by Aaron Oster
Earth
Buryoku
Book Six
Aaron Oster
For my aunt, uncle, and family. May your lake in the woods remain a haven to all of the frogs who defend us from mosquitoes.
Prologue
The earth shifted and rumbled beneath Irusaru’s feet as he stumbled out of the Windblight and into the Burning Hills. The sky overhead was tinged a deep crimson, the air rippling with heat distortions as Fire Essence burned away everything in its path. The power of an Ancient Cavern Beast was vast, but Irusaru barely noticed at all.
His head hung, his feet dragged, and a trail of reddish-brown was left in his wake by the blood dripping from the dozens of small wounds covering his body. He was exhausted in mind, body, and spirit. His Core was nearly depleted, the only thing keeping him going being the little bit of Power Qi he’d managed to scrounge up in the last storm.
While the world around him burned, Irusaru saw only the last few hellish months of his life playing out before his eyes in vivid detail. Over and over, he relived the experiences he’d been forced to endure.
Irusaru’s soul had been trapped by Doragan, though he managed to survive and fought to escape. After regaining a minuscule amount of strength, he’d run into fighters from a clan calling themselves the Inu. After a brutal fight, they’d managed to overpower him and drag him down to their dungeons, where he’d been forced to compete for the entertainment of others to pay off a supposed debt.
The pit fights had been monstrously difficult, and his opponents were powerful. He had age and experience, but the other Purple-Belts had youth. The only reason Irusaru had managed to survive was due to his status as Grandmaster. This title was only given to those who had managed to master all eight techniques of both Essence and Qi and gained the mythical ninth technique: The Conqueror.
It had given him an edge in those fights and had seen him to the top of the Purple-Belt heap. Irusaru ground his teeth when he remembered the humiliation they’d put him through. They’d stripped him of everything. His clothes, pride, even his very identity by calling him some random name while he was there.
His mind tried to scrounge it up, but it seemed that even an insane mind tried to shield its user from time to time. No matter how hard he tried, he could not remember it.
His victory in the tournament should have meant a shot at freedom, but someone had attacked the arena before that came. His cage had been blown wide open, allowing him to escape.
Of course, that hadn’t been the end of his troubles. He’d had no food or water and was waylaid dozens of times over by other wandering Martial Artists, all of whom believed they could take what little he had. Irusaru had killed them all and taken their belongings instead.
His last fight had been against a Beast of sand and stone. It had taken place three days ago and completely depleted what was left of his Core. He’d already been on the verge of collapse then. In fact, he had no idea how he’d managed to muster up the strength to fight.
It was a sign of his sheer exhaustion that his wounds still hadn’t closed, his body having been pushed too far and his Qi being used solely to keep him trudging onward. The low, simmering hatred still burned within him, the injustice at how he’d been treated.
He growled, taking a step and stumbling as his Core sputtered. He caught a flash of Purple from his Belt as he did, seeing the trailing ends with their seven slashes of Red. He was at the peak, yet the world judged him unworthy to test for his next Belt. He’d been at the peak for months, his constant fighting against powerful opponents pushing him like nothing else had. He was ready to advance, but the red Torii gate did not appear to welcome him in.
Irusaru stumbled again, his foot snagging on a burning branch, and this time he did fall, sprawling out flat on his stomach.
A low, rumbling growl reverberated from his surroundings, and as the weary old man pushed himself upright, he found that he’d been surrounded. Not that it was a surprise. He was too tired to keep his Spirit Sense active, and he’d been walking with his eyes down. It was no wonder that six creatures — flaming lions made of pure Fire Qi — had managed to sneak up on him.
The air was suddenly stifling as the creatures moved in. They towered over his small frame, their heads five-and-a-half feet off the ground. He had shrunk a bit more, now barely at four-and-a-half, his body hunched and withered. His once magnificent white beard was bedraggled and dirty, matted with blood and sand. His eyes had sunken even more into their sockets, and his skin had turned dry and leathery.
All in all, he looked like the pathetic wreck that he was. He couldn’t understand why things kept attacking him. He gritted his teeth, using a bit of his remaining Qi to open his senses and feel at the creatures surrounding him. They were all at peak Purple. He was outnumbered and outmatched.
Irusaru’s shoulders slumped, and his eyes closed as the creatures lunged. Perhaps this was for the best, a fitting end to the hell that had been his life over the last year or so.
However, as the first of the lions tried to bite down on his head, Irusaru’s body moved on its own, dodging the attack. He screamed, his fist flashing up and a burst of golden Qi blasting from his fist in a condensed cone. It slammed into the underside of the lion’s chin, ripping through its head and spearing out the top.
He screamed again as burning hot claws raked at his back, and he spun, his foot flashing out in an arc of golden light. In the same motion, he tore the forged blade through the lion’s head, finally destabilizing the construct enough for it to shatter into tiny motes of red light. His leg connected with the side of the second lion’s head, tossing it to one side.
Another lance of pain flashed from his shoulder, and Irusaru felt hot blood pouring from another searing wound. He spun again, his fist extending and lines of golden light flashing between him and the construct as he used his Projected Qi technique. He staggered as his Core flexed, sputtering once again.
