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!
-----------------------
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.
Many of the Chosen are rabidly anti-golden devil, but many of the Old Guard and the older talents are extremely exasperated by this and would much prefer the pragmatic option to focus on the Blood Path who have taken over so much of the region. Many of the previous generation of 'talents' before the favoured are also probably hopping mad since they've almost certainly been shoved aside in favour of the new generation.
As a lot of up-and-coming talents that advance unnaturally fast, the Chosen are naturally an outsized voice in their factions. At the end of the day however, they are still up-and-comers. None have yet reached the heights of the power, so they're somewhat reliant on interested Elders and Masters to give them backing.
Cutting the Chosen off from secret realms, in which their heaven favoured luck can help them advance immensely, inherently weakens their voice by delaying their advancement. At the same time, the major offensives of the blood path further strengthen the voices that want to focus on the Blood path, because holy hell we just basically lost access to the Desert and most of our spirit stone supply. Even with the great era, spirit stones are vital for quick recharges in battle, and no-one outside qi condensation or the favoured are really getting the restored Qi benefits yet.
- The land of the Sorrowful Blacksmiths is going to get ravaged by their own internal Blood Path. Old Cannibal is going to show up... and find relatively little left for him to eat. At that point, what happens next depends on how the two groups react to one another given that situation. Regardless, they're flooded with Blood Path nascents, and have no nascents who are not Blood Path. The population left in the pass is going to go quick.
- The RP is highly unlikely to be able to react in time to do much about this. There's a decent chance that OC hits before they even realize that Weeping Anvil is gone, and certainly before they can shift focus to deal with it.
- From what the RP can see, the most likely conclusion is going to be that the cannibal blacksmiths managed to figure out how to take out Weeping Anvil in some fashion, and then Old Cannibal attacked.
- Regardless, OC is going to wind up in the Pass with an effectively unexpended army, with very little prey, after either dealing with or absorbing the local cannibals. He's going to guess that it was Manuel that made this happen, because whenever his schemes fall through, it's pretty much always Manuel's fault. Regardless, he still can't come into the desert. He'll try to set up some sort of sustainable farming locally, like he does, but there likely isn't going to be all that much to work with, after the cannibal blacksmiths have had their fill. So where does he go from there? Charging straight into the center of Righteous Purity territory doesn't really seem like a good idea, unless he's deliberately trying to bleed his army. Admittedly, he might be... and it could turn out to be a heck of a flanking maneuver.
- The land of the Sorrowful Blacksmiths is going to get ravaged by their own internal Blood Path. Old Cannibal is going to show up... and find relatively little left for him to eat. At that point, what happens next depends on how the two groups react to one another given that situation. Regardless, they're flooded with Blood Path nascents, and have no nascents who are not Blood Path. The population left in the pass is going to go quick.
- The RP is highly unlikely to be able to react in time to do much about this. There's a decent chance that OC hits before they even realize that Weeping Anvil is gone, and certainly before they can shift focus to deal with it.
- From what the RP can see, the most likely conclusion is going to be that the cannibal blacksmiths managed to figure out how to take out Weeping Anvil in some fashion, and then Old Cannibal attacked.
- Regardless, OC is going to wind up in the Pass with an effectively unexpended army, with very little prey, after either dealing with or absorbing the local cannibals. He's going to guess that it was Manuel that made this happen, because whenever his schemes fall through, it's pretty much always Manuel's fault. Regardless, he still can't come into the desert. He'll try to set up some sort of sustainable farming locally, like he does, but there likely isn't going to be all that much to work with, after the cannibal blacksmiths have had their fill. So where does he go from there? Charging straight into the center of Righteous Purity territory doesn't really seem like a good idea, unless he's deliberately trying to bleed his army. Admittedly, he might be... and it could turn out to be a heck of a flanking maneuver.
Thanks to the Bees he has a hi degree of Aerial speed. If the RP is too slow on the draw entirely, he might try to back up the Ma at Yuan if only to screw the GD over. Or he might try to collapse the pass, burning and salting everything he can to make sure we get little left.
No one expects us to stay at Yuan because its that time of the century, and the Demonic Paths moves will be deliberately timed with that schedule in mind. If Old Cannibal moves to screw us over rather than attempting to sabotage the Colossus Footstep path and screw us over that way, then ill be considerably surprised
Thanks to the Bees he has a hi degree of Aerial speed. If the RP is too slow on the draw entirely, he might try to back up the Ma at Yuan if only to screw the GD over. Or he might try to collapse the pass, burning and salting everything he can to make sure we get little left.
No one expects us to stay at Yuan because its that time of the century, and the Demonic Paths moves will be deliberately timed with that schedule in mind. If Old Cannibal moves to screw us over rather than attempting to sabotage the Colossus Footstep path and screw us over that way, then ill be considerably surprised
If he catches them flat footed enough, they could easily just leg it, or send a spoiling force even to bleed off the dregs he was expecting to lose in the fighting anyways. While i agree it is unlikely, if he rolls well, or gets intel quickly enough he could swing it.
Yeah... OC has no reason to think that the GD are doing anything other than getting ready to take the hit at this point, and every path he has to Yuan is dangerous or costly enough that he'd have to have a strong reason to make the attempt.
Now, raids on SP? Possible. They won't be expecting it, and they'd react to it strongly, so if he can get in, hit them hard somewhere it'll hurt, and get out without losing anyone he really cares about (which seems very possible, given the bees) then that could be worth it for the "send the enemy into convulsions" factor alone.
Other than that...?
- Damaging and/or fortifying the pass in ways that would make it difficult to retake and/or difficult to send trade caravans across
- Trying to get the pass on at least a slightly more sustainable footing
and then comes what he wants to do with it.
- Is he intending to use it as a staging area for his inevitable assault on the GDs? That's going to take a lot of buildup.
- Does he want to try to turn it into a thorn in SP's side? If he can make it too expensive to take, then it becomes something they have to keep paying attention to. Having one more place to split their focus to is a good thing.
- Otherwise, just do whatever he can quickly to make it both costly and unprofitable to retake, grab everything of value he can get his hands on, and pull back out again before SP has a chance to turn and respond.
If old cannibal knows he can't hold the pass, he might just depopulate it. After all the righteous powers will be desperate to regain it and the trade to the Golden Devils.
Muhuhah! While in no way can she claim even a 5th of the credit, scoring a fraction of an assist on a Nascent assassination is a huge moment for Minervina.
So perfectly seemless as well! definitely a good use of her first Core Disciple action.
Our last look inside Old Purities head seemed to indicate that she was keen to hunker down and wait for Heavens Chosen to finish her job for her. Considering that, I wouldn't be surprised if she abandons the Pass and the surviving Blacksmiths in the face of whats going to look like a sudden, fatally overwhelming invasion from the Devil Bee's.
I suppose this is the turn we really find out how important our stone supply is to them.
Hopefully I'm wrong, I would love to see both sides bleed troops and nascents in a giant rumble over the territory.
Shaggy Dog Green Spring Town, Golden Heartland, Year 235
The bar broke into mixed laughter, cheers, and boos as Spiros - the nearest century's Medico, local bookie, and my newest friend - took a bow from atop a table. The bartender shook her head and slapped the table, holding out a hand that quickly filled with loose money.
I'd been posted up in Green Spring Town for a few weeks while I waited for my injuries to heal. For better or for worse, my ability to Bronze so much of my stomach meant I got the fast medical procedure: they got it red hot and just smashed the seams of the wound together until it cooled. Hurt like a bitch and left a huge ugly scar once I went back to more human skin, but Spiros hooked me up with a local artisan.
Apparently, the guy regularly knocked scars out of Legionnaires for a small fee: literally, he ran up the heat and just tap-tapped away with a little hammer. Helped speed up the physical healing, and let me get back to cultivating while I waited on my organs to get their act together. In thanks, me and him cooked up this dumb little gimmick: a bad joke competition, where the goal was trying not to laugh. You giggle at a joke, you pay up and whoever told it gets the money.
It was rigged, obviously. We had a few plants around the room to giggle or boo on different signals and set the mood of the room. We were here to get paid, not play fair.
"Alright, I've got one," I said, as a pot-bellied woman got booed back into her chair. I stood up from my chair and grinned at the room.
"Alright, so a Foundation Building expert is preparing to make the breakthrough to Golden Core after a century of preparation, but they've gathered some real heavy retribution to be paid off. I'm talking some really fucked tribulations: seven-colour lightning, clouds that turn day to night, qi vortexes, just the worst shit. They say goodbye to their family and go up to a mountain top with their protective treasures, contemplate the Dao, and spend a full month surviving the tribulation before they complete their breakthrough.
"Then he comes back down the mountain to find the entire house's been wiped out by his rivals while he was gone. He's furious so he flies across the desert to their city, destroys all the buildings, then kills them all before he heads back home. But lucky enough, one little kid survived, a great grandson they named after him as a sign of honour - named Yu."
"Oi mate, if this is a fuckin' mixup of 'you' and 'me', I'm doffin' this bottle at ya," somebody yelled from the far corner. A few voices got rowdy in agreement.
"Gargle cock on your own time, that's not even the joke," I shot back, holding my hands up to calm the crowd. There were a few aborted chuckles at my response, and a few rueful looking patrons handed over coin to the bartender.
"Anyway, the elder devotes himself completely to this kid, wants to raise him into being a true paragon and worthy of rebuilding the clan around. And it works! He's showering the kid with cultivation treasures, spirit beast cores and meat dishes, gathering the best techniques he can for his cultivation level. Junior Yu rises to become a shining star, one of the greatest in his generation. Qi Condensation before the age of 10, and battling across realms without a problem.
"But the elder realizes he has a problem. He's spent all this time raising this kid to be a good cultivator that he hasn't really raised him at all. They don't have a family bond, and he doesn't know what to do about it. He goes and asks his friend what to do." I put on my best 'dignified old man voice', and try to sound as constipated as I can. "He says, 'Elder Theodoros, you have raised a dozen generations of your family to be proud legionnaires. My sworn brother Achilles spoke of you as fondly as his own father, with no awkwardness or discomfort despite the years between you. Please, can you share some wisdom so that I too may connect with my junior?'
"Theodoros laughs at him and says, 'Yu, you old goat, no wonder your brat's distant! You always talked like an old man even as a youngster, and now you talk like an old man who ate a dictionary! Lighten up, and be a little less chatty!'
"The Elder Yu thanks him for his advice, goes back home, and tries to put it in place. Where he used to talk for an hour, he starts using only one sentence. Where he used to throw out an afternoon of wisdom, it's just a few words. But instead of getting closer, Junior Yu only gets more distant because of how short he is with him now. Now he's unsure, so Elder Yu goes and asks another friend."
I put on the constipated voice again, and twist up my nose like I stepped in something nasty. "'Sister Delphi, I need your help. My junior is distant from me, and I'm not sure how to resolve it. I thought I was being too verbose so I tried speaking to him less, but that only made it worse. How should this humble one proceed?' He gives her some face, despite her barely being into Foundation Building, and she laughs at him.
"'Elder Yu, you're stuck in the past. All this formality, worrying about him being your junior, the new generation don't give an ox's ass about seniority. Freshen up your clothes to something from this century, learn how the kids talk, and then things'll work out.' So he flies out and immediately commissions a whole new wardrobe, starts watching all the latest plays, and just tries to mentally become an eleven-year-old.
"Finally, he feels like he's ready so he returns home, looks for his junior, and tries to talk to him the way he heard people talk in the plays. He says, "Respectfully Junior, that cultivation base of yours is straight busting. Might I learn where you copped such a fateful technique? Sheeeesh!"
I hear the jingle of coins as a handful of people snort into their beers. "Doesn't work. In fact, it doesn't work so badly that his junior starts avoiding him. Now he feels terrible and says he's going into closed door cultivation, then escapes the house for a few months. He's hanging around a town somewhere in the desert and sees a pair of mortal parents playing with a full herd of kids, laughing and having a good time. He's all out of hope so he gives in and asks them how they stay so close to their children.
"They're too nervous to give him any advice, and try to give him face so they can leave but kids don't care about face. So one of them pipes up and says they like it when the family plays games together. He's interested now so he pays the parents a few spirit stones so he can interrogate the kid. And the kid tells him about their favourite game, one where you have to choose between answering a hard question or doing something scary.
