The small group of short-statured men freeze. Darkness wafts from Tess’s frame, tendrils of pure black snaking from her eyes and to the ground. A small scuffle breaks out, none of the small group willing to face the picture of wrath in front of them. Then a glint catches Tess’ eye. High above the mountain, a small shard of flickering light appears. Tess sinks into the shadows with a dark flash, appearing high up the slope.
Peering at the floating crystal, she reads the message. Rhea’s mental letter fails to soothe her irritation, instead, stoking it further.
“TEACH YOU FUCK! I’M GOING TO STAB YOU! Also, relocate this shitty crystal. Two hundred thirty metres down. If you’re gonna fuck us over, at least do it properly, you FUCKING FUCK!”
Tess rages some more, obviously taking the forced separation hard. Five minutes later, every single rock in a large radius around her position is booted off the mountain and she’s breathing roughly. The slowly rotating crystal disappeared when she wasn’t looking, so Tess moves back to her previous position.
Not waiting for the small group of people to start talking about her legs again, she fixes them with a stare and starts her interrogation.
⁂
“Mistress! Big ones! Big ones are trampling our traps, it’s horrible. All that good steel, they’re just waltzing right over it. Mistress, what do we do?”
Tess is tired, not physically or mentally, just extremely tired of all things short and stocky. The questions and comments never stop. The annoying yammering never stops. The stares never stop. Even the ones she recognises as female don’t stop looking at her legs, an odd sort of frown on their faces instead of the star-struck admiration displayed by the men. And even the revelation of qi and all of its wondrous potential and contrast does little to distract the crowd.
“And it’s honestly a shame,” she thinks. The environment is quite pretty. The architecture is a bit on the short side, but rather stylish. Carved into a sheer cliff face, each house, walkway, and stair are won from the rock by pure physical labour. The village she has appeared at – and now is partially responsible for – contains two thousand people. A mix of young and old, every single one of them barely comes to her navel.
The clothes these villagers wear are crude, rough spun, and leather. The mugs, cutlery, and furniture they use is either rough wood or carved rock. The single skill that is well developed by the local populous all concern the metal items. Metal is everywhere. Half of the tools, items, and weapons are made from some advanced alloy or tempered steel. The centre of the village is made up of massive blast furnaces, the back of the village entering into a grand minework, combined with a fungus farm. Some streets are partially made from metal. Places where she would expect wood, stone, or baked clay – like roof tiles, door frames, and furniture – contain an amount of metal that seems too high to be normal.
She has spent her time wandering the place, evading the growing gaggle of admirers that follows her wherever she goes. She has already explored the entire town and has been putting some clues together. The single stack of books enshrined in the central monument of the central plaza is a rather good hint. The books are obviously dungeon-won, and from what Tess has seen of them, cover a wide variety of metallurgic topics. All the non-metal related crafts are relegated to small huts on the village’s edge, either near the gaping cave-like opening or at the areas where new houses are carved from solid rock.
And now these people have started calling her mistress and won’t stop going on about some horde of large beasts. Tess is having trouble believing that. She saw some of the steel traps being worked on in the many, many smithies and foundries. Those things can chop a mortal in half, no problem. Even a top-tier, upper-qi condenser heartcore might suffer serious injuries were they to land inside one of the teethed traps.
Sighing in her heart, Tess realises that she might as well make herself comfortable here. Looking at the crystal now hovering over the village’s central plaza, just under the rough rock ceiling, she receives a message from Database. The sheer fact that Database is still accessible is enough of a hint for Tess to understand that Teach going crazy is some stupid ruse. At least she now knows that she must reach the foundation realm before she can use Database’s teleportation function. Even then, the point cost is astronomical, and she has enough for just a single trip.
Shaking off her wishful thoughts, she lands in front of one of the panicking messengers running around. “What is it?”
“Beasts, Mistress! Bigger than any we’ve seen in ages. They came in from the south pass and are running straight here, Mistress.”
