The Dao of Magic: Book IV

by Andries Louws

  “Just swirl some qi through that, and…” I focus on healing my own teeth for a bit, activating my healing process, and other non-critical quality of life processes once more. I feel my shirt slowly repairing and cleaning itself as I work on healing my teeth and my fractured facial bones. “…you should be fine.”

  I look her in the eyes. I immediately lose it. Her white hair is matted with blood, her eyes are darkly ringed, and her face is still swelling. I must have done more damage than I thought. The sheer fact that it isn’t healed yet is proof that I actually hit her really hard. I needed to get her out of that tree, though. Digging through the ice and taking all those hyper dense items into Tree took a lot out of me. I’m still feeling like shit, to be honest. All of that foreign matter inside my core makes me feel physically ill.

  “What was the deciding factor, I wonder,” Rhea whispers softly. “Did you run out of stupid hobbies to mess around with, did Lola put you up to this, or was it this?” I fight to keep control over my body as she grasps a certain private place.

  “That could very well be seen as sexual harr-”

  “Shut the fuck up and fuck me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I start pulling the foreign items from my core at the same time as I start stripping our clothes. I try to make a wall around us, but the amount of stuff I had to pull inside only amounts to a hobble a few metres high. I managed to squeeze myself through the ice the majority of the time, only needed to loosen and steal the most obstinate of objects. I start pulling on my qi, forming the beginnings of a dual circulation pattern just as Rhea finishes pulling off her underwear.

  ⁂

  “Fuck me,” I whisper.

  “I did,” is her reply.

  And so she did. “You are one thirsty dragon, though. Have you ever heard of the term ‘shotgun orgasm?’”

  “No, enlighten me.”

  “You did just now. Multiple times. Also, why was your body so empty of qi? There was barely enough to keep you going in here.” Stroking her curves, I admire her leanness. Not a single milligram of useless fat or stagnant qi inside her body.

  “That shitty tentacle tree had me trapped in a highspeed qi washer for a month. All useless and needless matter and energy did not survive.”

  “So the constant stream of qi running through your body stripped away all the useless stuff?”

  “Something like that, I guess.”

  I mull this over a bit. There used to be all kinds of physical tempering methods. From caves where iron sandblasted you in the face constantly to qi concentration towers that put your cultivation base under pressure the higher you climbed. There is not a single case of mention I can recall concerning being submerged in a constant stream of power running through your body, though.

  “It wasn’t all bad, though. I spent a couple of decades reliving every death I saw happening. And those were the very first deaths of people I cared about in my entire life so that was rather traumatic. Also, I could do nothing as something I inadvertently created stripped my very own family and friends of their will, using them as mechanical and robotic slaves. Also, I had to stare at my dead uncle all the time. And I couldn’t move a single hair on my body, no matter how much my nose itched.”

  The silence hangs thick as we lay there on the ice, naked and covered in all kinds of fluids. “Not all bad?”

  “I learned a lot. That’s about it.”

  “What did you learn?”

  “Aha, wouldn’t you like to know?” And Rhea closes her eyes, resting her head on my chest.

  “Yeah, I hate to interrupt your smug snoozing session, but what are we going to do about the fact that your kin are still enslaved and are all staring at us. They have been staring at us the entire time, you know.”

  “I’m so glad you asked,” is her reply. Oh shit, Rhea is back. Why did I want her back so badly again? I can handle a bit of physical pain, sure, and that beating was one I deserved in hindsight. There were other ways to get her outside of that pillar of light, I now realize. But the fact that all those dragons had suddenly become involuntary contortionist bricks in that wall had me slightly panicking. I needed to prevent those guys from breaking their necks en-masse, and kicking Rhea out of that glowing tree trunk seemed the most expedient option. So the beating I can handle. The way she is sadistically looking at me currently, though? That promises a whole different type of pain.

  CHAPTER THIRTY -FOUR

  Reciprocation 1

  “Sage Ket.” The man bows low, his swords and other assorted useless looking weapons clattering loudly against the expensive looking armour he is wearing. “Our noble young master is most thankful for the assistance provided by your esteemed self. Please accept this small token of our gratitude.”

  Ket wants to scream. He is so sick and tired of these stupid games that he feels like killing himself. A sword through the gut is undoubtedly more preferable than watching these idiots prance around, pretending to be all clever and shit, right? This latest ploy is so transparent that he nearly suspects this all to be a big play to fool him. Then he sees the ornately dressed house slaves being led in, and Ket knows that these fools are completely serious.

  Ket waves his left hand, indicating neutral agreement. He makes sure to keep his right hand entirely still, and that not a single finger of either hand touches anything. All of these randomly made up traditions and formalities had been fun to figure out at first; now it is just tiring.

  He’d cracked the code a week after he landed here. All he had to do after that moment was observe and correlate. Ket usually would have loved such a complex puzzle to figure out. Out of all the puzzles he has been presented with so far, this one is the most intricate and has the most facets. Learning to navigate through this cursed town’s high society has been a true challenge to the black-haired youth.

