The Dao of Magic: Book 3: A Western Cultivation Series

by Andries Louws

  I am cut off when the small object detonates in a rising pillar of misted seawater and I thank all that is holy for the fact that I managed to toss the thing just in time. We both stare at each other for a long moment. I hear Lola squeak a question mark at us and see her looking towards us from on top of a large carapace-covered goldfish.

  “Please don't… Just...”

  She sheepishly nods and goes back to steering. “Ah, those guys are mad now. Maybe I shouldn't take away their prototypes all of a sudden?”

  “How are you pulling that stuff out of nowhere anyway?” I question her.

  “Tree seems to be helping me,” she nonchalantly replies.

  Tree again. What is the plant version of bestiality? Surely that big golden piece of wood won't steal my girl? But Rhea has a tree in her head now? So, she is part tree maybe, and Tree is sensing that? Is this revenge for never giving the bastard a name? Gods, I am suspicious and jealous of a plant. Where is the closest certified psychologist?

  I decide to stop thinking about that for now and focus on easier-to-answer questions like in what direction I should grow my own cultivation base…

  ⁂

  Valerius frowns deeply. He was happily weeding the garden in the golden glow and shade of Tree when this Vox guy came up to him and started yammering about mass producing food. The way the redhead kept staring at the hulking beastkin standing next to him causes shivers to run up the earth mage’s spine.

  “Food. Please stop bothering me and give me a quest. My pa told me to do what I love, but he never told me that I need to do it for free.” Valerius feels good and smiles smugly at the frowning Vox.

  “I put one on Database. Re-Haan agreed.”

  “Ah, Database. Could you give it to me in writing? I don’t do that stuff anymore.” Valerius turns his back to the trio that is now staring holes in his back.

  “Has he fallen to her clutches?” asks Rodrick.

  “He doesn’t look that dumb. Only slightly,” interjects Green.

  “Guys, let’s not talk bad about him where he can hear it. He can't help it if he’s dumb,” shushes Vox. The redhead glows slightly as he pulls out a sheet of paper. His finger produces stark rays of light that burn black letters onto the stationary. “Here, Val, The mission and its details.”

  “That’s not my name. Please call me Vale- oh, this is nice paper. Even better than Dungeon-won stock,” murmurs Valerius as he takes the presented sheet. “What? You guys know that the king is only keeping power because he has that dungeon, right?”

  “Do you know that dungeon can also give out mana crystals?” deflects Vox.

  This genuinely surprises Valerius, but he hides it well under his bored facade. “Then do you know that the king has been losing grip over that dunge- ah… Ah, I understand. Alright, I’ll talk to that big pile of data for once.”

  The gardener reads the sheet of paper once more. The mission paints a situation, asking for help in an open-ended manner. Valerius raises an eyebrow at the realization that this mission’s description is completely different from what he saw before. He had decided to abstain from using Database because of its severely limiting nature.

  The mild-mannered man had been told what to do - and what not to do - his entire life. He had grasped this opportunity to change his life and start living for himself instead of being a small and complying cog in the machine. He had taken a firm decision to limit communication with Database when he felt its extreme approach to absolute information. This new way of formulating a mission, on the other hand, actually got his creative juices flowing.

  The paper paints an interesting picture. A certain organisation is keeping an entire city in a stranglehold, thanks to a near-complete control of the food supply. Many slaves and peasants are being used and exploited in this scheme. How could the school and their students set up a system that relieves the organisation of this power?

  There is some more information about the actual location and groups involved, but the initial parts of the mission are purely theoretical problems. Valerius decides to take a closer look and hesitatingly puts a piece of jade to his forehead. The hated feeling of absolutes and rigid structure flows into his mind, but the ex-earth mage grits his teeth and requests the relevant mission.

  Vox, Rodrick, and Green awkwardly stand there as Valerius puts a piece of jade to his forehead while looking like he’s having the most painful shit of his life. Then the drably dressed mage opens his eyes. The trio takes a step back as the man’s eyes start sparkling with a yellow fire.

  “Mass producing food, no traces of qi. Those nobles tell people what to do, no? Let’s kick ‘m down. Telling other people what to do... I'm sure that there is a boy out there that only wants to become a farmer. And they’re stopping him! Unacceptable! EVERYONE! We are mass producing food now! Tree, I’ll need to clear a large stretch of forest, my excuses in advance! Get those tater cuttings from storage. Is that grain growth test done yet?”

  Valerius walks off, yellow power billowing off of him in sinter waves. The people in the field - mostly beastkin with flat teeth - all stand upright and start running as soon as they receive orders. The neatly maintained rows of herbs, grains, fruits, and flowers reach to Valerius as he walks through the fields to the treeline. Golden tendrils of power come down from the sky, gently pulling trees from the ground and ferrying them off into the distance.

  Valerius reaches the freshly churned soil left behind by the deforestation action and starts waving his hands. The ground drinks up the yellow qi with great thirst as the rough earth is turned into neat rows, with great speed. The other workers come running, gently holding small plants or sacks of seeds and start planting.

  The trio closes their mouths, stunned at the sudden transformation from dull gardener to a god of horticulture. “I, uh, think we can trust that the food supply is taken care of,” Vox hesitatingly states.

  “I think so.” Rodrick slowly nods.