The lack of power in his Core was beginning to shut his body down. He fell, and two of the lions pounced, but somehow, Irusaru found the will to keep fighting. One of the lions sunk its teeth into his right arm. He punched it in the face with his left, ejecting a burst of cloudy Qi that rocked the side of the construct’s head.
It roared, releasing him, only for Irusaru to be struck from the side, going down hard and slamming his head into the stony earth. Stars danced before his eyes as blood leaked from his temple. The lion pounced on him, and Irusaru flipped onto his back, both legs shooting up with the power of his Movement technique.
They impacted with all the force of a landslide, ripping straight into the lion’s body and causing the creature to detonate. Irusaru didn’t even have the strength to scream as he was engulfed in Fire Qi, his hair, beard, and eyebrows — no longer protected by his aura — burning away in a flash.
As the fire vanished, Irusaru was forced to spring to his feet as another lion came pouncing through the flames. He let out a wheeze, reaching for the Essence in the air and injecting his own. The area to his left detonated as he lost control of the Terrain technique, but luckily for him, one of the lions happened to leap into that exact area.
It seemed that while their power was on par with that of a peak Purple, their defenses were severely lacking. His breathing was ragged as he whirled to face another of the creatures then jerked back as it swiped at him. A line of blood ran across his forehead as the attack, intended to shear the top half of his head off, left only a shallow cut.
Blood began leaking down into Irusaru’s eyes as he panted for breath, but when another lion came for him, he struck again. His limbs felt as though they were made of lead, and every time he reached into his empty Core for more, he could feel himself fading. There wasn’t much left f
or him to give, but as the fourth lion construct fell, followed soon after by the fifth, Irusaru knew that he could win.
He would not fall here. Not after coming this far. Not before getting his revenge.
With a guttural scream, he threw himself at the last remaining lion, which in turn tore into his exposed legs. Irusaru’s elbow came down on the top of the construct’s head, and with a burst of Qi, he blew a hole through to the ground below. He fell to the ground in a bloody heap as the lion disappeared, chest heaving and trying to regain his cycling rhythm.
There wasn’t a single drop of energy left in his Core. He had neither Essence nor Qi, and when he tried to pull the Power Essence generated by their fight into himself, he found that he simply did not have the strength.
“Well, isn’t this an interesting outcome?”
Irusaru craned his neck to the side and through blurry vision, saw a shadowy figure approaching. His voice was smooth and practiced, as though having been polished to a perfect sheen over decades.
“I fully expected you to die against those constructs, and yet somehow, you managed to make it through alive.”
Irusaru found that he didn’t have the strength to speak as the figure crouched next to him. He couldn’t make out any of the man’s features, but one thing did stand out in stark contrast: the man’s Belt. It was a perfect, solid black that seemed to suck in all surrounding light.
“You fight with a ferocity not often seen in your kind,” the man continued, leaning in a bit closer. “Tell me, human, would you like to meet my master? You do not need to speak. All you must do is nod.”
Irusaru had had his eyes opened in a big way after leaving the Crater and had learned much about the Belt colors following Red. Therefore, he knew that if this person’s Belt was Black, he was one of the most powerful Martial Artists on the continent, perhaps even the whole world.
He could refuse and stay here to die, but his actions showed him that he was not yet through. He wanted to go on. Slowly, painfully, Irusaru raised his chin then lowered it.
He caught a gleam of white teeth, perhaps a bit too large and sharp, against the shadowy black of the dark figure.
“Excellent choice. It is one that you will not regret making.”
That was the last thing Irusaru heard before the world around him faded to black.
***
Azure stood with arms crossed, feet spread wide, and a small frown on his face as he observed the battle raging below. More than anything, he wanted to intervene, to fly down and whisper some advice in the ears of those who would listen. Perhaps he could turn the tide of battle as Furea’s forces pushed Herald Duncan’s new clan deeper and deeper into the Windblight.
The woman standing next to him — his babysitter — was there for one reason; to make sure he didn’t intervene.
Crimson watched the battle with an air of disdainful disinterest, which was a sentiment shared by many of the others. They viewed the proceedings down below as battles between ants. The only reason she was there was because she’d been ordered to. He had interfered one too many times, and someone had taken notice.
“You know, we could always leave and come back in a century or two,” Crimson finally said. “Things will have settled by then. Plus, we wouldn’t have to stand around here watching this pathetic display.”
“Your compassion and caring truly know no bounds,” Azure said as Duncan’s forces broke and ran.
This was the fourth time they’d been pushed back already, surrendering yet another city to Furea’s forces. It wasn’t anything too serious just yet, as none of the truly high-ranking Martial Artists had become involved, but that would be happening soon.
“The Windblight is falling fast,” Crimson said as they watched Duncan’s forces’ scattered retreat. “Another couple of weeks, and it’ll be completely under the control of the Ancient Beast.”
“No,” Azure said, rubbing his chin. “He might be powerful, but there’s only so far he can stretch himself before he’s forced to halt.”