“Just that way then?” she asks. The village is shaped like half a circle, the spherical ceiling allowing light to enter at the village’s most recessed streets.
“South’s over there, Mistress! But please don’t go. The horror of having your beautiful legs smashed underfoot by the stampeding hord-”
Unwilling to hear the end of that sentence, Tess speeds off. Even though the village is facing the sun, and despite the rather high ceiling, the town’s streets are still covered in shadows even at midday. Tess uses the shadows liberally, avoiding the panicking inhabitants and searching groups of admirers. She shifts her fluid cultivation core over her entire body, using her power base as a black cloak while speeding through the narrow streets.
Gathering speed, Tess launches out of the village, shooting away from the mountain with speed. Looking around, she sees the valley stretch beneath her. The oval cave behind her seems dark and ominous all of a sudden. Far below her, she sees a river snaking its way through the valley. To her right, she sees the mountain-rimmed valley widening into grasslands and forests. To her left, she sees a dust cloud descending from the narrow pass.
Tess pools some of her power into her eyes and peers at the far away shapes. She immediately recognises the seemingly random forms of mana mutants. It takes her some more studying before she classifies the threat correctly. She first thought that the small green plants were shrubs. It took her some more looking around before recognising them as trees. “Enforcer class mutants, why…?”
Then Tess feels it. The shift from Tree’s qi-rich environment to her current one felt off, something she first attributed to her forced teleportation. Only now does she feel the slight film of qi that’s present here and there. Contracting her fluid core into her head allows her to sharpen her senses. Still falling through the air, black streaks of power trailing behind her, Tess realises why Teach did what he did.
Tess takes a deep breath, the immature anger and irritation in her gut hardening to something she can work with. Sharpening her focus, she keeps her sight trained on the horde of ten-metre-large beasts storming to the brightest qi signature around, namely the qi crystal hanging above the village. The ground rushes up to her, but she has long since aimed for a shadowy crack between two rocks. She plunges into the impossible space between light and dark. She travels a hundred metres in a fraction of a second, shooting into the air from beneath a fallen tree.
Tess also knows what to do now. The amount of qi in the air is extremely faint, but she senses a lot more power making its way down from up high. The slight hint of pain and blood she senses from the diffuse power raining down is also enough for her to understand where the qi comes from. The entire episode with Teach getting his guts blown out moments after he stepped into the foundation realm seemed like an unimportant footnote. The dragon attack, short-lived exploration of the other continent, the mana dungeon, and other happenings seemed much more important back then.
Jumping through the air with large bounds, Tess pulls a dagger from her ring. She flicks the blade forwards, replacing it with a shining rapier moments later. The small dagger - gifted by Teach ages ago - flies for kilometres before it lands in front of the stampeding horde. Tess inhales deeply and falls into another shadow.
She snatches the small dagger immediately after emerging from its proportionally massive shadow, throwing it with one hand while expertly stabbing a mutant in the he
art with her rapier. She disappears again in a dark flash, her still meagre qi supply dwindling rather fast as she expertly culls the massive beasts.
She restarted her cultivation base – along with Ket – not too long ago. She might be displaying an extreme amount of control and utility for her level, but this does not diminish the fact that she is still merely a qi condenser. The experience she gained with her previous cultivation bases allows her to fight many times above her weight class by applying the little bit of power she has in the most optimal way possible. The fact that she incorporated the very nature of the odd power flickering through her veins multiplies her power once more.
Still, only a third of the stampeding monsters are killed when she drops to the ground panting while running on qi fumes. She has a rather ugly scowl on her face when she realises that she will need to test one of Ket’s more irritating theories. Shoving her entire power base inside her head not only allows her to move with precision, but it also allows her a limited form of braincore processing functionality. One of these temporary processes is now telling her that the horde will, in fact, manage to reach the village before she can take them all out. It also informs her that the damage will be substantial and that even a single unchecked enforcer mutant – thanks to the tightly packed nature of the village – will be able to kill hundreds in seconds.