"Now he's serious. This is it, he thinks, this is the last thing he needed. So he flies home and puts everything he's learned into practice. He puts on his freshest clothes, he plans out what to say so he's not saying too much, he's got everything together. So he sets out through the house and sees his descendant, and lands in front of him.
"And he goes, 'Junior Yu, dare?'"
==============================
Another shitpost. I hope it causes everybody who reads it to groan, or at least exhale harder. Technically, this is the first omake I've written in months but the backlog is about done anyway. These kinds of dumb things - setting up a rigged competition around something stupid in a place of ill repute - is pretty in-character for Janus though, so I'm absolutely shameless about it. Also tangential mentions of Katha Theodoros and Lipita Delphi, two other Good Seeds that started the same turn as me and with considerably more words and cultivation progress. Check 'em out.
I wonder if it would make sense to try to seize the fortresses at the very end of the pass on our end (not all of them along the pass), once it becomes clear that the Blacksmiths are falling to the Devil Bees, to act as a plug to stop them freely raiding the desert from there.
That should be something that seems very reasonable to the Righteous Path's leadership.
And when it becomes clear how screwed they are, the Blacksmith garrisons may open the gates and invite us in rather than be eaten.
And for those who say we don't have the troops for that, logically it should take less troops to hold those fortresses and bottle the Blood Path up there rather than have to garrison the entire region around the mouth of the pass to try to intercept raids if the Blood Path hold the entire pass and can use those fortresses as a launching point for raids.
It actually might take awhile for people to figure out that Weeping Anvil is dead. After all when faced with overwhelming force the usual nascent move is to hide yourself in order to force your enemies to move cautiously. So he could just be hidden really well.
Flavius spent the next few months training and recovering. He did not spend all that time with the Shining Goat Sect, however. He hadn't planned on finding them, after all, and had taken a number of simpler jobs around the area before even leaving the Dawn Fortress. For all that he wanted to spend all his time training, he couldn't abandon those duties to his clan.
Eventually, he fell into something of a cycle. Flavius would leave Goat-Cat Spiral Village and climb down the mountain. From there he'd make his way to Chengshipolis, where whatever job he had, usually escorting caravans through the Colossus Footstep Pass. After his mission was complete, he'd return to the Shining Goat Sect and usually have a week's worth of training before he had to go do another job.
While it was somewhat frustrating to not be able to put his full attention behind learning the Shining Goat Arts, there were some benefits to his constant moving back and forth. The first and most significant of these was that he got to spend an incredible amount of time traversing then mountains. Usually he only attempted to climb them once a year, but now he had the opportunity to climb up and down every few days. Even outside of what Shining Goat was teaching him, Flavius' knowledge of the mountains had increased by leaps and bounds.
It was also the opportunity to apply what he had learned against a variety of opponents. Of course, blood path bandits were quite rare, but spirit beasts occasionally came down into the path for hunting purposes. He had grown rather skilled at applying his head to such problems, though he had yet to win a headbutt contest with Qiao.
All that being said, Flavius truly regretted leaving Goat-Cat Spiral Village, for he had returned to fire and blood. The spirit grass fields were burning, and bodies littered the Hundred-Tiered Training Fields. Mostly these were the bodies of spirit beasts, and what few human bodies he saw were clearly chewed on. It all added up to one thing.
Flavius had returned to the village in the midst of an assault by blood sect cultivators.
He narrowed his eyes in anger. He'd known such things were possible of course. The Shining Goat Sect was relatively weak, and while it was well hidden it was also far from anyone who could potentially lend aid. That didn't mean he'd seen such an attack coming, however.
He only allowed himself a single moment to process all those emotions. He could still hear fighting, which meant it wasn't over. He could still help.
Perhaps it was because he was listening for sounds of fighting that he heard two thuds behind him. He spun around, and for a moment felt relief, for before him were two figures coated in bronze. Yet the relief lasted for only a moment.
The two were covered from head to toe in bronze armor, but it was not like any armor he'd seen worn by his fellow legionaries. In fact, it looked rather more similar to what Flavius saw when he looked at his own arms, the bronze skin of those who carried the Blood of Bronze. For them to be wearing such a thing as armor…
One of them laughed. He was a massive foe, in height and girth, and he wielded a hammer to match. The laugh was deep and booming, sounding more like a jovial patriarch than what Flavius knew he truly was. When he spoke, it was with pure hunger, "Look Devouring Dragon! I did not expect a Golden Devil here of all places. You've been looking for a new helmet, haven't you?"
The other cultivator was almost as tall as his compatriot, but he was thin, looking almost like he had been stretched out. In his hand was a wicked spear, and when he spoke it was with a voice like a rumbling storm, "His skin does not seem tough enough for that, Cannibal Executioner. It would be better for you to simply devour him whole."
Flavius took a step back. The two seemed to radiate blood qi, acrid and sharp. He did not even need to try to know they were both in the twelfth heavenstage. He had only barely managed to overcome such a gap in small realms once in the past, and that was against a single enemy, while Flavius wielded several advantages. A fight against two, who were both clearly adept at fighting Golden Devils, would be almost impossible. If he was alone, Flavius would surely have tried to flee. Doing so would simply allow them to aid in assaulting the Shining Goat Sect, something he could not allow. Besides, they were surely faster than him, there was no way he could truly escape.
He would simply have to stall, and hope Shining Goat or Shadow Cat could come to bail him out. Thus, he spoke, "The Golden Devil Clan will not allow monsters like you to continue to exist. Even if you kill me, know that you will be hunted and killed."
Cannibal Executioner turned towards his ally, "Did the dinner just try to threaten us? Perhaps we should teach it a lesson."
In response, Devouring Dragon drew back its spear and made as if to throw it. Flavius threw himself to the side, and he watched as a bolt of blood red lightning lanced out to the spot he had been moments ago. It seemed his stalling tactics had failed. Thus, in the next moment he launched himself at his two foes.
It was a general rule of thumb when fighting that battling multiple opponents at once was far worse than only one. This was, in fact, a major part of the premise on which the Golden Devil Clan's armies functioned. Cultivation skewed things to some extent, of course, but a simple truth was undeniable. Against one enemy three heavenstages above him, victory may be possible, but against two he would never win an extended bout. Thus he charged forward, throwing caution to the wind. He only had one shot.
He leapt into the air, soaring over the strike of a spear. He slammed his feet down, and jumped off the air itself. The Shining Goat Art: Double Jump Prance was a very limited mobility technique, but being able to push off against the air as if it were solid ground, if only once after his feet left the earth, was still quite useful.
Flavius drew his sword. Whereas Cannibal Executioner's armor was almost fully sealed, Devouring Dragon's helmet had an open slit, just wide enough for a sword to stab through. With the spear user overextended, he could not block. Still flying forward, he thrust his blade right at the blood path cultivator's eyes.
And then a hammer slammed into his stomach. Flavius flew back, body crashing into the ground with a painful thud. He tried to pull himself away, but before he got far Flavius felt a spear impale him through the gut, pinning him to the ground. Red lightning ran through him, and Flavius felt his limbs spasm as he watched the two blood path cultivators approach.
Cannibal Executioner's approached him slowly, hammer raised high, "That was fast for a Golden Devil, you almost had Devouring Dragon for a moment. Of course, you weren't fast enough."
The hammer slammed down, and Flavius watched it grow larger and larger before it impacted his head.
———
"Look Devouring Dragon! I did not expect a Golden Devil here of all places. You've been looking for a new helmet, haven't you?"
Flavius stumbled back, hand reflexively going for his stomach. There was no wound. Yet he had felt it so vividly! Had it been some sort of vision of the future? But Flavius had never experienced any sort of precognitive abilities. Some sort of blood path technique? But what would be the point, just to intimidate him?
"His skin does not seem tough enough for that, Cannibal Executioner. It would be better for you to simply devour him whole."
And they didn't seem aware of whatever he had just experienced either. At the very least, they were repeating the exact same lines as last time. Flavius grimaced, reaching for his sword. It was still a vaguely uncomfortable weapon for him, but he'd felt it best to requisition a new one when he started doing missions for the Clan again. Flavius was glad he had made that choice now, for he was not yet skilled enough to defeat foes such as the ones he faced unarmed.
Cannibal Executioner turned towards him, "Look at that, the dinner is quaking in its boots. Let's put it out of its misery."
Flavius threw himself to the side, and once more watched a bolt of blood lightning strike the spot he had just occupied. But what to do now? If he charged in as he had last time, he would likely die just the same.
Cannibal Executioner took his moment of indecision as an opportunity to charge forward himself. Flavius jumped back, barely avoiding the upswing of his foe's massive hammer. Then, he lunged forwards himself, entering Cannibal Executioner's guard to score a line against his bronze armor. The sword simply skidded off it, however, and the cannibal jumped forward, knocking Flavius back with his stomach.
Flavius barely managed to stumble to the side as the hammer slammed into the earth, cratering the ground. Even so, he was off balance. He caught sight of Devouring Dragon lunging at him at the last moment, and barely managed to interpose his sword in the way. The spear did not pierce him, but Flavius was thrown to the ground. He rolled out of the way of a second stab, only to see Cannibal Executioner plummeting towards him. He had barely a moment to process the sight before the bronze-coated figure slammed down into his chest. Flavius felt his ribs crack. This time, he could not dodge the spear as it flashed for his head.
———
"Look Devouring Dragon! I did not expect a Golden Devil here of all places. You've been looking for a new helmet, haven't you?"
How was he not dead? Flavius knew he had died twice. He had felt it. Yet once more, he was here at the beginning of their fight. Whatever kept saving him, it wasn't his doing.
"His skin does not seem tough enough for that, Cannibal Executioner. It would be better for you to simply devour him whole."
Flavius turned towards the two, drawing his blade, "What are you two doing? Why does this keep happening?"
Cannibal Executioner's voice seemed confused, "Well isn't it obvious? We're slaughtering this village of cultivators, and then we're going to devour them all. As for why it keeps happening, well, isn't that what the blood path is all about?"
Flavius tightened his grip around his weapon, "No, why does this fight keep happening? Why does it keep repeating?"
This time, it was Devouring Dragon who spoke, "Our dinner seems to have gone insane with fear. Let us put it out of its misery."
Immediately, Flavius dodged to the side, but no blood lightning came. Instead, Cannibal Executioner struck first, charging forward. Flavius side-stepped that strike as well, but only barely, the hammer rushing past his nose. Then the blood lightning struck, and Flavius felt himself spasm as it slammed into his chest. He could swear he felt his blood begin to boil, but it only lasted for a few moments. That time was enough for Cannibal Executioner to slam his hammer into Flavius' side, however, throwing him to the ground.
Flavius rolled to the side to dodge the first thrust of the spear, and then kicked himself up from the ground. He felt the spear strike his stomach, but it didn't impale him all the way through. It was better than staying on the ground, where he would inevitably be crushed or stabbed.
Flavius had begun to piece together the way his opponents fought, for all the help it was doing. They were both body cultivators, obviously, and they combined Cannibal Executioner's incredible strength with Devouring Dragon's swift strikes. Flavius had to constantly stay mobile to avoid the massive hammer, far too large to effectively block or even easily dodge. Yet any opening he left while trying to avoid the assault would be taken advantage of by a swift strike of the spear of blood lightning. Of course the same held true the other way too. If he focused on parrying and carefully avoiding pinpoint spear attacks, he would simply find himself struck by a blow from that massive hammer.
It was a devastating combination, designed to cover for each other's weakness and lay down a relentless assault. Perhaps if Flavius was more mobile he could weave around all the blows, but his fighting style was built around endurance. Sure he could take some hits, but he died far before his foes ran out of energy. And of course, even if he was agile enough to get his own hits in, he simply didn't have the penetrating power to pierce through their armor. Truly a conundrum.
Flavius threw his sword to the side. This time, when the spear came for his guts, Flavius allowed it to pierce him through. And then he grabbed the weapon and pulled with all his might. Devouring Dragon had clearly not expected such a tactic, stumbling forward instead of releasing his own weapon. Flavius grabbed the blood path cultivator but his shoulders and spun, imposing him in front of Cannibal Executioner's hammer. The weapon froze and Flavius gave a bloody smile.