  And it has been the least rewarding task he has ever undertaken. Nothing seems useful; every single discovery he makes just underlines how pretentious this entire society truly is. Which normally functioning society needs over a thousand possible permutations of saying yes? Which productive people need twenty years of extensive education before they stop cursing their grandparents with each involuntary movement?

  Ket only accesses the horrible mess of a data structure when he absolutely needs to nowadays. He had made the mistake of wanting to be too proper in the early days, something that made the nobles only more wary of him. In hindsight, that also makes sense. The upper tier of society uses those small mistakes and faux pars as currency. And seeing that the previous super-powerful goldmine of valuable rumours and gossip suddenly has dried up into a someone that is merely supremely powerful might have been alarming. Instead of focussing on all the social mistakes he had made, they could only talk about how he had absolutely slaughtered this or that massive monster.

  So Ket has decided to do as little as possible. Instead of playing their game, he just sits on his throne in the central building. Whenever people come, he exactly and precisely shows them the minimum courtesies and not a single gesture or drop of wine more. He has started ignoring even the blatant movements of a request and has been enjoying watching as it drives the fops mad.

  “Please, accept this token of our humble, most thankful and given out of gratitude, freely.”

  Sighing internally at the blatant self-praise under the guise of humbleness, Ket waves at one of the simply dressed servants at his side. The slender woman keeps her eyes downcast as she moves over to the man performing a rather complex and uncomfortable looking bow. The woman gently picks up the ornate sackcloth from the bejewelled tray and retreats to her previous place, walking backwards.

  Ket would be worried that the girl could trip, but as she is one of the most powerful braincores in the entire village, he doesn’t think that likely at all. “They were but a trifle, no need to worry yourselves about that small token.” Ket smiles as he downplays his own actions. Their young master, a spoiled little shit of a teenager, had injured himself in a sparring match, an
d none of the town’s terrible healers had managed to fix the injury. Ket had sent one of his servants over with one of Valerius and Selis’ earlier prototype general healing pills. The amount of gems that Ket senses to be in the small pouch is a clear indication the pellet has worked.

  The man opposite Ket stands back up, gently brushing this icon and gliding a finger across that epaulette in more complex signals. Ket doesn’t bother reading them, though, and simply nods while smiling. “Would you join us for dinner?”

  “Most gracious, but I fear that my services are needed elsewhere. Thank you for your hospitality, sage Ket.” The entire group bows on command, every single individual of the group bending over in a different angle and manner. Observing this simple ritual closely will allow a person to basically figure out the role of every single individual of the small entourage, but Ket decides that it’s not worth the effort.

  The small group straightens themselves after a few seconds, every person rising at their own designated times, and retreats. The moment the door slams shut is the moment the atmosphere in the room changes drastically. “FUCK! Why are these people so immensely annoying? I just want to punch every single one of them in the fucking face! I never curse, but somehow I feel like the human king is pretty cool right about now.” Ket stands up from his ornate throne – the blasted thing still as uncomfortable as ever – and stretched his aching limbs.

  “You did great, sage Ket.” Smiling at his reaction, the woman still holding the pouch tosses it to the side.

  “Shut up, Shadi. I’ll send you out to meet them alone next time.” Ket walks over to the edge of the room, looking out of one of the many small windows he has installed in his otherwise completely windowless chambers. “Are they on schedule, at least?”

  One of the simple dressed guards standing next to the door replies. “The BoneCarver clan tried to pull some stuff, but we let them sabotage one of the dummy works while speeding up the last critical house.”

  “Great. Shall we, then?” Ket is rubbing his hands while walking back to his chair.

  “Are…” Shadi stops talking as every single person in the room except Ket throws warning glances at her.

  “Let her talk, you guys.” Ket rolls his eyes as he tries waving the heavy mood away.

  “Are you really leaving, Ket?” Her voice sounds rather small, and despite the earlier looks, all the people present start looking at Ket with similar begging gazes.

  “Just for a little while.” Concentrating on moving his cultivation base in the proper patterns, he seats himself on his chair again, not noticing the extremely complicated looks everyone in the room is sporting. “I’m about ready, I think. Could you please start?”

  Every single person in the room smiles, their faces lighting up like blossoming flowers. Gone are the sullen frowns as they receive tasks to perform. Ket forbids his face from showing anything, but he is not happy about any of the worshipful gazes being cast his way. Every single person in the room bows, waves, or does another display of greeting or thanks before leaving. None of them walk through the front door, all of them taking the many secret entrances that are now present in his quarters.

  “I… I will also go.” Shadi bows low, hanging forwards a little bit too long, showing off a little too much of her ample bosom. “See you soon.”

  Ket nods impassively at her as she retreats. The moment he is alone, he activates several formations, encasing his throne room in several layers of protective shielding. “Ah man, Teach, you bastard. You’re still a dick for pulling that move, but I think I understand now…”

  Ket slouches in his chair, instantly transforming from an aloof figure, not concerned with mortal affairs, to an exhausted young man. Ket has been having a very tiring couple of weeks. It’s been around two months since Teach teleported everyone around the globe, and Ket has sort of started to understand why he might have done so. Being involved with the day-to-day affairs of a large group of people is extremely tiring.

