi. Vomiting up pure qi is certainly an inefficient method of attack compared to shaping a real offensive technique, but in such numbers it became a deadly assault.
Scylla dodged the fire in complex corkscrew patterns, and Gaius dove off her back so as not to be flung off. The last he heard of his companion for the moment was the hydrauling hissing sound of her spraying another blast of Dragonfire. Putting his dagger-on-a-string away, Gaius shielded his body as he collided with a bat in mid-air, seizing it by the wings and holding it below him. Several other bats collided with the falling Gaius' impromptu shield, but in just a few seconds he was free of the swarm.
Hitting the ground, Gaius instantaneously wrapped the Aegis around himself and sunk right through, slowing to a gentle stop over a few seconds. There was no time to waste, of course, given Scylla's time limit, so he resurfaced in the forest, drew a sword and dagger and began fighting on the ground. In moments, he was swarmed by nearby bats, and more distant ones began to close in.
Not having the time to dive back down, Gaius simply fought like hell. He used the trees as cover, hemming his assailants in so that only ten or so at a time could reach him, rather than hundreds at once. It was still a true test of reflexes and endurance, but it was one he could possibly pass. Wherever The Seeker went, he found new bats waiting in the trees to ambush him, and they melded into the endless tide chasing him, making the enemy feel truly endless.
Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike. Strike. With extreme ferocity and masterful precision, The Seeker cut through any beast that strayed too close, bringing down several hundred bats in a few minutes, until the horde backed off enough, buying him a few free seconds. Putting away the sword and dagger, Gaius instead drew a spear and shield to replace them.
The
hoplon was not his implement of choice - the three foot bronze disk simply didn't suit his usual methods, and the Aegis meant he had no need for a physical barrier either way. But for this endeavor, he needed to prepare for every situation, be equipped to fight under ruinous exhaustion and the bare minimum of fighting shape. The Qi-Draining Bats would simply eat the Aegis if it were used as a static barrier rather than an attack, so in this circumstance, metal served The Seeker better.
Leaping into the air, Gaius spun and swung his six pound spear as if it weighed no more than a thin tree branch, cutting down two bats in midair and smashing the haft into several more. A group of several bats clustered up to fire a beam at Gaius, who raised his shield to weather the attack, then threw his spear in retaliation, spearing three more enemies and immediately pulling it back to his hand.
He landed, exited the forest and ran up the hill at full tilt, sparing a moment to look to his left. It was impossible to miss Scylla, streaking through the air and tearing through her assailants several at a time with her teeth, swatting them down with her tail, and dousing them in liquid fire. She was doing fine; better to worry for himself, then. Gaius raised his shield to deflect the talons of a bat, then bashed its head in. He dodged to the side to avoid another blast, then impaled a swooping beast before it could reach him. Little by little, Gaius killed his way through anything put before him.
Finally having some relative space, he sunk into the surface of the hill, diving into the center and then ascending straight up, surfacing right in front of the castle's gates. Not wishing to be surrounded against the wall, Gaius clambered up the gates with relative ease, balancing and leaping off the tiniest little outcroppings, or even just friction against the thick, rough wood. Darting to the left to avoid another swooping attack, Gaius latched onto the top of the gate - only to nearly lose his grip as a qi blast struck him in the back. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he swung himself up onto the castle wall and planted his feet against the towering enemy.
"Four minutes. Scylla turns back in four minutes, and that's when it gets tough…" Blocking several more blasts, Gaius thrust his spear above the lip of his shield, piercing enemy after enemy and sending them plummeting to the ground. Every once in a while, he would whirl around, swinging his spear to intercept an attack from behind, then returning to the Hoplite stance facing a new direction. He mixed the rigid, regimented fighting of the traditional Legionnaire with his own wild, creative improvisation, ripping through the horde at a constant pace. Still, when taking into account the size of the enemy force, it felt achingly slow.
There were more effective ways Gaius could fight this battle. He could use the Twin Sala Trees and fire off soul attacks left and right. He could utilize his Celestial Bronze dagger more, channeling blasts of Sword Qi and swinging the Aegis around as a blunt, blisteringly fast weapon. The problem lay in his own stamina; he was one man, with one set of meridians, one pair of lungs and one musculoskeletal system. Any tactic which would tire him out quickly, or even use more stamina than the minimum amount required, was right out. If he got too tired, he was dead.
And so, The Seeker simply shed rivers of blood in unsophisticated fashion, creeping slowly across the castle wall, killing anything that approached and giving ground a few inches at a time as the stone was turned to rubble by the cacophonous blasts of the bats.
"Two minutes. Make it count, partner." Gaius muttered through gritted teeth as he braced his shield against five bats at once, the small group attempting to rip the
hoplon away with their combined strength. Turning to face another group of bats, Gaius instantaneously cast the Aegis overtop of his physical shield, the repulsive force blasting his attackers away from him and into their fellows with bone-breaking force, sending all of them falling to the ground.
"Come on! I'm right here, come get me!"
----
Far to the north, in a major city in Time Shatter territory, stood the Palace of Frozen Memories. Equal parts ornate and austere, the palace's towers thinned into crystalline spires as they went off, before spinning out into the fourth dimension, where they all connected to one another. In these towers, all manner of brilliant scientific minds conducted arcane experiments, to advance the Sect's knowledge just a little bit farther.