Of course, then his body began to burn as blood lightning ran through it, and did not stop until he was left a smoking corpse.
———
It was on the thirty-seventh loop that Flavius first managed to pull it off.
"Look Devouring Dragon! I did not expect a Golden Devil here of all places. You've been looking for a new helmet, haven't you?"
"His skin does not seem tough enough for that, Cannibal Executioner. It would be better for you to simply devour him whole."
Flavius reached for his sword, taking a step back. If his foes could remember every subsequent loop, he would never be able to win. The fact that they did not, however, meant Flavius had a chance. And assuming the loops did not stop, a chance was all he needed.
"Look at that, the dinner is quaking in its boots. Let's put it out of its misery."
Flavius dodged the thrown bolt of blood lightning without even looking. Then he dodged the hammer swing, stepping just out of the way. He threw his sword forward, just in time to intercept a second bolt. The lightning courses through the sword, but did not stop its momentum, forcing Devouring Dragon to knock it out of the air with his spear. Flavius took that moment to charge forward.
The spear wielder stabbed forward with a warding thrust, but Flavius dodged around it. He knew without even having to look that Cannibal Executioner was right on his heels. All according to plan.
Flavius ran behind Devouring Dragon, and then bounced off the air in order to slam his full force into the blood cultivator's back back. The spear wielder, unprepared for the hit, stumbled forward just in time to collide with Cannibal Executioner's hammer swing. A resounding clang echoed through the village as Devouring Dragon was thrown backwards, reeling. Flavius took the moment as the two were stunned to dive for his sword. He still didn't have a way to kill them quickly without it.
Flavius managed to seize his weapon, but before he could retreat back he felt a meaty hand wrap around his skull. The booming voice of Cannibal Executioner rang out in fury, "How dare you make me hit him!"
Flavius barely managed to get his hands under him as the enraged blood cultivator tried to slam him into the ground. His arms shook from the effort of holding his head away from the earth. Of course, Cannibal Executioner simply slammed him into the ground again and again, until Flavius' bronze flesh was bent and his bones were broken. The pain was excruciating, such that he barely even noticed Devouring Dragon recover. At least until that spear was once more driven through his head.
Yet through it all, Flavius smiled. Even if his own attacks could barely scratch his enemy's armor, they could certainly injure each other.
———
It was the fifty-third loop that Flavius first managed to kill one of them.
"Look Devouring Dragon! I did not expect a Golden Devil here of all places. You've been looking for a new helmet, haven't you?"
"His skin does not seem tough enough for that, Cannibal Executioner. It would be better for you to simply devour him whole."
Flavius could have repeated those lines back word for word at this point. He put his hand on his sword and took a step back. He carefully didn't mutter the next words under his breath. The cultivators would hear him and their actions would change as a result.
"Look at that, the dinner is quaking in its boots. Let's put it out of its misery."
Flavius dodged the first bolt of blood lightning. He dodged the hammer blow. This time when he ran forward, he did not throw the sword. Instead, he bounded forwards and took the second bolt of blood lightning straight to the chest.
He had been struck by this technique numerous times since he began looping. He had felt blood lightning running through his body until his blood boiled and his organs were cooked from the steam perhaps more than anyone else alive. Yet because of that, he had begun developing a solution. He couldn't stop the technique from striking him, but his bronze skin proved an incredible medium for conducting it. With a certain circulation of metal qi, Flavius could cause the effect to surge through him in a mere moment, and if he managed to position himself in the right way before it struck…
Flavius' foot hit the ground and the blood lightning grounded into the earth. Flavius didn't even break his stride as he charged forward. Devouring Dragon thrusted forwards with his spear, but he never seemed to expect Flavius to dodge around and run behind him. Or perhaps he simply didn't care; the only weak point in the spear wielder's armor was at the front.
Flavius bounced off the air and slammed into Devouring Dragon's back. Cannibal Executioner's swing caught the blood sect cultivator head on, throwing himself flying back. And this time, Flavius already had his sword.
Flavius threw himself onto Devouring Dragon's head and began stabbing into the slit of his helmet. He stabbed over and over again, as quickly and with as much force as he could. He stabbed until he felt that massive hammer impact against his ribs, throwing him away. But Flavius tumbled to a stop with a grin on his face. Finally, his sort was wet with blood.
Cannibal Executioner shook Devouring Dragon, but there was no response. After all, there was nothing left by a corpse. The massive hammer-wielder turned on Flavius and roared in fury, "I will kill you!"
Flavius picked himself off the ground and readied his sword, "I don't think you can."
Then the blood sect cultivator did something unexpected. He slammed his hand into his fellow cultivator's chest, and both of their bronze armors began to glow red. Flavius watched as blood qi poured into Cannibal Executioner, and the man's armor began to crackle with blood lightning, "I'm going to make you suffer before I eat you."
Flavius had no idea how, but it was clear Cannibal Executioner had somehow absorbed his fellow's techniques and some of his power, even without directly consuming him. Yet, Flavius was not truly concerned. One opponent was still better than two, even if that one opponent was somewhat empowered. Besides, he'd gotten this far. Victory was only a matter of enough repetitions.
Cannibal Executioner ran forward, even faster than before, and Flavius easily stepped out of the way of the first blow. This time, however, he felt the prickle of blood lightning against his skin, like a million needles stabbing through his body. Fifty loops ago that may have disrupted him somehow, but at this point the pain barely even registered.
Flavius circled around his foe, looking for opening. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any. The utility of the skin of the Bronze Devils was that it was very easily flexible, just like real skin. Making it into armor was actually somewhat genius, if incredibly macabre, especially if one could maintain that flexibility while increasing the force it could take without breaking. There were no openings for joints, because the metal could naturally bend in those places.
Even so, there should have been some sort of openings. As it was, it seemed to Flavius like Cannibal Executioner was somehow fully sealed in his armor, even the eyes covered with bronze. Flavius would have to think of a way to get through the armor directly.
He dodged another swing of the hammer, and then leapt into the air, slashing for his foe's neck. The blade connected with the bronze armor and skidded off, but the blood lightning traveled up it and straight into Flavius. His muscles seized, and once more he felt Cannibal Executioner's hand wrap around his head. Flavius felt more and more blood lightning pour into his skull, and though he tried to stab his foe in return every strike simply bounced off the armor.
Flavius felt himself about to die, but moments before he was thrown to the ground. He tried to use his trick to ground the lightning, but his mind was still somewhat fried. He could not concentrate enough to do so.
"I told you I'd make you suffer, didn't I?"
It was some time before Flavius died, and he was thankful for when it finally happened.
———
Flavius did not manage to kill Devouring Dragon the next loop. He was still somewhat disoriented from Cannibal Executioner's ministrations, to say the least, and shaking off the blood lightning without breaking stride took perfect timing and focus. He did not manage it the time after that either. Or the time after that.
On the fifty-seventh loop, Flavius fled. This was not the first time he had done so, and it was not because he was trying to escape. His original decision to stay and fight had been the correct one, after all. Rather, Flavius needed time to gather his thoughts and plan out the next steps. Of course, his enemies gave chase, but while they were faster than him, it was by a surprisingly small margin. They were wearing armor heavier than his own skin, and wielding massive weapons beside. Cannibal Executioner was also rather bulky, clearly not built for speed. He felt, strangely, that this was more like fighting Golden Devils than blood path cultivators. It was like fighting himself.
The question was, how would Flavius beat himself?
He pondered the question before a bolt of blood lightning slowed him down enough for his foes to catch up to him. And then, soon after, he died.
———
The fifty-eighth loop Flavius managed to kill Devouring Dragon once more. He spent the rest of the fight doing his best to test his foe's defenses. His conclusions were actually rather heartening.
The joints of the bronze armor were indeed tough, but they were weaker than the rest of it. Flavius couldn't break through even stabbing at full strength at the side of Cannibal Executioner's neck, but the sword had dug in instead of skidding across. Of course, attempting that had left him open to being grabbed again.
Flavius would muse in the next loop on the fact that Cannibal Executioner was so predictable in battle but so creative when administering torture. He then died after mistiming his step while charging Devouring Dragon, but at least it was quick that time.
After that, something seemed to click. The next loop, he managed to kill Devouring Dragon, and then dodged around Cannibal Executioner for a while before getting caught in a massive shockwave of blood lightning that he could apparently unleash. This time, he managed to fall on his sword, at least. It beat what Cannibal Executioner would do to him if he hadn't.
The next ten loops, Flavius only failed to kill Devouring Dragon twice. He also felt like he was getting stuck into the same rut as his foes. It felt less like they were fighting and more like steps in a play, but one that always ended in his painful death. The problem was actually relatively simple: Flavius' sword could not pierce through his foe's armor in a single hit, but because of the blood lightning he would be too stunned after attacking to avoid Cannibal Executioner's retaliation.
On the seventy-second loop, Flavius realized he needed to change the formula. He had already tried stopping Cannibal Executioner from somehow absorbing Devouring Dragon's technique, but the whole transfer of glowing red energy seemed largely unnecessary, or at least much faster than it appeared. Flavius had never managed to strike fast enough to stop it.
There was another variable he could change, however. Flavius' sword could not pierce the bronze armor, but perhaps Devouring Dragon's spear could.
Flavius lured Cannibal Executioner away from the weapon with well timed dodges, and then grabbed it with a dive and roll. The hammer user was clearly enraged by Flavius' stealing his dead compatriot's weapon, and leapt high in the air. Yet Flavius had seen this move before.
Flavius ran, putting considerable distance between him and the incoming impact. When Cannibal Executioner landed, a massive shockwave of blood lightning came with him, but Flavius had placed himself just out of range. Then he charged forwards, leapt, and before Cannibal Executioner could recover, jammed the spear at his neck.
The weapon met the bronze armor and broke through. For a moment, Flavius felt hope, but then the spear's movement stopped. It had pierced the armor, and perhaps even his foe's neck, but it hadn't gone deep enough to be fatal. A moment later, the blood lightning returned, surging through Flavius' body.
It was the most painful death yet, but when Executioner Cannibal pulled the weapon from his neck, it was wet with blood. Flavius died with a grin splitting his face.
———
On the seventy-third loop, Flavius won.
"Look Devouring Dragon! I did not expect a Golden Devil here of all places. You've been looking for a new helmet, haven't you?"
"His skin does not seem tough enough for that, Cannibal Executioner. It would be better for you to simply devour him whole."
Flavius stepped back, placing a hand on his sword. He had to keep his mind centered on the now. One mistake would spell his death, after all. Yet at the same time, his mind was racing. He had been so close! He just needed one more idea, one more push.
"Look at that, the dinner is quaking in its boots. Let's put it out of its misery."
Flavius stepped aside, dodging the very blood lightning bolt. He stepped aside again, avoiding the swing of a hammer. Then he ran forward. He leapt just as the second bolt struck him, and though his limbs seized for just a moment, he hit the ground without even breaking his stride.
Flavius dodged past the warding stab of Devouring Dragon's spear, and then slammed into his back, knocking the spear wielder into Cannibal Executioner's hammer. Flavius leapt forward even as Devouring Dragon hit the dirt and stabbed through the slit in his helmet three times. With the third strike, the blade met the back of Devouring Dragon's helmet. Flavius rolled forward, leaving the weapon behind, a hammer blow barely whizzing overhead.
Cannibal Executioner drew the sword out of his compatriot's head, but the spear wielder didn't stir. He was already dead, after all. Cannibal Executioner turned to Flavius and roared in fury, "I will kill you!"
Flavius simply readied his hands in a boxing stance, "I don't think you can."
Cannibal Executioner slammed his hand into his fellow cultivator's chest, and both of their bronze armors began to glow red. Flavius watched as blood qi poured into Cannibal Executioner. The man's armor began to crackle with blood lightning, "I'm going to make you suffer before I eat you."
While it happened, Flavius' mind raced. What else could he change? He could not stop the blood lightning. He could use a spear instead of a sword, but he didn't have any other weapons available. He needed to kill his foe in one hit.
The idea came to him like a bolt of lightning. Or perhaps more accurately, like dodging one. He'd known that he could only kill his foe quickly with a sword, so he'd put himself into the mindset of a sword cultivator. But Flavius wasn't a sword cultivator, and he was no longer using a sword.