  During the day, the beleaguered full braincore cultivator has been playing the high society social game. He has learned a lot, especially when it concerns topics like what battles to pick, but it has taken him an immense amount of effort to get here. The discovery that he can choose his own way of dealing with social situations, as opposed to following all the rules, has been rather enlightening. Playing without knowing the rules is nearly impossible, and it is only when you have a certain mastery of those rules that you can choose not to follow them.

  During the night, he has been transforming this entire town into a cultivation resource. His innate affinity with metal has not done him a lot of good here outside of combat. Being able to influence metals with his mind is a mere party trick when it comes to politics, so Ket has been trying to affect different things than metal. And he thinks he might have succeeded. Somehow or another, he slowly but surely has managed to impose the ease of pushing and pulling that comes with all metallic objects on other concepts as well.

  This night, he plans on putting this to the test. The last pieces of the complex puzzle he has been creating in the background are being put into place. The last house will be modified quickly, the construction happening out in the open for the first time. Up until now, all the changes to the town’s structures have happened hidden away from the major houses. Each changed shack and restored street had to happen on the down-low. It has worked pretty well so far, none of the parties in the upper crust of society even hinting that they’ve caught on. That will change this evening, but Ket will be far away at that point.

  The steady trickle of qi slowly enters the biggest room in the quarters assigned to him. Brick after brick, wooden beam after wooden beam, the complex formation he has been orchestrating takes shape. In the outskirts of town, hidden by the waning light of the setting sun, the last pieces of his city-spanning formation are being put into place.

  Then one of his processes informs him that something is not right. Just when he was starting to contemplate the true meaning of pulling and pushing on things, he notices a small crowd forming in front of the central government building he is stationed in. By the looks of it, there are soldiers and guards from all houses mixed in the growing crowd. Ket frowns deeply as he stands up, observing the gathering mob through his spiritual sense. His frown deepens when he starts to analyse the people that are gathering.

  “Really, now?” For some reason or another, Ket has found that he has been talking to himself more. He is unsure where this habit has come from, but he is too busy to really bother analysing the change in personality closely. The cause for most of his worries is gathering in front of his abode, for some reason. All of the most influential and irritating houses are gathering in a rather rare display of solidarity. At first, Ket thinks that it’s nothing special. Then he sees the house heads softly conversing off to the side, and his worries go through the roof. Nothing good has come from those people so far, and Ket doesn’t think that a gathering of those most troublesome personalities will make his life any easier.

  Ket decides to ignore the group for now and sits back in his chair. He lets his cultivation base run across his brain in a near sensual caress. Instead of the liquid he had before, he had managed to compress the rather large amount of fluid qi into a single grain of sand a while back. Instead of growing that grain of sand, he decided to split it up into even finer pieces. Now he has a slowly growing cloud of dust running through his brain, enhancing his conscious and subconscious thinking capabilities.

  He still follows each curve of his grey matter with care, making sure to evenly stimulate his brain unless he wants to stimulate a certain part of his body. Rushing the solid qi through the back of his brain, for example, allows him supernatural eyesight and extreme visual analysis. Even going over images he has already seen, either picking at details or searching for something, goes a lot faster when he stimulates the back of his mind. He has been forming two small swirls of qi just inside and above his ears anytime he needs to deal with the nobles. His language
comprehension and memory skills seem to be located there. The downside for that method of qi circulation is that he always feels slightly off afterwards, his emotions flaring at unexpected times and events. So unless needed, he has made it a rule only to enhance his entire brain instead of just parts.

  The moment the many workers in his employ put the last brick and metal symbol in pace, Ket notices. The stream of power pumped into the room he is sitting in no longer just diffuses around the entire space. Instead, it is being guided to concentrate on his throne. Spreading his qi through the entire town and the surrounding lands, he feels the effects of the formation he has been working on for two months now. Mana and qi for miles around is pulled towards the city. The streams are channelled above the houses, guided into bigger streams that all converge towards Ket’s location.

  The macro effect of the circle truly starts when the entire thing is complete, right about when the group of people in the central plaza start moving. The flames and magical stones illuminating the streets flicker at the sudden increase of power, and Ket starts breathing deeper. The qi levels on the planet, in general, might be rather lacking compared to the amount of qi that was hanging in the air inside Tree, but concentrating all that thin power for many kilometres around makes for a hefty stream. Ket breathes in deeper, taking in the power, guiding it to his brain, and making it his own.

  Then his door is kicked in. The building he has been assigned to is the central government building. This is basically the neutral ground where the major families and factions of the city do all their bickering and fighting. The opulent building is rather pretty on the outside but is not built for defence at all. Ket’s chambers are located in the side of the building, right next to the servants’ quarters and storage rooms. Ket is sure that he should feel offended at the relatively paltry rooms that were given to him, but he has come to enjoy the simple and austere mood of the building. So it pisses Ket off that his door, thick wood with simple iron bands, is kicked in with such force that it cracks and splinters the entire thing.