This was not a mindless pursuit for knowledge's own sake, as the Noble Knowledge Sect did, but a search for greater understanding of the physical laws. A seemingly-useless equation could, one hundred years down the line lead to a 10% increase in the efficiency of Time Arts. For the sake of mastering this supreme domain and attaining true immortality, the work continued unabated.
Far below the palace, in the basement, and the sub-basement, and the sub-sub-basement and so on, less savory experiments were conducted. These were the secret projects, the ones which had to be kept under wraps, either to preserve morale or to protect it from spies. In this place, all manner of creatures died in agony as new versions of techniques were clinically assessed, and alchemists played with the rarest of regents in hopes of discovering superior elixirs.
It was said that idealists worked in the towers, and cynics worked in the basement, and Shi Jiang was nothing if not a cynic. For years now, his private army of scholars and physicians had painstakingly studied Hong Xuan Fang Tai's body, mind and soul, documenting the changes over time and using all manner of equipment to learn more about the Dao Magic that had tainted him. Their study of Kings had advanced in leaps and bounds, leading to many promising new theorems which warranted further research.
Being a scientist himself, Shi Jiang wished he could have taken part in the research, but he remained, as always, a warrior first. As one of the Attendants, raised and trained to serve The Flowing King, Wei An, he always had been. And while there was no more need for Attendants, his skills had been needed for more important matters. He smiled fondly, remembering how he'd bamboozled that Devil King and his men for so long. That had been a fun excursion, if a stressful one.
The sound of his shoes softly hitting the smooth white tiles echoed off the walls ever so slightly, magnifying his footsteps and making a subtle approach impossible. Swerving around scurrying assistants and servants, Shi Jiang came upon a familiar face.
Sitting cross-legged with a long-barreled pipe held languidly between her index and middle fingers, a stern-faced woman looked Shi Jiang up and down. Dark, sharp eyes paired perfectly with a long, thin nose, giving her a scholarly, dignified look. She was dressed plainly, in well-fitted blue clothes with no loose accessories, save for a silver hairpin which held her hair in a tight bun.
"You seem in good health." The woman said, patting the seat beside her on a simple wooden bench. "You made it just in time for the procedure."
"I told you there was nothing to worry about, Jinhua." He grumbled, taking a seat. "I'm enough to handle any known King now, and he wasn't even in the top three."
"And the data?"
"Safe and sound, obviously!" Shi Jiang huffed and crossed his arms. "I'd lose a hand before I lose that - a hand can grow back. The operation was a success."
Chen Jinhua's eyebrow crept up her face, and her mouth quirked up on one side. "And my present?"
Shi Jiang slipped a hand under his collar and scratched at a half-scarred over cut on his neck. "Got you an old burnt-out trinket; no use as a power source, but deeply contaminated. I'm sure you could do something with it. Left it with Old Knuckleface, go pick it up whenever you want."
Research, investigation and espionage are ultimately one and the same, thought Shi Jiang. Gather data, fill the gaps in your understanding until the picture becomes clear. Even if one undertaking doesn't fully elucidate the truth, it is still a valuable step forward.
Chen Jinhua's cordial smile grew a bit more manic, then, a hint of genuine glee creeping into her clipped voice. "Progress on one front is steady, then. Time to see if we can get anything else out of this one."
"Has he at least calmed down, now that the wait is over?" Shi Jiang asked, the light glinting off his piercings as he shook his head in frustration.
"Indeed he has." She responded, gesturing to a sliding door, behind which the procedure had begun. Chen Jinhua had always been exacting in her standards, this way. Everything had to line up just right, no unwanted variables or unnecessary risks. "His troubles seem to get worse and worse as time goes on, but he never once considered quitting."
"But of course. The sort of man who'd quarrel with a King would have to be stubborn himself." Shi Jiang replied. "Is he ready for the Wall Breaking Miracle yet?"
"Almost. The acupuncture's going slow; he's having trouble adjusting to the regulatory effect."
"One thing after another with this guy. Maybe he could use some encouragement." The scarred warrior concluded with a shrug, getting up and sliding open the door. Shi Jiang stepped across the threshold, revealing Fang Tai, face down on a stone table and gripping the edge as a physician pierced his body over and over. There were over a dozen needles, pierced precisely into critical points all over his lower back, and many more remained on a small side-table, waiting to be used. "Not the most pleasant sensation, I take it?"
"I deserve it…" The Hong Xuan scion mumbled despondently. "This is what I get for being so weak."
"Don't be so glum right before the procedure." Shi Jiang nagged him, pacing around the table. "Your desire to live will help you get through it."
It was like this, day after day. Fang Tai bounced between deep melancholy, shivering dread and spiteful venom. Yet, for all the blackness of his moods, and for as painful and invasive as the many tests on his body had been, he had indeed never once thought of quitting. Despite everything, Fang Tai's survival instincts remained strong.
"It feels strange, looking at it from this close." Fang Tai sighed, looking across the room. Indeed, there it was; a thick, solid steel door which seemed incongruous with the otherwise decently furnished basement. "It's like staring at my own casket."
"It's not a casket, it's a cradle. It's where your life will start again." Shi Jiang's voice grew more gentle, as if he were urging on a hesitant child.
"A new life…" A wistful, nostalgic look overtook the scion's face, a rare sight in recent days.
"Didn't I tell you this would work out in your favor, Fang Tai?" Shi Jiang smirked. "You've earned your reward."