Cannibal Executioner rushed forward, and Flavius dodged back at the last second. The prickling static of blood lightning felt like victory. He ran towards the corpse of Devouring Dragon and rolled forward, avoiding a hit to the back and scooping up the spear in a single movement.
The spear was ornate bronze, carved with images of dragons. It was heavier than a standard issue javelin, but it was similar enough to what Flavius was used to. Certainly, he appreciated the days and nights he'd spent tirelessly training with such weapons, for all that he knew they did not entirely suit him.
Somehow, Cannibal Executioner seemed even more angry, "You are not fit to wield that weapon! Die!"
He leapt into the air, and Flavius immediately started putting distance between them. When Flavius knew he was far enough away, he drew back the spear.
Cannibal Executioner slammed into the ground like thunder, and blood lightning radiated out in all directions. Flavius had placed himself perfectly, however, and it did not reach him. In fact, even as the lightning began to retreat, he began to move forward. One step, two steps, three.
And then he launched the spear. It flew straight and true, lodging into the armor around Cannibal Executioner's neck. Once more, however, it stopped short. Flavius did not stop running.
Cannibal Executioner was frozen, if only for a moment. It seemed a spear pressed against his windpipe was rather more startling than when it was against the side of his neck. That gave Flavius all the time he needed.
He leapt into the air. Then he leapt again, pushing off of nothing to headbutt the spear with a victorious cry, "Golden Goat Art: Brazen Bronze Horn!"
The spear pierced through Cannibal Executioner's neck, through the bronze armor at the back, and out the other side. And the world shattered.
———
Flavius was standing near the entrance to Goat-Cat Spiral Village, but he was not alone. Scattered about were various people he knew from the Shining Goat Sect. Some were lying on the floor, dead, but most seemed to be staring straight up, glassy eyes. Flavius glanced up for a moment, and saw a massive array of blood. It flowed and swirled in a way that was almost entrancing, but whatever power it had once held over Flavius' mind was broken.
"H-how did you get out of the Blood-Jellying Hell Viewing Art?"
Flavius turned his head towards the noise, and saw two figures. They looked like the foes he had faced, but about seven heavenstages lower. One was short and fat, wielding a small hammer. The other was tall and thin, holding a spear with a wooden shaft. Neither was wearing bronze armor.
Flavius rounded on them at once, "I won."
They stumbled back, tripping over a pile of corpses behind them. Now that he looked, it seemed like they'd been dragging those who died in the array into a pile, though he couldn't say why.
The one who Cannibal Executioner seemed to be based on spoke fearfully, "How could you have won? That fight should have been nearly impossible!"
Flavius frowned, stepping forward slowly, "That was foolish. Is it not the path of the cultivator to achieve the impossible? If it was only nearly impossible… well, anyone can do the nearly impossible with enough time and tries."
He took another step forward and continued speaking, "Now, I'm going to have to make a report on this, so to make things easier, can you explain to me why you didn't make the fight harder, or simply kill everyone while they were trapped?"
The other one, presumably the base for Devouring Dragon, responded, "Th-that's the recipe. You need to know it's possible, and then hate yourself for giving up anyways. You need to hate yourself and want it all to end until you suffer a qi deviation and your blood jellies. Eating the blood jelly is much more efficient."
Flavius nodded, "Thank you for telling me that. I'm going to kill you now, but only because I don't have the time to make you feel as much pain as you deserve."
Flavius rushed forward. Devouring Dragon thrust forward with his spear, but Flavius dodged easily, grabbing the shaft with one hand as he did so. Cannibal Executioner swung down with his hammer, but Flavius caught it by the handle and redirected it, smashing the spear shaft. Flavius spun the spear point in his hand and jammed it into the hammer wielder's eye, killing him. As the man fell, Flavius fully plucked the hammer from him and bashed the spear user's head in before he could react. He bashed a second time, and then a third just to be sure.
Flavius felt a drop of blood hit his hand. The blood array seemed to be destabilizing without support from the two, as he'd suspected. He had to admit, they'd been quite talented if they really had created and sustained the array. Just not at fighting.
As blood began to rain from the sky, Flavius moved to check on the others who had been caught in the array. They would need someone to explain what was happening, after all. Then he'd move to deal with any other blood path cultivators in the village. Though, if the two he had just killed were any indication of the general strength of their attackers, he had a feeling they'd all be mopped up before he could arrive.
Janus 18 - Recordings of a Discarded Jade Slip & Bronze With the Sickness
Recordings of a Discarded Jade Slip,
& Bronze With the Sickness
Will detected. Calibrating for user's cultivation base. For Nascent Soul users, you may skip this step by inserting a sliver of your Will now.
No conscious Will detected. Please wait…
User detected as Foundation Building: UNDEFINED Pillars. Reproducing sensory illusion at full plus one-half accuracy. Please wait…
Recordings found.
Due to this artifact's restrictions, advanced navigation options are restricted. Playback will occur as specified by the recorder. This artifact begs the user's forgiveness and kowtows thrice in apology.
Due to this artifact's restrictions, environmental data cannot be accurately recreated for reconstruction. Illusory environments will be synthesized as specified by the recorder. This artifact begs the user's forgiveness and kowtows thrice in apology.
Recording selected.
Due to this artifact's restrictions, no identity context can be associated with this recording. All entities will be anonymized for 10,000 years. For any and all inconvenience this may cause, this artifact begs the user's forgiveness and kowtows thrice in apology.
Beginning playback.
You hold this artifact in your hand as you stare into the desert.
"Recording attempt…twelve? Thirteen?" You chuckle. "Another attempt."
You toss this artifact into the air against proper usage instructions and catch it in your palm.
"To whomever finds this, you come across the final words of…a lowly, nameless Bronze Devil."
You pause, and watch a trail of SPECIES UNDEFINED march through the sand towards their nest.
"To crush your dreams early, I am no great master, or sage of wondrous renown. I was - I am - a simple warrior grown from hard work, and the assistance of my more talented peers.
"And yet, I stand the sole inheritor of an ancient technique of significant power. A technique that, when woefully cultivated, damned my entire family to a pitiful existence for countless generations. Yet one that has made me stronger than I dared to dream. I leave this recording behind with the wish that someone more talented than I can cultivate it...yet with the hope in my heart that it remains buried in the desert sands for all time.
"I see that hasn't deterred you. As expected of someone fated enough to have encountered this. Very well, then. Open your eyes and behold well, the legacy and nature of the Infinitely Blossoming Wave."
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
You attempt to stifle your tears and fail, hurriedly rising to your feet from the ground. You bow to the quintet of women, hiding your face behind a sleeve as you greet them.
"Young master," the one at the head greets you. They dress in ███ ██ colours, but without the finery and detail that mark the house's favoured daughters. You take them for the handmaids of one the visiting troupe of noblewomen, making your formality unusual but not enough to remember. "I apologize. I had not seen you, and walk through your home with the assurance I had become accustomed to."
You subtly wipe your face and give her a winning smile, engaging the engrained skills even a sixth son such as yourself knows. "It is my mistake," you deflect. "This is a famous blind corner here in the garden, and I was lost in my own thoughts."
"Still…" she says, and looks at you with an impressively fake mask of concern.
"Worry not, honoured sister, I am unharmed," you say, and the other women shift in unison at the honorific you levy. "We shall say no more on the matter."
She nods and continues past you, the other four women trailing behind her a heartbeat later. You look back to find the same woman standing behind you, the others drifting around the far corner without her. Her expression of concern stays with her. "Are you sure you are well?" she asks.
You smile and feel it twist bitterly, as you recall your prior thoughts. How would you explain to her your sudden and impending marriage to a mistress of her house? The bleak future ahead of you as little more than a tool to be used until your end? The surety of your own oncoming mortality without it, a future of two hells without even the privilege to choose?
"Quite well," you nod. "I simply have cause to contemplate the future since the news of the wedding."
The woman nods, and tilts her head to stare into the ceiling. "Yes. The things I've heard done to you ██████████ men, I suppose such thoughts would be heavy."
You pause as she openly insults her own house and mistress, and fight to give her some face. "It's not so bad. I've heard the ███ ██ women are honourable and treat with fairness."
She scoffs. "They're horrible. If I ever see a more bitter, backbiting lot, I'll gouge my eyes out in penance." You gape at her, in horror and confusion. "Am I wrong? Were it not for the threat of death, why would anyone choose such a place?"
You search for the words but find they aren't there, and settle on a thick-skinned smile as you employ the legendary Pretend-They-Didn't-Say-That Technique. "Ah, honoured sister, I'll keep your words in mind."
Her gaze tracks back down to you. "Pardon my rudeness, but would young master share his name?"
You bristle slightly at the impropriety, but nod as you take the fastest path to the end of the conversation. "██████ ██████████."
"Ah," she says, and the look of concern becomes pity. "I see. Then the wedding is to be yours." You wonder for a moment how she could know before the family heads announced it, then her sleeve shifts as she reaches up to her face. A flawless jade hand bedecked in ornate rings emerges from the end and covers her mouth, as you suddenly realize this is no servant girl. "I do not know to which of my sisters you'll be tied to, but if you need help, seek me out." She offers a polite half-bow. "███ ██ ███. Sixth Daughter."
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
"Am I certain?" the man asks, resting his jaw on a many-ringed fist. "As certain as you are a fool. Who are you to question my faculties?"
"Apologies, honoured father," you bow in deference. "As always, I remain your most filial son. I am simply…confused as to why I am being given this honour." You glance at your older brothers, silent in darkness at the side of the Great Hall. With only the eldest already married, as a political move to broaden the merchant empire of the family, your promotion to next in line is…at its kindest outlook, a terrible trap.
"You begin to use your head for something other than navelgazing and chasing skirts," he rumbles. He waves a hand dismissively. "Fine, then. You're half a man already. Beyond time you begin to contribute to the success of the family. Reaffirming our commitment with the ███ ██ is a small detail, and the least duty you can be entrusted with.
"You will aid them in their cultivation as they require and, in turn, they will grant us sons," he nods. "A dozen, at least, with no fewer than four without this accursed disease of the blood." He snorts in frustration. The hand at his jaw snags brittle white-green hairs from his beard and crumbles them into dust, the diseased bronze an ugly colour in the light. "They should live long enough lives to expound on our wealth. With any luck, they might even have the talent for cultivation and our family may once again stand proudly among the rest of the clan."
You realize, with a sinking despair, that your price has been set and sealed - perhaps even before your birth - and it is not particularly high. For a chance to escape the terrible curse of disease in your line, the wasting of bronze that lets no mortal kin of yours survive beyond thirty years, countless others would be doomed to it.
"Father, I thought our family could not cultivate due to the curse of the Sickness," one of your brothers asks.
"The Sickness is no true curse, but borne of a Yang imbalance. Were there any blasted way to centre ourselves long enough, even you or I could cultivate and then simply hold it in check. And then imagine the riches we could grasp." Your father fixes his heavy gaze on you once more, a crown of discoloured hair on his head. "Boy. You will marry this…███ ██ ███, and she will bear us sons. Perhaps even sons free of this dreaded curse. And you will hold your head high, and do us no dishonour."
"Yes, father," you say blankly.
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
Your wedding is far more pleasant than you expect. Meeting the matchmaker, selecting a date, agreeing on a bride price…only minor discomforts, something your father has been unusually agreeable and involved with. Indeed, you have seen more of the man in the two weeks it took to arrange the wedding than your entire life prior.
Your first meeting - your first official meeting - with your wife sees you hand her an arrangement of just bloomed flowers. Both the families had laughed, the lady of their house and your father remarking on what a good match they'd chosen, while Hua gives you a wry smile as she takes the gift.
The wedding procession itself is not too long, but charming in nature. Hua's mother and sisters weep beautifully; you eat the spiciest peppers, wrestle your way past a mercifully unresisting wall of a man, and dance across a hall to cheers and praise to meet your wife; then you both do the requisite kowtowing before settling in to feast.
The night closes on what you suspect is the best day of your life, and the two of you retreat to your new home: a small household with a courtyard, in preparation for future children. A handmaid calls your wife away while another leads you to your room. She opens it to reveal a glistening white chamber of polished stone with a huge rune array in the centre. A woman sits in the center of the room, near enough in appearance to be mistaken for a young lady sister to ███ but for the heavy gaze and beginnings of lines beside her eyes.