“Why would he do that?” Crimson asked. “Someone of his power should easily be able to blanket the entire continent. Have you finally started to go senile in your old age?” she asked, her lips pulling up into a smirk.
“Last I checked, you were more than fifty years my senior,” Azure commented, causing the smirk to die on her lips. “No. What I meant to say was that Furea, like all creatures who’ve reached that level of power, is bound even more strictly by their Ideals. His Ideal, in particular, is going to force him to stop advancing and sooner rather than later.”
“So why are you worried?” Crimson asked with an eye roll. “He stops before the edge of the Windblight, and life goes on. Problem solved.”
“Not exactly,” Azure said. “His Ideal is tricky. He has to meet certain conditions before he’s allowed to exert himself to the extent it would take to conquer this continent. What you’re seeing now, this war, is just an outpouring of his aura. He’ll hit a wall soon, and then, he’ll try and meet the conditions of his Ideal.”
“So, are they all doomed, or not?” Crimson asked.
Azure opened his mouth to reply, but she looked away, waving a dismissive hand.
“You know what, I decided I don’t care. Whatever happens to the weaklings happens. It might be slightly more interesting to watch the Ancient Cavern Beast roll over the entire area.”
Azure resisted the urge to sigh, going back instead to watching the Windblight and the Burning Hills, where the Bringer of Fire lay in the Dreadpit. His power was overflowing, spilling into the Windblight and beginning to cause a shift in the landscape.
It seemed the creature had already begun its work.
Azure’s eyes flickered momentarily to the Waterwood, where their best hopes for putting the Bringer of Fire back to sleep currently resided. Interference was no longer allowed. All he could do was silently hope that what he’d done so far would be enough.
Unless all of the Scions on the continent were wiped out, interference was strictly forbidden.
1
Roy let out a sigh of relief as he stepped through the Red Torii gate and into the area where his next test would be taking place. The raging energy in his Core stilled, and the injuries his body had begun to accrue as the overflow threatened to kill him were immediately healed. It was a strange sensation, going from near death to perfect health in the blink of an eye, but Roy certainly wasn’t about to complain about that.
After rejoining with his original Core, the power had been too much for him to contain. Geon had already been so packed with Qi and Chakra that adding his old power to the new had nearly torn him apart. Thankfully, Aika had been there to help, guiding him through the gate where the destructive energy had been calmed.
“You almost killed us again,” Geon said sourly. “I guess some things never change.”
Roy concentrated inward, curious about how his Core would look now that all of that corrupted Qi had flowed into him. Surprisingly, the golden Power Qi had only turned a slightly deeper gold, and the dark, crimson corruption was almost nonexistent. At the very center of the water-like Qi stood a small sphere of an even denser energy, the syrup-like Chakra that he’d managed to forge in preparation for his advancement to Red.
“You don’t seem to have expanded at all,” Roy noted after taking his Core in.
He’d expected some visible change to the golden Core, especially after rejoining with the power that had been taken from him as a child, but Geon was exactly the same size as he had been before. Yes, the Core had doubled in size and depth, holding such vast reserves that he no longer knew his limits, but he’d expected it to grow larger after entering the test.
“That’s because you’re still a Purple-Belt, idiot,” Geon replied. “You’re the one in charge of my growth, not me. If I’m still the same size, that’s on you, pal.”
Roy ignored the Core’s usual insulting tone and began looking around at the world he’d stepped into. Each of the tests had been uniq
ue, so he had to wonder what the Red-Belt test would look like. After all, he was moving from Qi to a higher form of energy. His body would be transformed and the ability to safely use Chakra would come along with it.
Additionally, he’d finally be able to branch off the main Path of Power and forge his own, whatever that might be. The test for this Belt would have to be monstrously difficult.
“Well…that’s different,” Geon commented, finally getting a sense of the area as Roy took it in.
“You can say that again,” Roy whistled.
“I guess I can, just for your tiny brain,” Geon said, his voice echoing louder and more exaggerated in Roy’s mind. “Well…that’s different.”
Roy tuned the Dungeon Core out, not allowing his attitude to ruin the magnificence of the world he’d stepped into. He stood on a small stone platform that vanished just a couple of feet away, leaving only empty darkness floating beneath. However, there was another stone platform, looking more like a shattered piece of stone that had drifted away from the one he was standing on, floating just a couple of feet to his left and perhaps six inches higher.
All around, Roy saw what appeared to be the shattered remains of a massive stage. Pieces floated in the blackness of empty space until they came up against a wall of rainbow-colored light surrounding the entire testing area. Roy turned, seeing that the shattered stage continued behind him as well.
It appeared that the Torii gate was sitting right in the center of the stage, which, now that he could take it all in, appeared to be trapped inside a gigantic globe. The highest pieces were some fifty feet above him, and the lowest were around the same distance below where he now stood.
Additionally, some of the pieces weren’t just blank stone. Some had grass and trees, and others had running streams flowing off the edges and cascading down to similar pieces below. Others had boulders and patches of flowers. The fact that they were constantly moving and shifting gave the entire area an extremely surreal and otherworldly feeling.