"I'll thank you if it all works." Fang Tai said through gritted teeth as yet another needle was driven into his back. Nineteen now with more to go, the puncture points were beginning to form an image, like a constellation.
"Don't be so pessimistic; you've got a strong, sturdy body. That'll serve you well in there." Said Shi Jiang, jerking his thumb in the direction of the Wall Breakinf Miracle's entrance.
Fang Tai grumbled something under his breath, evidently not in the mood to continue the day's conversation. Several more needles were driven in, the physician on duty working silently and diligently, not off by even a millimeter. Little by little, the shape took form, an abstract series of four crescents surrounding the dantian from behind.
"Are we done yet?" The patient asked, trying not to squirm. "There can't be more of these."
Shi Jiang patted Fang Tai on the shoulder and beckoned him to stand. "Nah, you're done." Turning to the door, he snapped his fingers, prompting the arrays etched into the door to light up. The spirit-steel doors parted slowly, opening up just enough to let Fang Tai in. With fearful steps, he entered, and the physician followed after.
The room was little more than a spirit-steel lined cube with thick leather pads lining the walls and floor; more like a prison than anything else. False Sun Crystal lamps set into the ceiling illuminated the room, casting it into a sterile, clinical mood. Near the ceiling, circular metal holes, each about a foot wide, lined the walls, evenly spaced with five in each. In the center sat an unusual medical contraption, built solely for this purpose. A many-limbed collection of struts and clamps, it resembled a torturer's equipment more than anything else.
"You know how the Wall Breaking Miracle works, but I'll explain the specifics now." Shi Jiang called out from just outside the doorway, raising his voice slightly to be heard. "You'll be held in this harness for your own protection. It'll keep you in a position suitable for cycling. The acupuncture needles in your back form the shape of an array, which will force your lungs and meridians into a cycling pattern." His finger flicked up, pointing toward the metal holes. "Those pumps are the key to all of this. Spirit Stones held in an airtight box are broken, releasing the qi inside, and the qi-filled air is pumped into this room."
The test subject sighed, struggling to retain much hope in the face of what looked like an elaborate deathtrap. Shi Jiang couldn't help but sympathize; the chamber looked like an absolute nightmare. They would need to find ways of making the procedure feel less 'bug pinned to the wall under a lens' - psychological comfort helped in medicine, after all. "In other words, my body is forced to cultivate, and my mind is excluded from the process." Fang Tai's fist clenched, though trembles still wracked his body. "What Gaius did to me won't matter, his influence won't disrupt my cycling."
The Time Shatter warrior nodded, giving his subject a brief look of sympathy. "That's correct. This was all conceived to help our most promising Juniors break through bottlenecks, when nothing else works. It hasn't been approved for mass production yet." The physician, now done restraining Fang Tai, left the room, and the doors began to grind closed. "Cultivation requires determination. You've lost yours, so you'll put your body on the line to get it back."
The doors shut, leaving Fang Tai to face this trial alone. A loud grinding noise resounded above their heads, from what they knew to be one of twenty identical large metal boxes. A hissing sound soon followed, as the arrays inside pressurized the air, forcing the qi within down through a metal pipe and into the main chamber. To Shi Jiang's approval, he couldn't even sense the qi being moved around, so perfect was the insulation.
No one could be sure what would emerge from that chamber in a week's time. It could very well be a corpse, or perhaps it would be a brand new man.
----
The sounds of frenzied violence - ripping flesh, shattering bone, splattering blood, raging, crackling qi - echoed loudly up and down the narrow corridors of the castle. Gaius took a blast on his shield and cursed, feeling a numbness beginning to creep up his left arm. This was a miniature castle, an exact 1:3 replica or so, which meant the hallways were much smaller. There was room for perhaps two fully armed and armored men to stand side by side, giving Gaius far less room to dodge than he would like.
The upside, of course, was that his enemies could not dodge either. After the outer wall had become too wrecked to hold, he had baited the bats into the castle itself, funneling them until they could only attack a few at a time. With every attack, Gaius slew an enemy, constantly moving so as to not be overwhelmed. There was no overarching strategy to be had here, just the careful management of his endurance.
That said, while Gaius' stamina was holding up thus far, the same could not be said for his weapon. The Gravebronze in this spear was rated for Centurion use, true, but such heavy strain over the course of one battle wore on its structural weak points, bending the head and the shaft little by little.
Finally, the moment Gaius knew was coming occurred - the head of his spear broke off entirely, leaving him with a simple rod of bronze. Snarling in frustration, he swung it like the rod it was, bludgeoning two more bats before throwing it and braining a third. Darting down another hallway, he dodged under another blast and plucked his second spear off his back with telekinesis, spinning around to slay the offending bat.
Being surrounded is very dangerous, for the simple reason that the human body can only fight what is in front of it. Techniques to attack one's back exist, of course, but all of these techniques must account for the lack of awareness one has of what's behind them. In other words, they sacrifice power for accuracy.
Gaius stabbed a bat, then pulled his spear back, jabbing the butt directly into the head of another bat behind him. He thrust again, hitting a third bat, then pulled back, hitting a fourth.
For The Seeker, such rules did not apply. In this relatively narrow hallway, with only two directions for foes to come from, his acute senses could handle this challenge. In particular, his pulsing qi radar, developed from eighty years of Earth-Gliding, told him exactly where to hit without having to look. Another hundred fell, then another hundred after that. The corpses piled up, leaving the beasts with less room to maneuver.