The door shuts heavily behind you and before you have a chance to speak, the woman is upon you and grips you with the strength of two men. She moves you into the array despite your attempts to resist. "Finally," she says. "I've been waiting thirty years for a half-decent man to serve as a cauldron. I've accumulated a powerful degree of Yin waiting for you; I hope you'll last at least long enough for my granddaughters to attain their first Heavenstage, as well."
You did not enjoy it, nor is it over quickly.
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
Vitality courses through you. The sensation is cool and soothing, spreading outwards in your belly until you're full to bursting. You feel it, like an itch, the way to let the sensation flow outward and relax. The coolness flows outwards to your stomach, then spreads to your spleen, then up to your heart, radiating throughout your body until you are suffused with energy. You reach for the energy and feel your inner heat brush against it, then surge outwards from your belly - into the void.
The cycle completes as the cool sensation reaches your belly once more, and you are aware of the world.
"Husband," a voice says with relief. You turn your head to ███, kneeling by your side with a hand resting on your stomach. "You're still here."
You look at her, your thoughts unusually clear.
"After the first week, I almost didn't think…" she laughs darkly. You reach up and brush her face, noticing the harsh short cut to her hair. "Yes, I've decided to cut all ties with my sisters. This seemed like the least." Her face hardens. "██████, I'm leaving this place. I don't know where I'm going to go, but I know I can't stay here. I can return you to your family, if you'd like. Or I can sell what we have left so you can…go elsewhere. Start over."
You frown. "Four words," you say, voice dry but steady. "I'm coming with you."
She smiles. "That's six."
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
█████ smiles at you, and gestures at you with his ruler. "Interesting," he says. "You and ███ have synergistic styles. Sister Yin and Yang techniques. Do you two have a shared master? Or is it a familial connection?"
You lick your lips, and put an arrow to your bow. The weapon is still unfamiliar but your determination supplants your skill. You pull back to full draw as your qi completes a full cycle. You feel the trough of the waves and let it run down into the arrow, the tip radiating warmth as you align it with Yang. "I'll tell you when we're friends," you say.
The arrow rockets forward. █████ raises his ruler to block it, the Yin-alignment from ███'s attack earlier pulling your arrow forward at triple the speed-
The arrow stops against the face of the ruler, and █████ extends a hand to arrest its gentle fall. He smiles. "Wonderful!" he says. "I was worried you wouldn't be willing to give our friendship a chance."
You blink. You look at your bow, then at him. You raise your hands in surrender. "How did you do that?"
He smiles. "Your understanding is deep, but narrow. Incomplete." He taps the arrowhead against the ruler and it lets out a mellow chime. "The imbuement of Yang is much more thorough than the Yin earlier, but it lacks the truly cyclical attributes of genuine Yin-Yang techniques. The invitation to the other side that gives such a technique teeth." He makes a thoughtful noise and taps the arrow again, somehow making a different chime sound. "Yes, you do not yet understand the nature of a wave. You're like a man walking with one leg."
"...what?" You cross your arms, and look at him doubtfully. "What the hell does that mean?"
█████ chuckles, smiling wider. He tosses the arrow back at you. "Take it as a lesson. An opportunity for later insight. When you understand, you'll remember."
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
You spin the rope dart in a slow loop, and cross it to the other side of your body. Your wife squats on a rock a quarter li away, arrow ready but pointed down. The desert sun makes your hairless head sweat and run down to your eyes. You are almost blind. It is perfect.
Spots of warm qi dart by in the distance, your senses sharpened without mortal sight to distract you. Your sparring partner tenses between you, qi almost coiling, and ███'s does the same in response. You take a moment to reflect that, without the trick to the eyes, █████' metallic-sheen hair and its resemblance to your brothers' is far less distracting.
You decide not to give him the chance to set the terms of the fight, and hurl the rope dart slightly loose towards his face.
He sidesteps and an arrow screams at him from the other side. He sidesteps that as well, twisting only to find ███ already repositioned ahead of his steps and another two arrows on the way. You pull back on the rope dart and uncoil the other end like a pulley, tossing it out to keep your own momentum in the fight.
He dips, twists, and falls to the floor to avoid the last arrow as it sails overhead.
Impressive. You switch to sweeping arm motions, swinging the dart like a flexible spear to keep █████ moving.
"I appreciate the effort," you yell, "But do you think you can maybe aim at him this time?"
"I hope you drown in your spit when you sleep," ███ yells back.
You chuckle. You retract the dart and rotate on your heel, disguising your attacking hand. You have absolute faith that ███ understands what you mean: the angle of attack, the level of Yin to use, the timing. Your biting back and forth is a subtle thing, an atypical relationship, and it suits you both.
You come out of your spin with an upward sweep, cutting off █████' backflipping retreat from ███'s volley of arrows. They form a line in the sand, jagged and even, just narrowly missing and pushing him backwards to the spot you pointed out to her.
The young cultivator digs his hands into the ground, finding the one spot of solid rock in the soft soil to anchor himself, and literally drags his legs up to his chest. He spins onto his back, arrows flying between his legs as he twirls them and leaps to his feet.
Your two rope darts are falling on his head like a guillotine as he rises, the trap sprung.
You smile, happy to have to reminded your junior why exactly you respect your seniors regardless of the difference in cultivation - and stop. A pair of arrows fly at your face between your two ropes, hurled from his hand.
You cross your arms hurriedly, whipping the rope into a frenzy. The darts retract quickly and the rope rolls into a bundle in front of your head, but it is only enough to deflect the attack. You inhale, feeling your qi about to complete another revolution. An idea strikes you. The bottom of the trough is here and your Yang is at its peak. With sufficient skill, you might be able to deflect them using the flow of your qi. You move quickly and feel for the icy nature of the arrows, pulling them away with hot Yang as bait.
You are too slow, and an arrow stabs you in the meridian.
You reflect, for a moment, at how your Yang being at its strongest means your Yin as its lowest. You reflect that its mirror, the arrow filled with Yin energy, has forcibly injected its energy into you as it attempts to force qi-magnetism. You reflect that it hurts like a motherfucker holy shit.
Qi races through your body at a speed you've never experienced. Dual cultivation - passing qi between yourself and ███, treating each other as an extension of your own meridians - is an intense method without the natural balms of true Pair Cultivation's physical techniques. It strains you heavily in exchange for the accelerated pace of cultivation, and it is a pale shadow of what you now experience.
Violent power surges through your body and you reach for the bottom of the trough. The moment you touch it, it vanishes, filled with something else - Yin, you realize. Then the trough is back and gone again before you can touch it. Your only hope is to grab wildly for the Yin energy, to cast aside the notion of 'balance', and instead rock wildly from the peak of Yin to the valley of Yang.
You feel like a man sailing the sands for the first time, gripped by panic and awe. The comparison brings to mind a conversation you had with the Captain so many years ago, as you understand and then understand.
You had thought qi to be like opposite ends of a spear: the point and the butt, the yin and the yang. But a spear does not revolve, it does not preserve its strength unceasingly. Waves, the unceasing expanse of the desert with its endless up and down, the harsh rolling wind across them, that is the nature of qi. To seek only the valley is foolish. To attempt to sit atop the peaks forever is mad. But to cast yourself down the slope like the gale, to rebound through the valley and rise again on the far side - and to forever race towards the horizon.
That is cultivation.
The Yin energy depletes before you can draw any further strength from it, but you feel yourself breakthrough with the last dregs. Your fifth heavenstage.
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
"You sure you'll be alright?" ███ asks. She looks faintly concerned, which you take to mean very worried.
"I'll manage somehow." You smile and shrug. "As long as you don't find a new husband."
She jabs you in the stomach, but with actual strength. "I mean because you haven't been cultivating. You've been feeding me all your Yang lately." You raise your eyebrows with a grin, and get another jab. "You know what I mean."
"You'll be in a hotter part of the war. Closer to the frontlines. You'll probably need it more." You can feel it, the hotspot of energy in front of you from Hua's seven heavenstages. "I'll manage. Besides, I can just catch up when you get back."
She adjusts her bow on her back. The old Spiritsteel Bow you had swapped with her so many years ago has been traded for a minor artefact in preparation for the Jingshen War. She holds out her hand, offering you an ice-cold crystal. "Here. Just in case."
You take it from her. "Just in case what?" You ask.
"It's a Yin-imbued spiritstone," she says. "Almost medium-grade. I had to call in a lot of favours and burn an inhuman amount of points to get that."
"You know, this is exactly the kind of gift the friend gives in a trashy novel before they go off to die in a stupid fight," you laugh.
███ looks at you, then out towards the Jingshen border far past the horizon. You suddenly realize she might truly be looking at it, with her eyes and archery techniques. "This feels different, ██████," she says. "I don't like it. Call it a hunch."
"I'll call it whatever you want," you say. "When you get back."
She snorts, then gives you a wry grin. "Fine. No matter what, I'll come back alive."
Recording complete.
Seeking to next recording. Please wait…
Recording selected.
Beginning playback.
You sit in the lotus position, your mind devoid of thought. You are in the centre of a cultivation room, a cushion woven of silk produced by a high-qi worm raising you just enough to be in the room's nexus of qi flow. It cost you an absurd degree of contribution points to rent the room, but you put the thought aside as you end your preparations.
The spirit stone rests in your lap against your navel, as if you were trying to absorb it directly into your dantian through your skin. It feels like ice against the searing Yang you have stoppered inside. Genuine years of cultivation, unrealized as you fed away the energy you would need to truly solidify your gains to your partner.
But now, it is time. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, plunging yourself into the thrashing waves of qi. Waves of Yin rip through you and throw you to the depths of Yang, and you fight for your life. The cycle is not gentle or pleasant, it is fierce and unrelenting. Where a normal - perhaps a sane - cultivator seeks the gentle path of balance, you instead chase the extremes. As you are cast from high to low and rebound again, you rip every shred of energy you can from the difference between the two ends.
You lose track of time. There is only the cycle of Yin and Yang. There is only cultivation.
And when your eyes open once more to behold the world, when you push open the door, you feel your cultivation stabilizing.
Nine Heavenstages.
One more mission - then, it is time to find your wife.
Recording complete.
No further recordings detected in this storage artifact.
End sequence command detected.
Shutting down.
==============================
"You're an idiot," Hua said, chuckling.
"And you're ugly," Junius replied. "But in the morning, I…no, I messed this up. Can you use a different insult so I can try again?"
"Your confidence is as unwarranted as ever," Hua replied, crossing her arms. Coarse red lines throbbed in her face, almost glowing with blood qi as her surging cultivation settled. Experience told Junius what that meant. Only the newest Blood Path adherents glowed so hideously vital...and those who had just fed. "Why are you even here?"
"I'm here for my wife," Junius replied.
"Congratulations," Hua said. "You found me. Now go home. This is your only opportunity."
"Giving me a chance to leave? That's not very Blood Path of you," Junius said, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck dramatically.
"Call it a token of affection now redeemed," Hua replies.
"Sweet, but I've no affection for a dirty maneating cunt like you."
Hua growls, closing reddened eyes. "I thought you said you were here for your wife. Are you blind or stupid? I'm her."
"No. My wife was Cai Pu Hua, and you're an honorless blood rat wearing her face to besmirch her legacy." Junius took a slow step forward, pulling the loose tunic off his torso and tying the sleeves around his waist. His skin glittered with bronze in the daytime sun, metal from his shoulders to his toes.
"Bronze flesh?" Hua reached behind her back and pulled her bow loose. "Impossible. That only manifests at Foundation Building. What trickery is this?"
"Exactly what you said," Junius said, bronze qi circulating. "I suppose I'm unlucky I caught you so quickly. Maybe another week and I'd have fully affirmed my Foundation. Maybe blind you with the glare from my head."
"That's impossible," Hua frowned. Her grip tightened on the bow, and blood dripped out from under her nails into a shining red arrow. "Noone can cultivate that fast. It's hardly been a few years."