Refusing to think of Bord, she guides the sluggish blob of energetic tar that is her core towards her heart. The world around her loses its glimmer, the extra shine and details granted by her fading mental enhancements disappearing. Instead, the fallen beasts around her start looking extremely tasty. A single thought yells in protest at the time she will waste by eating right now, but Tess ignores it. Somehow, she knows that she will make it.
Wiping the drool from her face, Tess carves herself a nice fat steak of short fur covered spider-legged fish. She makes a neat little pile from the many pieces of crushed tree surrounding her. She then lights it with the last smidgen of qi she has left, turning the wood into coal with a bright flash. She then sears the steak in the glowing heat before devouring the thing in seconds. The taste of raw meat surrounded by bloody char is nearly orgasmic. She hurries over to a long-necked bug, breaking off a single leg. Throwing the thing on the coals, she starts carving a true smorgasbord of meat for herself.
Sometime later, she seems to wake from a daze. Her stomach is full while her heart pumps the little qi it gathers right back into her bloodstream. Surrounded by partially dismantled carcasses, Tess licks her fingers while feeling like she forgot something. She nearly panics while spotting the horde of mutants. They are halfway between her and the village, mere minutes away from grinding all in the cave to powder. The man-made cave starts a couple dozen metres in the air, a distance that the large mutants can easily jump.
Burping loudly, she seems of two minds. On the one hand, she feels like she should start working hard right now. Reaching the foundation realm will require a lot of work and having an entire village at her beck and call will allow her to advance much quicker. Saving those people – and the qi-generating potential they represent – should be her number one priority. On the other hand, that large chunk of meat sizzling on the diminished coals does smell pretty nice.
Sighing through grease stained lips, Tess grabs the large steak, takes a bite, and throws her black dagger. Before, she would have spent a few seconds to calculate the optimum angle. Even in her skincore days, Tess preferred double checking important stuff with hard reasoning and science. Things are different now that her core is inside her heart, though. The black knife – the shadow of a dagger that Teach pumped a rather ungodly amount of energy in as an experiment – screams through the air. It flies straight, not tumbling once as it catches up with the beast horde.
The small black thing comes down in the middle of the mutants, hitting a fifteen-metre long squid cow between the eyes. It bounces forward, its vertical momentum transferred into horizontal speed by the way it hit the beast’s bone forehead. Now spinning wildly, it cuts through a tendon here, stabbing a nerve there, before landing in front of the stampeding horde. Tess appears in front of the mutants, still munching on a slab of meat, watching through lidded eyes as three-quarters of the horde stumbles and falls to the ground.
What follows is a rather confusing display. Tess is now in full view of the village, and many stocky figures are peering over the fenced-off cliff at the spectacle below. People had been running around in a blind panic when their usually impenetrable defensive net of metal traps got trampled into the dirt. The unusual excitement of seeing a stranger had them all pumped up, the messages of doom the scouts brought shortly after only whipping the population into a further frenzy. The fact that a sizable portion of people started staring at the crystal hanging in the middle of the ceiling, an absent and slack-jawed expression on their face, made the few remaining calm villagers panic.
And now the population is watching with rapt attention as a pair of shapely legs attached to a girl systematically beats up and eats the threat that would have surely destroyed their entire community.
CHAPTER SIX
Legs 2
“Yes, my lovely le-” The stocky man stops speaking the moment he feels an object fly past his face. The small trickle of blood running down his cheek combined with the loud crash he hears behind him is enough for the man to shut up.
“No more of that now, scram!” The short man stands up and scrambles, running away at top speed. His rapidly disappearing back is followed by a deep and mournful sigh. Like a queen of darkness, cold and unapproachable by mortal men, Tess sits upon a throne. She stares down at the world with weary eyes, trickles of darkness wafting across cheeks like ephemeral tears.