Perhaps driven by some implanted directive, or perhaps acting randomly due to their consistent failure to bring Gaius down, one of the bats tilted is head upward, firing a qi bolt into the ceiling. Other bats followed, haphazardly blasting the whole area - mostly in Gaius' general direction. He blocked several, but soon came to the realization that the sheer coverage was too wide to defend against - he needed to move.
More blasts were fired off, and as Gaius kept dodging, he soon realized that the bats weren't even trying that hard to aim. The target of their sheer volume of fire was not him, but the castle itself. Shot after shot rang out, smashing the stones and bringing the ceiling crashing down. Gaius dove into the earth and popped up in an adjacent hallway, only for that one to also be barraged. Tired of being corralled and whittled away, whatever primal intelligence drove the Floor Guardians compelled them to simply lay waste to the whole castle.
"Too many! There's too fucking many!" Gaius growled, leaving the castle behind and heading for the forest again. He drank deeply from his breathing mask, breaths beginning to grow ragged. "But I gotta admit, it's pretty fun!"
----
The Wall Breaking Miracle's chance of success came down to more than physics and biology; the psychological condition of the patient was also crucial. Thus, it was designed to look as appealing as such an unpleasant could possibly be, by hiding many of the components. All Fang Tai had seen of the chamber was its entrance and the interior, as all of the other apparati which enabled it to function were connected to it from one floor up.
Here, in an out-of-the-way area, was an unadorned stone room lined with various regulating devices, like a bunch of iron guts stuffed inside a ribcage. The boxes full of spirit stones were here, grinding mechanisms loudly crunching from within. There were also array-switches which could reduce or increase airflow, lighting, or the height and angle of the harness. There was even a new device, still in its early stages and frustrating energy-inefficient, which automatically produced a spiritual Jade recording every fifteen minutes.
"Gotta say, Jinhua, I don't like this configuration. Feels inhuman." Shi Jiang muttered with his hands on his hips.
"There's nothing inhuman about vertical integration, you fuddy-duddy. It's efficient." Jinhua aughed, sticking out her tongue at him.
He replied with an expression of mild disdain. "Yeah, well I'd rather have something less efficient, all on one floor, where we can keep an eye on everything at once."
"That's what delegation is for."
"You know I don't like to delegate."
"Uugh, just relax for a little while, damn you!" Chen Jinhua groaned, punching her friend on the arm.
Shi Jiang took a seat on one of the benches along the walls. These were meant for technicians to take a quick break, but frankly, he had nothing to do but wait. He held a hand out, and in seconds a ceramic cup of coffee was placed into his hand. He took a sip and smiled - hot, black and bitter, just how he liked it.
Here, one floor up, all of the external equipment that made the Wall Breaking Miracle function could be seen, all perfectly lined up, several technicians flitting from box to box, making sure everything was running properly. So much fuss, to make one man cycle; the Wall Breaking Miracle would never be mass produced. Even if it exceeded expectations, a limited number would be created, for the most valuable of VIP's, because it simply required too many man-hours otherwise.
"Since his condition is particularly severe, we're doing it in stages." Chen Jinhua explained, taking a seat next to Shi Jiang. "One by one, we turn on the boxes and pump the qi air in, while pumping the dead air out. That will give him about three hours to gradually adjust before he's taking in full saturation."
"He's just lucky he was close to the Twelfth Heavenstage already." The Attendant sighed, taking a swig of the bitter liquid. "One week; at this concentration, a week should be enough to get him there."
"It's a shame we couldn't just pump in something denser, rather than put him through such an extended procedure." Chen Jinhua sighed, resting her head on one hand and looking at the Miracle's door in pity. "He might lose his mind, more than he already has."
Shi Jiang threw up his arms in exasperation. "Right? It'd be so much less strenuous if the guy could just work with the procedure, but it simply isn't possible. Too high a concentration will just kill him."
"To be reduced to a state like that by another Qi Condensation…" She rubbed her eyes, which were bruised from several recent sleepless days. Of all the Cultivators working in this facility, she was no doubt the most dedicated of all. "I can scarcely imagine it."
"Even now, he doesn't seem to understand what kind of man he involved himself with. I suppose he couldn't." Shi Jiang mumbled through a mouthful of rice, pausing to swallow as the second box began loudly grinding up its payload. "Gaius Antonius is the kind of man who does the impossible on the regular, the kind who destiny both loves and hates."
"So you're saying Gaius could become a Nascent Soul?" Chen Jinhua mused, tapping her chin.
"Nascent Soul?" Shi Jiang chuckled, eyebrow quirked up in amusement. "You just don't get it; you've never seen a King, after all. There's lots of Nascent Souls, even in a dried-up Sea like this. He's a cut above the rest of humanity."
He sighed, recalling as he did nearly every day the face of his King. The man who he had failed. Shi Jiang's fingers brushed over his scar, remembering the sword stroke which would have beheaded him, if not for Wei An's help. He remembered the otherworldly confidence and focus of that man, and the sense of purpose with which he faced the world.
"He'll yoke history to his wagon if he lives long enough; people like that won't accept anything else."