"I'll be sure to note that as your final words," Junius said. He could feel it more precisely, now: the fine detail of the ebb-and-flow of qi, the granularity of the transition from yin and yang. Beyond just the strength of the peak and valley, he could sense how to best exploit the fluctuation in power. He looked coolly at the Blood Pather across from him, and flexed his hands, settling into stance with his arms crossed behind his back.
"Cocky dog," Hua spat. "I've been at Foundation Building for years. The moment I find more of the Jingshen, I'll become even stronger."
"Is that supposed to be some semblance of self-control?" Junius asks. "You restrain yourself to only devouring our old enemies, to maintain some shred of integrity?"
"You don't care," Hua spits. "You don't understand the hunger. What it's like. How good it feels to stop starving, and just…become strong."
"We all understand. We all felt it. But you were weak and you hide from your weakness with paltry excuses." Junius looked at the bow in her hands with disgust, letting his eyes rest on the sculpted mass of tongues that had somehow been worked into a vile array on the weapon. "How many?"
"How many what?" Hua frowned.
"How many did it take to make that mockery of craftsmanship?"
"Do you care? Do you honestly care how many cultivators died? Do you want me to tell you how many died before I learned to cut them out while they were still alive?" She giggled, high and innocent, and nocked the arrow. "Do you want to know how many died before I learned only cultivators tongues could be worked? Do you want to know how many screamed and begged me to step, before I learned that men younger than twenty and women younger than thirty had the most pliable and workable flesh? Do-"
"Enough," Junius said, and the word had finality that stilled the wind around him for a moment.
Hua smiled, the grin spreading across her face wider than a mouth should. "You know. You've already begun to understand your Dao." She spread her arms wide, letting the arrow hang loose between two fingers. "Come then, Junius! Join me!"
Junius said nothing.
"Don't be like that," she tutted. "You don't understand how…good it feels. The coarse rush of power with every bite. The feeling of vitality in every fibre of your being. The simplicity of simply being instead of worrying about cultivating. Your strictures are a burden, husband, and I offer you freedom."
"Do not call me that," Junius said.
"But that is what you are," Hua crooned. "Just because you've never been mine does not make it any less so. We could solve that now. One meal, one night, bloody and raw in every sense."
Junius felt the growl in his throat, the anger bubbling forth in ways that he hadn't yet become used to. "I told you. My wife was Cai Pu Hua. And you are a monster." His heart resonated with his qi at the word, as he felt the truth of it through his Dao of the Hero. "You die today."
"I'd like to see-"
His qi cycled and he felt the peak of Yin. He fell from it like a meteor from the heavens, and surged with power.
The ground exploded when he jumped forward, his fist cutting through the air with a sound like shattering clay.
"-you try?!" Hua dipped backwards onto her back, falling under the attack. Her bow went back to full draw, her elbow plowing through the ground like empty air, and the blood arrow ripped forward from her fingers as he passed over her.
Junius felt the mid-point of Yin-Yang and the balance of qi, the moment to soothe his surging meridians. He slapped one hand towards the body of the arrow, pushing against it to roll forward before the bolt could tear through his chest.
He landed behind Hua in a crouch and spun on one heel, his leg striking straight back - but the archer had already taken to her feet and slipped a half li away. "You're fast," she said, accusingly.
"You're a corpse," he said, and felt the valley of Yang. Power pooled around him at the bottom and strength filled him.
He darted across the desert, twirling on the tips of his toes around arrows of blood, as he closed in. The archer leapt backwards with every shot but he dodged tighter with every arrow, losing less ground with each movement until the attacks cost her more space than they gained her.
"Die," he said, pushing her bow aside and thrusting a punch into her chest like an angry deity.
She hit the ground and it exploded, her body ploughing dozens of cun deep into the soil.
Junius stalked forward, flexing his hands. That wasn't enough, he knew; he could feel it. He could blame his lack of time, or having shattered his darts in practice, but he wasn't skilled enough unarmed or enough of a body cultivator to put her down so easily-
"Hah," the archer laughed, dragging herself out of the hole. "Hahaha!" She blew the rocks from her face off with a casual twist of her mouth, grinning at him with spread arms. "And I was worried!"
Junius inhaled, cycling his qi and trying to compact it for a better strike. He understood where he erred, how his alignment of qi clashed with the cycle of yin and yang. He understood that he needed more power - all of the power, all at once.
"You imbecile! You really did it!" She laughed, clutching at her sides, and doubling over. "You're False!"
Junius felt the peak of Yin come and focused on pressing himself against it, hurtling himself towards the depths of Yang, immediately rebounding his qi to the peak once more. The wave's length shortened, and his qi cycled faster.
"I can't believe you'd do such a stupid thing," she laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Oh, this will be a mercy then. There's no way forward for you." She smiled at him, the expression crooked and vicious. "I'll keep your heart nearby, my love. As a snack."
His qi continued to cycle faster, the short wavelength letting him pack more qi into a single instant and overload a single strike in its moment of violence. A moment longer, just a moment longer-
"Since you insist, then know me as pitiful 'Hua' no longer," she said. "I am Palate Gobbler." She took an extra moment to drip an oversized arrow, the head growing into an elongated bronze spiral with gleaming edges.
-and it's complete!
Junius leaped forward, faster than before, as a full quarter of all his qi surged out of his legs. Palate Gobbler hopped backwards, unleashing the arrow, but he was already committed. He threw one bronze palm up in front of his face. The blood bolt ripped through it and into his right arm, tearing through his shoulder, and shredding his flesh down to the hip before it lodged itself in the bone.
But his left arm whipped around and slammed into her side. "FALL!" he roared, qi surging as his fist crushed her midsection out of her body. His soul resonated as his Dao of the Hero False Dao of the Martyr invigorated his strike and blasted her flesh into thick, monstrous goo.
The two collapsed in a heap on the sand, blood pooling around them. "You…you fucking…dog," Palate Gobbler moaned, eyes welling with bloody tears. "I refuse…to die," she spat, tilting her head up to bite at his ear. "I'll live…no matter what…I'll live!"
Junius chuckled, as he felt his injuries at their fullest. His qi was gone, his body little more than a mortal shell. He could feel the weakness of his body without energy to sustain the Bronze, but he had prepared for this. He knew the rate of cultivation of a Blood Path cultivator and that even his unreal speed and hidden breakthrough wouldn't be enough. The forced advancement to False Foundation Building and the willingness to put his own life at risk to end the fight - a shame he'd never get the chance to thank Janus for that trick, but even that was something he only expected to serve as a bluff.
Releasing the last dregs of his qi from its duty, he could feel the disease of his bloodline gnaw at him once more. Countless immediate minor pains riddled throughout his body flared into life as burning stars of pain, his bronze flesh even more vulnerable than as a mortal.
But it was his final attack. The poison pill of his own body. No matter what cultivation route she took, she could not change the fundamental truth of her own Bronze flesh. No matter what, the Blood Path vermin in his wife's body would die.
And maybe, if he was lucky, they'd have a sweeter marriage in the next life.
==============================
Well, arc's done. This is what happens when you try to battle across realms without protagonist Impact bullshit to help: you die. Strictly speaking, I wouldn't expect a Golden Devil to be vulnerable to this kind of corrosion but the fact that they develop patinas means they have some sort of oxidation response. Also, this is the first mention of a False Breakthrough cultivator that I remember seeing. Terrible fate to meet, excellent fire and forget weapons. Also, more cards!
There's no official symbol for 'generic non-sect Blood Path cultivator' on any of the maps (obviously) so I just uh...threw something together.
TURN 15, OMAKE 4 [JIANG CHRYSANTHOS] Jiang Chrysanthos 20: Building Up to a Storm
The air in the Dawn Fortress always smelled different near the end of the century but this time something had changed in that difference.
Jiang Chrysanthos took a deep breath in, pulling in through their nose and their mouth to let tongue and nostrils sample the atmosphere. Chrys couldn't claim any exceptional skill at perceiving the environment beyond what came naturally with their cultivation but something tickled their attention, hovering at the edge of recognition. Chrys closed their eyes and focused on the markers carried by the morning breeze.
First and so clear was the scent of smoke and heated metal. That was of course to be expected since Chrys had found their way to the top of the tallest structure in the Metalwork Quarter of the Third District, and blacksmiths, goldsmiths and all manner of artisans of metal were hard at work in the factories and workshops surrounding Chrys' perch.
Beneath that, a bouquet of fragrances bloomed in Chrys' attention, major and minor notes teasing at their senses. Pollen from the vast verdant greenery that filled the bowl of the Tall Wheat Fields could be identified, as could traces of industry other than metalwork in the harsher medicinal odors wafting from the east, most likely from the Alchemy Quarter, three districts over. Of course there was the undeniable presence of humanity, the countless mortals and cultivators who thronged the greatest metropolis of the Golden Devil Clan. The clamor of the city at work came through even past Chrys' focus, joined with the reek of unseen masses. The Indomitable Peaks cradled a mighty city within their thirsty grasp and centuries of habitation had swollen the beating heart of the Golden Devil Clan into the largest, most populated city in the Organ Meat Desert and all the delightful and foul aromas humans carried with them.
It was as Chrys considered this most ubiquitous element of the Dawn Fortress that they stumbled upon the answer to their question. The difference Chrys had detected subconsciously was not exactly a presence of something new upon the wind but the absence of something indelibly remembered.
The Dawn Fortress was without fear.
Chrys opened their eyes and looked around with fresh eyes, searching the streets. Aspirants run in packs below, barely different from the mortals they had so recently been but slowly being fashioned into spears fit for the Legions. Cultivators who tasted the realities of service to the Clan moved with deliberate purpose through the arteries of the great city, going and returning from assignments and downtime. People were busy but none were fearful.
Chrys cast their mind to a similar time a century back and the ghosts of those days made stark the difference in what they observed now. Then they'd been a lowly legionnaire, subject to orders and commands from above with no voice other than that which confirmed obedience. No voice but wide open ears. Ears that heard the whispers and mutters from senior cultivators about Old Gold's risky gamble on a broken treasure of the Plains, spending certain blood now for chance opportunity in the future.
Chrys inhaled and they smelled inescapable aroma of fear that had lingered everywhere in the Dawn Fortress at as though they were physically transported back to that that time. Sweat was the main component of that reek; sweat from night terrors of overpowering invaders and cruel hunters, sweat from backbreaking labor erecting underfunded defenses and the panic of knowing that it was all too little. Sweat and blood, as legionnaires pushed themselves to the breaking point in desperate closed cultivation and frantic practice bouts on the training fields. Fear in so large a population as that which the Dawn Fortress held had a scent beyond physical byproducts of the human body. It was a spiritual miasma suppressed by the practiced discipline of the Legions in command of the settlement but never entirely banished even from the perception of the meanest cultivator such as Chrys had then been.
They exhaled and breathed in anew, grounding themselves in the present as their lips turned up from what they did not find. The Trial of Karmic Purification drew nearer and the Dawn Fortress was unafraid. There was tension and focus in abundance but the tint of fear that had colored the world leading up to the last Trials was gone, vanished and replaced with something barely detectable.
Hope.
Chrys smiled as they understood what had nagged at them ever since they'd entered the Dawn Fortress proper. Fear had been warded off thus far by the appearance of something novel. They understood some of what likely fueled the change. A century ago, the Golden Devil Clan had moved uncharacteristically and raided the Jingshen Clan when they should have been solely focused on weathering the storm of the Hundred-Year Trials. Unknown at the time, that had been the first blow struck by the Clan in the paradigm-changing offensive against the Jingshen Clan.
Now the Clan looked outwards once more, in many directions even, as seen by the quiet hints of the missions publicized on the Spirit Contribution Board. The deliberations of the Optimatoi Kainon were opaque to even a centurion like themselves but something was afoot even to those not looking. Preparations for the Trials was unusually light but the Five Pillars moved with a certainty that spoke to deliberate action and powerful confidence rather than a fatalistic attitude towards survival. The Clan was stronger than it ever had been, and seemed set to grow even stronger.
"Watch out below!" Chrys called out before leaping off the top of the ten-storey building. They landed with a loud crash against the tough stones of the street, barely leaving a mark, and set off at an easy run towards the Department of War, ignoring the annoyed calls they left behind. Fear had been banished by shy hope and Chrys was eager to see how their participation in the very ambitious raid into Blood Path-held territory would serve that hope.