“Why?” A single syllable escapes from her lips. “Why did all of these short fuckers become heartcores? Dungeons below and Flight above, why have you abandoned me?”
“I’m not a heartcore,” replies the only other living being near.
“You don’t count,” is Tess’ cold reply.
“I think I count,” the small dwarf mumbles softly, caressing the book in her stubby hands with fervour.
Tess throws a disgusted glance at the woman and nearly spits on the ground. Her constant attendant is one of the few small people that didn’t cultivate a heartcore. All the normal dwarves saw her fight with the mass of qi-contaminated enforcer mutants a couple days ago. They saw her struggle at first until she put all of her cultivation base into her heart. The gruesome display of violence while she constantly ate must have unlocked some form of racial instincts in the peanut gallery. The entire crowd was chomping at the bit when she sauntered back to the stone village, a large chunk of meat in her hand.
They had asked her how she had become so strong. “Just stuff the power in your heart, you know,” was what she had answered. Exhausted from the intense fight and the needed changes in cultivation form, she had fallen into the first bed she had found. Nearly every single inhabitant had been a heartcore when she woke up.
This means that Tess, who dislikes the near moronic, instinctual dumb brutes at the best of times, is now surrounded by two thousand heartcore cultivators. The few outlying cases had been weird, to begin with, and the fact that they now had even less in common with the average citizen had only driven them further into their peculiarities. The old woman that was constantly at Tess’ side is a great example of this phenomenon.
“Nice weather, no?” asks Tess once again.
The old woman clutches the pristine tome tighter to her chest. “Weather is of no consequence, except that rain can be a great source of quenching water for the hardest of alloys. And moisture is a factor when determining the exact temperature of a forge, but that’s influenced by humidity, not the weather, per se. If times are truly dire, one can forge in the rain, but make sure to keep the increased cooling rates in mind. Otherwise, the…”
Tess lets the rambling old bint talk, ignoring the babbling madwoman. The wrinkled dwarf is the current keeper of the books.
Her mental state was already quite warped due to her hermit-like lifestyle. The recent upheavals did little to improve her tenuous sanity. It is her duty to keep the books safe. Every single child in the village can recite the things backwards and forwards from the moment they can talk, so Tess does not see why the source of information should be so revered. A lifelong obsession with the bloody objects was not to be interrupted by a qi-apocalypse, it seemed. So now Tess is stuck with a semi-official advisor who literally can’t talk about anything else than forging, crafting, grinding, polishing, and quenching metal.
She was already quite tired to begin with – having to continually kill cultivating mana mutants to keep everyone around from turning into paste will do that to anyone – but the insistent metallurgic nattering is only making her headache worse.
“I’m going out on patrol. Bye.”
“But you may never leave the forge unattended when the coals are-”
Sick of the same routine, Tess stands up and jumps into the shadow behind her throne. She hangs there for a second, feeling the reassuring cool tingle of power, her cultivation covering her in the shape of a large cloak. She hangs in the shadow for a few seconds before the sameness gets to her, and she starts hankering for change.
Jumping from beneath a bench outside the throne chamber, she makes her way through the bustling village. Tess finds it odd that merely recognising that she desires contrast is enough for her to see it everywhere. In retrospect, she can apply that philosophy of change to her entire life, finding clear indicators of her path everywhere. Her job before Lola and Teach kidnapped her was made out of extremes, she silently snuck through a place that was designed around loud and wild combat. She let the world see a version of her that was unlike her true self, always smiling in order to appease.
She is still thinking about the edge between differences when she walks into the place where she has been spending a lot of time, the central kitchen. Boisterous greetings are shouted at her as she enters the heavenly smelling place, the aroma of sizzling meat combining with frying mushrooms and wild herbs. “I think I might have a bit of room left. Does anyone have any new dishes for me to try?”
The Dao of Magic: Book IV Page 5