----
A sword, broken halfway down the blade, plunged into the side of a bat's neck. Before the enemy could get away, Gaius grabbed it by the head and pushed harder, forcing the blade all the way through. Another enemy fell. How many had it been, and how many hours had he been fighting? Gaius greedily sucked in air, looking up to see the remaining bats, still well over a thousand, congregating together for a last-ditch swarm attack.
"I think they've finally all come out…" Gaius said weakly, throwing the ruined sword aside. "None of them are hiding, they know we're on our last legs, and want to take us out now with full force." Rather than despair, what lit up The Seeker's face was an exhilarated grin, the triumphant look of someone who had opened a path to victory. "Perfect."
The time for the trump card came. One last burst of strength, to finish off an enemy that thought themselves victorious. Gaius overturned the pouch, dumping ten Mid-Grade stones into the water. Wasteful to be sure, but Scylla's qi reserves filled back up in seconds. With this much, she could reinforce her body enough to withstand breaking her rule. Glowing from within from the sheer pace of her cycling, Scylla leapt out of her tank again.
For the second time that day, Gaius' companion transformed and took to the sky. This was not like before, where the pair fought to get their bearings and scope their enemy out. Now, with nearly all of them exposed, it was time to kill.
Fire wreathed the Rainbow Carp's body, and she flew at top speed, ramming into as many bats as possible. She took out nearly a hundred on her first pass, then turned around and blasted through a hundred more. Gaius finally used his abilities to the fullest, wreathing his thread in the Aegis and flinging it faster than ever before. In uncanny, impossible patterns it zig-zagged through the air, spearing enemy after enemy. Gaius was all too aware of how low his tank was getting, but he didn't care anymore - the goal was so close.
All of the remaining bats grouped together into a colossal amalgamate, like a primitive formation, and blasted Scylla in unison. The crude attack slammed into the massive fish with unstoppable force, blasting through her technique and sending her flying back, tumbling across the ground toward Gaius. He threw up an Aegis to catch his companion, who quickly regained her bearings.
Gaius, strength flagging, climbed atop Scylla's back as she rose into the air again. "Come on, just one more push."
"Worry about yourself, brother. I could go for years." Scylla chuckled, rising up until she was level with the huge ball of bats.
"Is it time for the trump card?"
The chittering, fluttering swarm glowed a blinding blue-white as the attack flared up again, stronger than before, to destroy them both completely. Gaius raised both hands, flowering branches poking through his skin all over, pushing the Twin Sala Trees so their absolute highest sustainable output.
"Sure is! Give me everything, Scylla! One long stream, until it's all dried up!" He cried, and the Rainbow Carp did as he commanded, filling Gaius' body up to the brim with qi, which he poured into a soul attack. The spiritual shockwave hit the swarm before they could fire and threw them into disarray. The combined beam shot off to the side, missing Gaius and Scylla by a few feet, and many individual beams fired off inside the group, causing even more chaos.
Gaius emptied his tank incredibly fast, using up all of the donated qi in just a few seconds, but Scylla kept supplying more, which he poured into the attack. One final burst, to kill one thousand enemies at once. The flawless, unbreakable will of a Thirteenth Heavenstage bored into the souls of the Spirit Beasts, and found them wanting, snuffing them out dozens at a time. A rain of corpses fell from the swarm, which had grown too disorganized to flee or even break up. Bats snapped at one another, driven blind and senseless by the pain, more and more dying with every passing second.
With one last burst of effort, Gaius raised the intensity again, finally overwhelming the horde. Their squirming and thrashing died down, and those which still remained in the air finally fell, lifeless.
Amongst the corpses, two living bodies also fell. With the last of her strength, Scylla turned their freefall into a more controlled descent, dumping Gaius off her back when they reached the ground and rushing back into her tank, just as the transformation ran out. It was over.
All was still and quiet. No more shrieks or chitters pierced the air, and no killing intent could be felt. This bloodsoaked battleground had transformed, all at once, into a place of respite. The grass was soft, softer than anything which grew in the desert or the mountains. Was this what the fields in the Green Scale Plains felt like? Gaius closed his eyes for a very, very long blink, and when they opened he felt a tiny bit less tired and a lot more sore.
How many hours had he lost just now? He sat up, looking around - the bats were back, evenly spaced across the ceiling same as before, but they ignored the victorious entrant completely. "Scylla? Scylla, we survived, right?" Gaius wheezed, fruitlessly trying to wipe some dried blood off his face with an equally crimson-stained hand. "We really did it? Oh, I'm so tired. I'd throw up but I don't have the vigor to spare."
——
At some point, Gaius' armor was removed. He couldn't for the life of him recall how it had happened - perhaps Scylla had undone the clasps for him, or perhaps his body had done it instinctually as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Either way, it now felt a little less exhausting to be alive, but it remained a struggle to stay awake. By this point, no good would come of lying here and sleeping some more; He needed a better place, better conditions. He also needed to pick up his reward; what if he took too long, and wasn't allowed to collect?
After a minute of working up the motivation, Gaius got onto his hands and knees and crawled toward the burbling river. More of a creek, honestly - this chamber was big, but everything was just small enough to give away that it was a simulation. Gaius was reminded of the big, elaborate war games they would play at the academy; those were everyone's favorite days. Lowering his head to the water, he slowly drank, not caring that it was dirty.