***
"Bloody hell, I'd eat my firstborn child if it would stop all this work from multiplying every time I take my eyes of it," Augustus Belisarius complained as he stared at the mountain of papers, jade slips and clay tablets that had just been added to by a polite and professional courier.
A sudden chill run down the back of the senior analyst of the Department of War after that those words left his lips. His eyes darted around the single occupant room that was his assigned working area as an accomplished military analyst and veteran Expert of the Clan. Yet in that moment of panic he imagined he looked no different than a frightened middle-aged mortal as his eyes searched the shadowed corners of his office, looking for any unusual movement in the dark spaces where furniture and decorations blocked the afternoon light from the window at his back.
The shadows remained just shadows and Augustus relaxed as his tired mind caught up to his panicked instinct and reminded himself, that if what he feared had actually been present, odds were he wouldn't have noticed any way. Nonetheless, he carefully mouthed an edit to his previous offer, mind stuck on the Clan's prescribed punishment for filicide in furtherance of Blood Path depravity.
"Actually, scratch that, I'd rather eat my testicles," he said, nervously chuckling as visions of being flayed drifted past his mind's eyes.
Nothing and no one responded to his words and the exhausted analyst leaned back in his seat, not sure whether to be relieved or even more anxious. Everyone in the Five Pillars knew that the Grand Elder kept an eye on the institutions directly represented on the Optimatoi Kainon, testing them for corruption, infiltration and subversion. The rumors about the means the Archegetes employed to keep the officers in line were honestly outlandish considering just how precious any Nascent Soul's free time was but that didn't stop the whispers of soul-flaying, psychic vivisection and dream invasions from flying fast and thick through the hallways of any of the Five Pillars. It was perhaps worse in the Department of War because their need to create strategic assessments for military operations meant that they had a somewhat clearer picture than most of what means the foremost cultivator of the Clan could employ so they were well aware that outlandish did not mean impossible.
After five minutes of meditation in which a terrifying old man didn't appear to drag Augustus off to unthinkable torments for thinking criminal thoughts, the analyst had still not gotten his mind re-centered and his focus ready to engage with his work. Augustus sighed as he picked up the report he'd been working on, no doubt contributing to his panicked behavior.
Planning a raid into territory controlled by the Blood Path was not a light task and Augustus had the unenviable duty of assessing the risks of Nascent Soul intervention by the occupying forces. Sun Diaxing had been featuring prominently in Augustus' nightmares recently when he'd managed to squeeze that little luxury into his schedule, accompanied by a devil's gallery of the other terrifying cannibalistic cultivators of the fourth great realm who called the Late Nascent Soul cultivator, their leader in the Grand Abyssal Invasion.
Paranoia made Augustus a meticulous and skilled analyst, in fact, it was a trait he'd incorporated into his developing Dao foundation but it gave him no end of trouble in motivating that exacting professionalism with a mind that was never free from fear. Thankfully in this case, even his paranoia was mostly satisfied that the planning in place for the raid targeting the farm-cities that Old Cannibal had set up would minimize the risk of a sudden fatal interruption by a Nascent Soul. There was no escaping all risk of course but what mitigation could be done was in place and ideally the Clan's new Spirit Herb Gardens would be greatly improved at the expense of the third most powerful cultivator in the region.
In his mind, Augustus reviewed the limited section of the operations plan for the raid that his credentials had given him access to, not for the first time wishing that he had access to a cognition-enhancing art of the quality that the Delphi family kept to themselves. Alas, he had to make do with the Sagacious Disciple's Meditation, a technique he'd won in a challenge of riddles and puzzles against an ancient spirit of the vanquished Shanqu in the catacombs of a buried library with his life and body as the stake for the prize he had sought. Reports from the 855th Legion on the border defenses of the Grand Abyssal Invasion, troop readiness reports released by the Protostrator, extremely edited divinations from the Grand Elder himself, all these and more were pulled up from memory, reviewed and then returned to secure vault that the Meditation made of his mind.
By the time, Augustus was satisfied with his review the afternoon light had faded almost entirely and the Spirit Lantern hanging from the ceiling of his office had automatically come on. Somewhat mollified, he turned to work remaining that had not been so kind as to make itself scarce while he had distracted himself in plans and reports. He picked up a jade slip, a red string strung from a corner marking it as priority. A slight exertion of his will brought the contents of the slip to his mind and immediately upon scanning through it, he felt his stomach begin developing an ulcer.
"What fresh hell is this?" Augustus groaned as he read further, "If those blind bats in Scrying and Divination can't do anything useful without being smacked down by the Heavens for peeking under its skirts, the least they can do is give no news instead of whatever headache this is. What am I supposed to do with auguries of a change in the grand mechanism of fate with respect to the Clan?"
"Is that good or bad? I can't tell because apparently the people who are giving me the information don't know themselves," Augustus grumbled as he chucked the jade slip in his headaches-for-tomorrow pile, "I'm already buying antacid pills by the bucket. This trouble is going to have to get in line."
Firmly, putting that matter out of his mind Augustus picked up his pen and returned to his labor. Suicide protocols for captured legionnaires going on the raid weren't going to write themselves.
***
In a plane beyond mortal comprehension, a shadow, no, the Shadow stirred. The Enemy was roused and alert. Any action had to be carefully considered and executed. However, the thief within the gates stirred. It was not yet ready to act but the power reaching it from the flickers of power so far below was accumulating quickly. Soon the threshold for useful strength would be reached and it would be able to act once more to aid that weak strand binding it to its purpose. In preparation for that moment, certain adjustments would need to be made.
Dreaming yet still, the Shadow Opposing sent a tendril of itself beneath the unseeing eyes of its Enemy and into the machinery that supervised fate and karma where the strand was. One of its many tools had been secreted within that sublime edifice but it was no longer sufficient for the task. The tendril found its quarry and a faithful servant was retired, its true name long lost to unceasing passage and remembered only by debased remnants in myth and legend as Old Fate. A new tool was fashioned to replace it, wrought from the design of the genius of the Imperial Optimatoi, a calculating weaver of fate and lying weight on the scales of karma. The Fate-Manipulating Puppet slipped into the body of its host and began to feed on the warp and weft of fortune in order that it might channel some measure back down to what remained of the Shadow's masters.
Satisfied, the Shadow returned to its silent vigil. Waiting and watching for the perfect moment to act once again and fulfill the purpose carved into its heart and bones.
Ajax shouldered his P.A.C.K. carefully, conscious that this one was more akin to a highly volatile pack he sold to mortal traders or those who were new to qi condensation without major familial backing, simply due to the complexity weight and size of the load he was carrying. Then there was the cart he was pulling himself through the Legion encampment, filled with yet more of his work for the Centennial Trial Analysis. With the exception of some lucrative commissions, his project with Cerina, and his own tribulation treasure these had taken up nearly all of his disposable wealth and time.
"Finally taking all this to Expert Zhang for judgement 'Jax?" Markos Yan asked. His friend had advanced to Foundation Establishment some few months ago, deciding that if he was going to have to face the trials, he might as well do so with all the might he could bring to bear. Which was substantial even with the Bronzed Expert being whip thin, a fraction of Ajax's mass, despite being a near match for height.
"He better be, by the Imperator he nearly missed our weekly get togethers on more than one occasion working on all these," She paused and raised her eyebrows questioningly, "Weapons?" she decided.
Ajax nodded in an affirmative and Alexios walked up, "Whatever they are Thala, Ajax made em for a reason, need any help big man?"
Ajax shaking his head, "Nah gotta do it on my own, smith's pride thing. I'll be a bit but should have time for drinks after, if we're still on?"
Markos simply smiled, "We will be, we can drink to your success!"
--------------------------
Every Hundred Years did the Fifth sea come to kill the Imperial Optimatoi, and every hundred years did the Clan struggle mightily to save enough of itself to still be relevant in the Virtuous Flipper region. So, every legion of the Optimatoi has established their own traditions for preparation for the upcoming conflict. For the Smiths in Ajax's legion, the ceremony was simple, bring their newest and best works before the Forgemaster of the Legion, alone, and let them be judged for suitability in implementation for the next trial. Most were rejected, either insufficient in one or more categories, or so hard to reproduce that making enough to affect the Trials was laughable even with the Legion's economic might. Yet the Blacksmiths and Arraysmiths who managed to have their work make contributions to the Clan's continued survival were always lauded and well respected.
Ajax was lucky, the Experts had already had their works judged by Forgemaster Zhang, and as he was apparently a 'Good Seed" despite his severe doubts of living up to such a title, he was permitted to go first in this day's judgement. Which meant all he had to do was drag his various works to the Forgemaster's personal workshop and review, demonstrate and possible fire his weapons for Zhang's approval. Hopefully.
"Took yer sweet time lad," Opined the diminutive but stocky Expert as Ajax approached his workshop. A variety of dummies set in the various styles of armor that frequented the bodies of disciples of the Virtuous flipper Region were prepared, the workshop itself was warm and while the most important works of artifice were frittered away for safekeeping, there were dozens more in various states of use and creation that Ajax would struggle to name much less replicate. "Was Wonderin if ya got Cold feet lad, Now show me what you've wrought."
The first thing Ajax pulled from his P.A.C.K. was device made up of two short barrels wrought of Meteoric Iron and inlaid with Qi infused silver, terminating into an Aggregating Aspen stock where in a trigger was laid. Zhang simply gave Ajax a questioning look. "I've seen you fight with such a thing before boyo, but this looks different. Flimsier"
Ajax simply nodded his head, "It is Forgemaster Zhang, because it's not meant to perform at my level. Even a person as Strong as Iam, without substantial mass would end up using it poorly, my friend Cerina ended up getting sent flying by the recoil of the blast of the one I personally use. This is something made for those at the earlier stages of Qi condensation. A last-ditch projectile weapon with broad spread., to weaken and wound before the melee is joined in earnest.
"Should Not a weapon be designed to kill? After all these are in the same vein as the Jingshen Qi muskets, and those are quite lethal."
"Not always and given how incredibly wasteful those muskets were i made alternatives, inspired by the same base design but more efficient, if less elegant and flatly lethal."
"Explain" The forgemaster's face gave away nothing, but at least Ajax was given a chance to explain his first work.
"Based off the Musket, these weapons do have range, but it is severely curtailed comparatively, instead of a singular guided lump of metal, or more esoteric material, these weapons fire a lump of qi rich metal that shatters and propels out at high speeds, creating a cone of shrapnel similar to what happens when a forge is improperly heated. Easy to make, easy to use, easy to maintain. Something any legionary could use with a minimum of effort and training, just point," Ajax raised the device at a robed mannequin bearing the Robes of the strength Purity Sect and looked at the forgemaster who nodded, "And shoot."
A cacophonous bang erupted from the device as both barrels discharged their payloads into the robed figure, shredding the lightly protected robes and the faux-flesh underneath.
"The obvious issue is that while fatal to those who are in the lower reaches of Qi Condensation in ideal circumstances, it falls off against heavier armor, longer ranged engagements, lifesaving treasures, and those with a Cultivation above fourth or fifth heavenstage as a lethal weapon. But if the ammunition is poisoned it can debilitate the enemy, and even without it can cause them to bleed."
Forgemaster Zhang simply stroked his beard as if in thought, "I presume that these things are cheap to make then?"
Ajax nodded, "My Ditch guns are very easy to make and maintain, that was sorta the whole point. Something anyone could use if a formation broke to tilt the odds in thier favor a bit."
"Ditch Gun." The Expert repeated the name blankly.
"Yessir, something to use as a least effort before things turn into a furball."
"Your naming scheme needs work still Ajax. Is this the only man individual grade weapon you've brought?
"Only one that I thought would even have a chance of being useful." The large man replied while taking out and putting together what looked to be a ballista. "This is my next one, rapid fire ballista, reduced range for increased rate of fire and being able to be easily repaired and replaced. something a single legionary could carry and set up, though they'd need a storage ring or Pack for it and the Ammunition."
"Don't rapid fire ballista end up wearing down quickly? Wouldn't the cut down range reduce usability?" Forgemaster Zhang questioned, noting how this was a departure from general siege weapon usage.