His throat parched, Gaius began to splash himself, washing some of the blood off his hands and face. Unsatisfied with the results, he grabbed Scylla's barrel and unceremoniously dumped her into the river, then waded in himself. The cold shock ran up his body in an instant like an electric jolt, prompting some more focus to return. He took a deep breath and toppled backwards, allowing himself to be fully submerged. The river was perhaps five feet deep at this point, though it probably got deeper in other places, and it didn't move too fast either. Even a desert-dweller wasn't in much danger of drowning here.
Gaius' hair floated around his head like flames, and the blood on his clothes and skin drifted away into a red cloud. Something slippery rubbed up against his face, and Gaius turned to see Scylla, pleased at the rare chance to be with Gaius in her own environment. He reached up a hand and stroked her behind the gills, grateful for this blessed, peaceful moment.
Eventually, a Cultivator also has to come up for air, and when Gaius resurfaced, the icy feeling of the air on his wet skin made him shiver. But, more than that, it made him feel alive. This amazing sensation, this enjoyment of simply being alive, is something only felt by young children and victorious warriors.
"This really is amazing." Gaius smiled, tickling his squirming companion on the belly. "It was so hard, staying faithful, staying dedicated. Most people start getting lax in their training after a while, you know." Gaius smiled, clenching his hand, feeling the reliable solidity he had forged.
"They train six a week for fifty, sixty years, and figure they're fine. Their improvement gets slower the better they get, no matter the skill; they think 'What would be the point, continuing the fundamentals like this?' They focus on their arts, the things that make them feel strong." He shook his head in disapproval, remembering the dozens of would-be champions, unorthodox strivers, and would-be Kings he had beaten in his life. "Real power isn't born from half-assing things like that; training the fundamentals improves everything, even by tiny amounts. More importantly, it hones the mind."
That was the key to it, the key to the strength Gaius had demonstrated today, the proof that every single day of self-improvement had been worth it. Doing something that feels bad, every single day. Doing something that doesn't seem to be paying off; something that makes you feel hopeless as you go five years without visible change.
There was a fable, amongst the Golden Devils, of a Spirit Severing Cultivator named Sisyphus. Too afraid to make the final Severing, Sisyphus begged his Law Creation friend, Thanatos, for help. With this aid, Sisyphus remained alive past the limits of his natural lifespan, but the world suffered. As nothing could die, life could not go on; insects and vermin multiplied out of control, wild beasts could not be slain, and the most elder mortals, so old their bodies could no longer function, suffered in half-living agony.
The Earl of Bronze commanded Thanatos to stop this foolishness, and so he did, killing Sisyphus. As punishment for the havoc he had caused, Sisyphus' soul was captured before it could escape, and bound to a construct in a quarry. Reduced to a Foundation Building-level body, the condemned was commanded to pull a cart laden with Spirit Stones and precious minerals to the top of a mountain every day, in hopes he would be released. Instead, each time the foreman would unload his cart and kick it down the mountain, making Sisyphus go back down and fill it up again.
This torment would drive anyone mad, and indeed, Sisyphus lost his sanity for a time. He became a husk, incapable of enlightenment or peace. But then, the fool realized the error of his ways, and something changed.
Sisyphus was happy. Freed of his arrogance, the construct once more realized the beauty of laboring in the name of the Clan. He re-learned the joy of giving oneself to one's nation completely, and this eased his pain. Rather than be freed of the punishment, the condemned found salvation in realizing it was a reward, and after one million years, his soul passed on peacefully.
That was where strength was found, thought Gaius. Like Sisyphus, one must learn to take joy in doldrum, in suffering for a cause. To not power through difficult things, but embrace them like a lover. As a reward for having transcended the despair of diminishing returns, new dimensions of mastery had opened up before Gaius' eyes.
"I'm strong. Still not enough, though." Gaius said, climbing out of the river to get dressed again. "Once I'm out of here, it'll still be every day."
——
The reward was underwhelming in appearance, compared to the trial which came before. Another one of those stone totems, this one was made unique by its red markings, seemingly nonsensical lines which didn't fit any known array-script Gaius had heard of.
"Come on, I'm too tired for games…" Gaius grumbled, running his hands over the totem and looking for a switch. "Just give me the prize, damnit." As if obliging him, a clicking sound rang out within the stone and the mechanism began to move.
With a loud grinding, the totem's sections rotated independently until all the notches lined up, then locked together. The lines on each section began to slowly move on their own, flowing across the stone and linking up with each other, forming a series of characters - a message.
"To you who have reached the pinnacle, I entrust the truth."
From within the stone, a single glass vial emerged. Tiny and delicate, almost ceremonial, it held but a single drop of viscous, red liquid. With trembling, exhausted hands, Gaius cradled the little vial, carrying it into the remains of the castle.
After a few minutes of searching, he found a relatively undisturbed chamber and slumped against the wall. Illuminated by a single beam of dim light streaming through a hole in the ceiling, the Devil rested, pondering the little gift. "Just one drop. Am I supposed to drink this? Or is it meant for something else?"
He pondered for a moment, wondering, mostly in jest, if this was perhaps a single drop of Spirit Severing-level blood. That would probably just kill him on contact, right? No, it was for one who 'reached the pinnacle', so it couldn't be cultivation materials. And yet, he was meant to drink it all the same. Through unknown mechanisms, he was guided without fail to understand the meaning of each prize, even the less intuitive ones, and Gaius assumed this was also the work of the Caves. He would trust this inexplicable hunch, rather than carry the vial with him and risk it breaking.