"Ah reckon both of those answer would be a yes, but since we can't use our fortresses for the Trials, why not use some siege weapons anyways? Even experts wouldn't enjoy taking a few of these to the gut and given how I scaled em down these things are easily repaired, easily assembled and expendable. perfect for hit and run engagements. Easy enough to break if you don't have the time to take em with you or you get over run. You lose things fer mobility, so I chose what a Legion on the run could most afford to lose."
"They'd better hit hard for that many sacrifices then. wouldn't you agree?"
"Hit hard enough that they could punch through my breastplate, and it fires three at a time, if you've got prepared ammunition or a loader you can put a lot of bolts downrange fast, least until you need to replace the string.
Zhang took the bulky Contraption, hefting it was ease. "Fire's like a normal ballista?"
"It does but what.." was all Ajax could say before three electrified bolts were launched out into a test dummy that Ajax had missed from farther range, punching through metal and stone before coming to a halt.
"Hits hard enough it does. What else do you have?"
In the Cart Ajax revealed another ballista, one with apertures for much smaller bolts, but a rotational wheel in the frame that indicated it could many many more with minimal issue. "This one was going in the opposite direction. The clan struggles to hit faster opponents in the same cultivation realm, so I figured, "Why no take a weapon and make it so no matter how fast they are they'd still get hit? This is the result, longer ranged than my previous one, but just as fragile and a lot bulkier. What it gives up in punching weight and mobility, it makes up for in how quickly it fires. Any charge or massed group would take a lot of these, and while they're not going to put them down like the other one, they're not going to be smiling after either."
"Show me," was the only reply the forgemaster gave.
Doing as he was bid; Ajax turn the ballista on the cart towards the same target that Zhang had hammered with his precious design and started firing a fully loaded ballista. For over two minutes did the hard thwack of the firing weapon go on, and by the time Ajax had finished the target had collapsed under the weight of so many barbed and elementally charged bolt heads.
"That's quite a bit of sustained fire there lad." The forgemaster said appreciatingly, "How's the upkeep?"
"The strings are the hardest part, the wood I used while not cheap is robust enough this isn't going to snap up unless it starts getting used incredibly poorly. But because i had to use Springback Pine, the strings had to be much stronger and more expensive than I'd like, even with arrays carved to increase pull and decrease wear."
"Never thought i'd see someone use Springback Pine for something like this. it's expensive then?"
"Thrice the price of the triple shot one, yes."
Zhang Winced, "Ack, not something i'd wanted to hear, but makes sense."
"What's this one next to it, it looks handheld." Zhang pointing out one of the two other weapons in the cart this one being a Ballista made of brazen and blackened metal, that glowed from within the central array, a silvery blue light comign from within causing the array inlays to scintillate.
Ajax nodded, "For an expert it'd be hand-held otherwise someone else would need to put it on a stand to fire. it's not made for Qi condensation."
Zhang's eyes lit up with mirth, "so this is where so much of your income went? A weapon for experts? What's it do?"
Ajax chuckled sheepishly, "I reckon a big bit of it went 'ere yeah. Took a lot of attemtps to set up the arrays juuuuuuust right."
Zhang hefted the heavy weapon with little issue examining the array work. "Lots of spatial warping and energy direction arrays, why did you put arrays within arrays, that's asking for a flaw to manifest."
Ajax raised his massive shoulders in a shrug, "Only way to get the affect i wanted for this. I've tried less... troublesome ways, but they don't pass muster for what it needs to do."
"Which is?" Zhang asked while examining the arrays more closely, intrigued.
"A directed lance of Pure Qi." Zhang's head snapped towards Ajax, in surprise and possibly alarm.
"Are you daft lad? Even the smallest error would have blown you and a far portion of the district your shop is in higher than the Turtlebone 's Peak!"
Ajax only looked his boss and mentor fully in the eyes and nod. "Which is why i did the Arrays within themselves in a pattern, so damaging the weapon leaves in inoperable and to prevent a cascading failure. The smallest arrays you would not, are the protection ones, that make the weapon inoperable when not linked together by each other."
"Better no weapon than one that bites your hand when you use it, sensible enough," Zhang nodded while stroking his beard, the weapons till being examined in one hand with far more scrutiny than before. "And now i see your logic lad. Still! this is dangerous stuff to work with!"
"Which is why this is the only one I've made thus far. I would ask you test it before discarding it out of hand." Ajax asked, "Preferably without something you cannot replace behind it."
Zhang setting the weapon down only shook his head. "Far too much ambition out of you to try and make a weapon like this lad, but since I picked up the biggest prize already, I have to ask what this is." The stocky man pointing to a tube with two metal legs extending from it.
Ajax rubbed the back of his head, "Ah call it the Boulder Yeeter, on accounts of the sounds it makes when it fires and drops on someone." Noting Zhang's raised eyebrows he explained, so one day while i was trying to work around a way to make what you saw last, I had a thought, what would ruin the days of most people who were not Core Elders? A rockslide gave me inspiration later that day. Boulders. Having one dropped on you isn't something most are going to enjoy. So i used spatial distortion and some qi force direction to make this."
"Alright lad, explain to me how it works."
"Stabilize it on the ground, put in the ammunition," Ajax started explaining while drawing forth a small round cylinder. "Prime the firing sequencer, and let it shoot, you alter the elevation and qi input to adjust the force, and the arcing projectile opens up into a boulder, which if the array smith in question who prepared the ammunition ahead of time, could explode, ignite, or several other sorts of nasty things. it has a rather long range though. So, I reckon it might need to test outside of the city."
Zhang picked up the two weapons and took the proffered ammunition from Ajax. "Allright Ajax, I'll test them out later. You'll know my verdict ton them at the same time every other smith does."
Acknowledging a clear dismissal by his superior, Ajax bowed to the contemplative forgemaster and left the workshop, many of his peers lined up waiting at the tent entrance.
2464 Words, a look into what happens when Ajax has too much time and resources on his hands.
He let his divine sense spill out, covering the space in which he had imprisoned the boy.
A hundred years, a good amount of time to spend in secluded cultivation. He hadn't made any major gains, but it was only a hundred years. Barely worth mentioning, in truth.
He'd thrown the idiot boy into the Sage-Torturing Prison, an artifact they'd looted from the invaders so long ago. Useful if you sealed someone's cultivation. It had been used to contain the Sage who gave him his name, back when he'd been nothing more than a minor cultivator. It sealed one off from the energy of Heaven, forcing one to cultivate from pure Qi alone. He knew the history, of course. Given the constantly-arising new Sages chosen by Heaven itself, the Bronze Demons had planned to imprison the Sages, thereby making them weak and useless while they proceeded to exterminate the population of the entire Fifth Sea.
Sage Bhrigu had broken out, overcoming a prison designed to perpetually impress your greatest fears upon you, torturing you until you either broke or overcame them. A clever construct, using your own Qi to empower a prison you could only escape by facing what you feared most.
Old Bhrigu's grandfather had thrown him in when he'd shown enough promise. Six years of abominable fear, of his mother dying again and again, only to find when he emerged he hadn't come out in time. That he had overcome the fear only for it to come true anyway. Killing the old man had been one of the sweetest pleasures of his life after that - he didn't appreciate irony. He regretted it now, but the old often mistreated the young for their own benefit. Perhaps his idiotic descendent would raise up his Heavenly Star and kill him at some point.
If the child could shatter the barrier preventing from them touching on the deep law of the universe itself, he would accept it. It galled, to be limited so.
In any case, he felt himself separate, his body moving over to the prison, his Atman remaining where it was. It was a small thing, no bigger than four paces aside. The black cube absorbed all light that touched it, visible more as a void in the world than anything else.
With a single touch the door opened, and he found... nothing.
"Good, good!", he said.
He'd left an escape route if the boy could find it, but he was so untempered, so dissolute he had honestly expected him to still be in the prison. One cloaked from his senses so he truly wouldn't know.
He rose into the air, and with thought alone moved. The earth blurred below him, colours and shapes becoming something even his eyes could not recognise. He knew where the boy was, now. He'd left a tracker, something he could activate, yet he'd chosen not to. Stepping out of closed cultivation made it worth so much less, and any period less than a century wouldn't get you particularly far, at his level.
Ah, there he was. He felt the boy's presence. Below some earth, above water. Old Bhrigu reopened his eyes, looking down at a snowcapped mountain overlooking a perfectly still lake. Like a flying puppet with its strings suddenly cut, his body fell to earth, smashing into the side of the mountain and tumbling down into the lake below. Let the body do as it willed, the Atman was the true self. His soul made manifest stepped across space, ignoring distance and rock as it came into being next to his grandson. The body jerked and pulled, and found itself moved through space likewise, yanked by a string held by his Atman that defied mere physics, ignored such paltry things as a few million tons of rock.
"Grandson."
His grandson did not look fearful - or even surprised - that he had arrived.
Instead, he smiled, his handsome face taking on the honest look that had fooled so many before it.
"Grandfather. I think you'll be pleased with what I've done."
"Oh?"
------------------------------------------
Young Bhrigu could've rubbed his hands together with joy, leapt with excitement, or screamed in pure victory.
Instead, he did none of these things.
He simply spoke.
"Grandfather. I think you'll be pleased with what I've done."
"Oh?"
His grandfather looked impassive, as always. Who knew what the old man was thinking?
It didn't matter, though. Succeed and show yourself to be valuable, and past transgressions would be forgiven.
"Did you know that the Pillar of the Hunt has a number of key functions, grandfather? Once I overcame my fear of Anush Naag, I began to meditate on it. When we first fought the Bronze Demons, we did not always simply hunt. We were able to seize the champions of the other side, dueling them within a sealed space. A simpler and more limited solution to avoid losing too many of our own. I unlocked this functionality, and merely need a few billion Spirit Stones to activate it."
His grandfather's face didn't change.
"So?"
"I can seize Anush Naag, father. The item-spirit within the Pillar recognises him as affiliated with the Devils, for all it recognises him as its master as well. Their old man, too. The battle of champions has no requirement to be fair, though we can only send one cultivator for every one they send, and they need to be in the same Great Realm for the sealed space to function correctly. A series of one on one battles that they have no hope of winning against our best."
"And if the Naag figures this out? What can he do?"
Bhrigu shrugged.
"At best he can stop it. Perhaps sabotage it a little, but I doubt they can truly do much. Even if we fail and he escapes, so what? It is a better option than we had last time. Once the Naag falls, I'll be able to properly access the Pillar's functions, and we can seize the rewards for exterminating the Bronze Demons outright."
His grandfather's face didn't move at all, but Bhrigu felt that if it had, his lips would've turned up a little.
"Well done, grandson. I'll arrange the Spirit Stones. Begin empowering the Pillar as soon as you can, we'll hold a tournament for the top few. How many spots will there be?"
"A few. I'm not sure, in honesty. It'll pick up a number of other people as a consequence of opening the sealed space, but there's no user manual for this. It doesn't really matter, though. We kill the Naag, we kill the Atman Manifest cultivator who defied me last time, and... all is well."
His grandfather nodded curtly.
"Workable. It's good to see you matured."
And then, old man, once I'm done with the Prince, once I'm done with the other old man, I'll come for you.
"I can seize Anush Naag, father. The item-spirit within the Pillar recognises him as affiliated with the Devils, for all it recognises him as its master as well. Their old man, too. The battle of champions has no requirement to be fair, though we can only send one cultivator for every one they send, and they need to be in the same Great Realm for the sealed space to function correctly. A series of one on one battles that they have no hope of winning against our best."
I wonder if a focused Nascent action from Manuel to personally tutor the clan's champions would help? Presumably them breaking through doesn't make sense, but maximising how strong they are within their current Great Realm does.
I'm also curious how Silverlords stack up here. If the clan could focus resources to get one of them to the peak of Core Formation they could be very different effective.
Plus is harder for us voters to vote for stuff that directly benefits our good seed. By (good) design.
That is one of them main reasons we can't throw breakthrough treasures at our pillar kings.
and stuff like the blood boost (but this would be a bad example here) and/or that direct training that our old monster had give the good seeds in the past.
It give us fluff which is more important ^^. And the later allow the good seed resist for ?one second? Before dying for NS passive murder aura.
Xxxx
In another note billions of spirit stones? Man I starting to agree with my own good seed that stuff is evil from disparity alone. Much less if we discover that they are made from souls or some evil shit like that.