With a soft
squeak, the top of the vial was unscrewed, and an incredibly pungent smell assaulted Gaius' nose. It was as if a lake of blood were contained within this single drop. The vial, half the size of one of his fingers, seemed unspeakably heavy in his hand, as he slowly raised the floor's prize to his lips. "I must Seek the truth. Show me what you're hiding."
The vial was tipped over, the drop of blood touched his tongue, and-
----
It was Tuesday, and Tuesday was noodle day. With practiced ease, you pulled your hair back into a braid, then made sure not a single stray facial hair had been missed by your razor - it would be unthinkable to let hair end up in the food. Your grooming finished, you sat down before a rustic fireplace and lit it with a snap of your fingers. With a wave of the hand, you summoned a black iron pot, then a cask of beef stock.
You hummed to yourself; a tune from your youth, one which had always brought you peace of mind. The motions of cooking food were meaningless - if you wished, you could conjure a mundane noodle soup with but a thought, and it would taste exactly as you envisioned. The act of cooking itself was the point, as always; enlightenment is a monument, built on individual, uncountable bricks.
You had just finished raising the stock to a simmer and adding the noodles when your door, disguised as a cave wall, creaked noisily open.
"So that's where it ended up." Said a man's voice, in a language you knew to originate from the Fifth Sea. Ah, so that was the source of the recent noise. You hadn't realized it was that time of the century again.
"You made quite a racket these last few months, stranger." You said, carefully observing the noodles as they slowly grew firmer. "Did you find success?"
"I did, though it was difficult." The stranger said, composing his voice into a diplomatic, aristocratic tone. "I was searching for a weapon that was lost in the struggle; I see it somehow found its way in here."
A Spirit Severing aura washed over your senses. Not a weak one, either; this man had made two Severings already. Whatever it was he'd cast off, you couldn't bring yourself to care, but you hoped it wasn't anything which would inhibit sensory pleasures. It had been a while since you sat someone down for a meal.
"Would you like to eat with me, stranger? As you can see, I'm cooking some nice soup here." You offered with genuine geniality. Anyone who wanted to eat with you was free to do so, of course. Enemy or ally, stranger or companion, saint or sinner, you would serve them all to the best of your ability. "Surely your soul alone is sufficient to serve as proctor for the rest of the year."
"I'm afraid I'm not taking such a passive role, good sir, so I must remain vigilant." The traveler said, smooth dulcet tones pouring from his mouth like cool spring water. A charm technique? Or perhaps he just had a natural, royal charisma.
"I was under the impression that these days, the Fifth Sea only sends their Spirit Severing practitioners out here as proctors..." You finally allowed your eyes to pass over the foreigner. A brawny, masculine specimen, long of beard and limb, he bore splotches of blue all over his skin, and was clearly wounded from a battle. His gold and silver armor was broken, covered in cracks and dents. Blood streamed from a destroyed left eye, and two fingers had been severed on his right hand. "But you're right - looking at this state you don't seem like a proctor. Indulge my curiosity, would you?"
The foreigner tilted his head, likely surprised that a non-Devil would know so much about the Centennial Trials. "That's correct; I'm not a proctor, my presence here is a special case."
"Really? In that case, what brought you this far?"
"Hunting."
"And what, perchance, was your quarry, hunter?"
"The Devils were hiding a Spirit Severing ancestor unbeknownst to us. That old man hid within this mountain for millenia, secretly running interference for his fellow monsters." The hunter explained, letting his gaze drift to the far wall, where a spear of dark grey stone rested. "He even had an ancestral treasure with him."
You didn't respond to the display, merely continuing to stir the pot before you. "So that old sponge was finally wrung out? Shame; I liked him."
"Are you going to interfere, good sir?" The hunter asked with a dangerous edge. Not quite hostile, still probing to try and gauge what sat before him. If only he knew. "The rules are clear: outsiders are not to interfere in the hunt. We have nothing to gain from your life, I must ask you to move along."
"My, my, such a busy man, you are!" You remarked, putting down your utensils to let the pot simmer. With rigid fastidiousness, you produced a washcloth, soaked in hot water and fresh soap, from nowhere, and began to clean your weathered hands. "You've got another three months, don't you? And you've got no more quarry you can legally kill! You can spare a day at half-strength - let your soul scout ahead, and sit your body down for a nice meal."
The swarthy man shook his head solemnly, heedless of the blood seeping from his ruined eyesocket, which drip-drip-dripped to the floor in a steady rhythm. "I cannot accept your offer, good sir. I am duty-bound to bring home as much karma as I can. There may be no more Spirit Severing Devils to personally enrich myself, but I can indirectly assist my Dynasty's Juniors. Furthermore, an ancient family treasure has been destroyed, and must be replaced. I ask you again, good sir; please move along."
"Replaced?" You muttered with a tilt of the head, pausing your hand-washing. "With that chopstick back there?" You jerked your thumb behind you, at the stone spear leaning against the wall. "I don't think you'd win much glory with that. It's made for eating, not fighting."
"I grow tired of your games, hermit!" The hunter shouted. "Just a few hours ago, a Bronze Devil brought that spear to bear against me! Even a lunatic like you must recognize its power at a glance - it is the equal of my very own Nine-Petal Vajra, which now lies shattered!"
Lunatic? Now that was just uncalled for, an unenlightened man like him questioning your sanity. You got to your feet, continuing to clean your hands until every speck of grime was gone, then banished the washcloth with a thought. Picking up the spear, you held it horizontally, running your fingers along the haft. Indeed, this chopstick was well-made, and artfully decorated. The swirling of pearlescent Dao Emanations, winding up and down the artifact like snakes, served only to highlight the artistry of its subtle engravings. But in the end…
"It really is just a chopstick." You insisted, twirling it between your fingers. "Whatever it was before, it's a chopstick now - I've eaten with it, after all. It, alongside my other stick, makes a pair." With a snap of your fingers, you summoned the other stick in question, a long, unadorned rod of smooth off-white birchwood, sharpened into a point on one end.
"I'm through with your games!" Yelled the hunter, drawing a round-headed mace and raising it to the sky. Bolt after bolt of lightning was summoned into the weapon, until the entire mace was alight with crackling blue. "I've won those spoils; hand over the spear and stand aside!"
You sighed, aghast at the foolish greed of the Main Path. Always lusting for resources, for magical resources. Greater strength only brought a greater lust for the bounties of earth and sky. "You people are all so unenlightened. It can't go on like this…" You muttered, shaking your head.
You drew the chopsticks back and-
A spider sucks the liquefied remains of its prey out of a web prison. Wolves rip apart a bison, and vultures swoop down to take what they leave behind. A whirlpool swallows up a ship, plunging her and her crew down to the ocean depths below. A star is dragged screaming into a black hole, unravelling into streamers of light and flame and spiralling into the event horizon.
There was no Fifth Sea hunter before you anymore. There never had been. What a shame, you thought, leaning your chopsticks against the wall and once more beginning to clean your hands. "All they do is bicker about riches. So boring."
You returned to your pot once more, lowering the heat by just a few degrees to maintain the perfect simmer. With a wave of your hand, you added some diced green onion on a whim. You liked to add the vegetables a step or two earlier than most cooks, to get them nice and soft. Noodle soups should be a collection of softness, broken up only for a specific purpose.
It wouldn't be much longer now. Everything was in its proper place, or soon to be. You'd have to move to a new hideout soon, as no doubt the Golden Devils would investigate the disturbance in a few months, but that was no big loss; you could do with a change of scenery anyway.
----
-an animal urge in the back of Gaius' brain bid his mouth and tongue to move of their own volition, spitting out the blood. The vast majority of the tainted, incredibly potent liquid spilled out onto the stone, which re-absorbed it like a sponge. Trace amounts, less than one-tenth, stuck fast to Gaius' tongue, and seeped into him.
Awareness returned, in fits and starts, to the Devil. He hugged his knees, shivering, as a bone-deep ache sunk into his body. Just that sliver, that single fragment of time, threatened to tear him apart. It was as if he'd swallowed broken glass, and could do nothing but endure the pain, hoping his body and soul could break down the sliver of Will before it killed him.
"Soup Chef. That was the Soup Chef, wasn't it?" He asked fruitlessly, rubbing his eyes to try and relieve a pounding headache. His other hand found the wall behind him, and he got back to his feet. "Chopsticks… can't go on… unenlightened people… Grand Elder Komemnos was alive..." Promptly doubling over, Gaius found that he did, in fact, have enough vigor left to throw up, emptying what little was in his stomach onto the floor beneath him as well as his own shoes.
Well, that was as good a sign as any for some sleep. Dragging himself down a hallway in search of a less smelly but still intact room, Gaius loosened the straps of his armor one by one. Eventually, he began outright discarding it piece by piece, stretching his aching joints after each loud
clang. What was that vision even supposed to tell him? Meaningless trivia about a man long dead? Crucial information to his people, but ten millenia out of date?
Reaching into a Compression Pouch, Gaius retrieved a bedroll and flung it haphazardly onto the ground. Screw finding a room, he was alone anyway. He settled into the bedroll one limb at a time, not bothering to remove his underclothes, and laid his head down for some blissful rest.
"What kind of fucking reward is that?" Gaius muttered, rapidly losing consciousness. "Cheapskate cave, just give me a sword…"
----
The tenth floor, and the accompanying vision, ended up being its own chapter because it was so involved. I wanted to go all out with that big battle, show what an all-out brawl at the absolute pinnacle of Qi Condensation can look like. At the same time, I didn't want it to get monotonous, so I placed an emphasis on the attrition aspect of the fight, with Gaius and Scylla employing a multitude of strategies to cut their foes down while preserving their stamina and not being overwhelmed by the whole swarm at once.
As for the Soup Chef vision, I have to thank our QM for letting me put my own spin on such an important character. Since he's a cook, I decided to give him somewhat of a neat freak personality, as well as a disdain for those who constantly squabble over status and resources. Of course, that's easy for him to say, what with not needing resources to advance the way the orthodox path does.
For Soup Chef's fighting style, I came up with the idea of him using two spears at once, which he refers to as Chopsticks. He can wrap his Dao Emanations around any sufficiently long object and use it as a Chopstick, essentially overriding whatever was there before and turning it into the equivalent of a Law Creation treasure with no special features. The Stone Spear was an ancient, incredibly valuable Golden Devil artifact, until Soup Chef found the fallen weapon. After that, it became just another Chopstick, no stronger or weaker than if he'd used a drying pole.
Next chapter is 11, 12 and the start of 13. Then, finally, for the chapter after that I can do Gaius' tribulation, and that's where I'm gonna go all-out.