  “Alright! Let’s go to the good part, we need to get it cooked! Oh-my-dungeon! If those guys setting up that kitchen are half as good as Teach, I’ll die of overeating. Come on, guys!” Green starts marching to the remnants of Teach's castle. A few heartcores are hauling the last remains of the ruin to storage areas while a small community of culinary enthusiasts has started congregating around the growing kitchen.

  “It does smell a lot more fragrant after that cooking spectacle,” says Rodrick as he sniffs the air.

  “Thanks for helping me out. I got to go do some stuff, cya later!” Vox waves at the two bonecores before running into the forest.

  Rodrick is about to follow him but is stopped by a pouting Green. “Okay. Look here, big boy. I would have thought twice about trying to ensnare you had I known you were a pole dancer, but that doesn't mean that I’m regretting it. Anyway, thanks for not pushing me away or anything.” Green smiles with a hint of sadness as she darts off towards the food area.

  “Pole dancer? Green, come back here! What do you mean!?” Rodrick glances at the forest line where Vox disappeared before sighing and following the green woman.

  chapter thirty

  Toiling

  “No! You incompetent asswipe! The prototype can't just disappear!” A student dressed in a long white coat throws pieces of paper and small tools at a figure at the other end of the table.

  “Stop blaming me every time your stupid-fucking-wet fingers drop something!” The victim of the assault deflects most of the projectiles and starts throwing items back.

  “IT’S A MASSIVE PIECE OF METAL! Where could I have dropped it you mongrel!”

  “HOW SHOULD I KNOW! I turned around and it was gone, you snot fuck!”

  The fighting duo is inside a large room, white stone outlining large windows that hold large glass panes. The view is spectacular and otherworldly, showing a growing hubbub of white buildings and training grounds, with a golden tree and two mountains floating off into the distance.

  None of the room's occupants appreciate the view, however.
Most of them are doing their own thing while ignoring the two men arguing like a married couple. A few are cowering behind their own work tables, and some others are actively betting on the outcome.

  The room is filled with all kinds of weird looking things, from complex metal contraptions to tools and chemical supplies. The walls are lined with cupboards that are slowly filling with more stuff. People are walking in and out of the laboratory, dropping off freshly made materials or taking away items, now and then.

  A loud bang causes everyone to freeze. The two fighting students stare at the large metal object with wide eyes. Fog wafts from the rime-covered muzzle and starts covering the floor in a cool mist.

  “It’s back! Oh, my baby, who took you?”

  “Hey, you’re not going to admit I didn’t steal it, then? Tsk,I should have known you slippery greaseball. Hey, miss Re-Haan sent me a notification… wow… alright, you all got to see this.” The beastkin closes his eyes for a moment, causing the space around his head to warp with wafting heat for a single moment.

  “-helping me maybe? Her leaf has a little bunny face on it!” A round image pops into view, showing two people standing on a wooden sailboat.

  “Did you try taking the fruit from your tree? Maybe you can make use of the products directly?” The entire room is silent as everyone stares with fascination at the display in front of them. The moving image is pretty grainy and the beastkin has started to sweat from the effort, but everyone can easily see the frozen section of sea and monster just ahead of the boat.

  Re-Haan produces the flaming apple to very little murmurs. The room explodes into discussion when she pulls the large cannon from thin air and starts blasting the sea with it.

  “-where is it? Has anyone over here seen my prototype? I was about to test it.” A blue-skinned female barges in furiously, stopping as she sees the projected image.

  Teach’s voice sounds from the image next. “Throw that thing away now! What the fuck are you doing, you crazy woman! Don’t go pulling grena-” The newcomer pales as she sees the pillar of rising seawater caused by the explosion.

  Everyone looks between the fading pillar of water, Re-Haan’s smiling face, the duo of students, and the trembling newcomer. The blue female coughs once before speaking. “Hey everyone. You know, I laughed at some of you when Database and Tree had to intervene and then imposed penalties. The ultra-high-pressure steam boiler or that optimal exothermic reaction test that got forcefully stopped? Yeah, I would like to apologise for laughing in your faces at that time. And a free tip, do not mess around with nitric acid compounds too much; they tend to explode. Bye!”

  A short moment of silence happens as the beastkin gasps while letting the imagery fade. His rival sneers and speaks. “Okay furball, I guess you are good for something after all. Anyway, the missus was borrowing our cannon, so there’s no need to start throwing stuff at me.”

  “You started thro… no, don't let the grease stain get to you. You bare assface; let’s review the data then. She kept it on default. Cold and a water carrier. Hmm.”

  “A single shot used. Energy usage in a real-life situation is half a percent higher than in the simulations. Now why woul-”

  “Qi containment field. It drew the extra power.”

  “I was about to say that you cur!”

  “Then do so instead of whining. We need to figure out how to load it again when it’s empty.”

  “Replaceable charges. Database is building a rough prototype as we speak. I designed it while you were playing with moving pictures.”

  “That design is a total rip off of that gun thing Selis was waving around! The desert bird thing. Making a large central storage area with qi cables feeding multiple cannons is much more sustainable, and much safer.”

  “Okay, I gave you too much credit for the moving picture thing. You did see the rectangle with moving images that Teach has installed on the boat, right? It wasn’t in the final design so he must have made it. At least that object won’t spout such idiotic drivel. A single weak point? One lucky hit and all the cannons are toast!”

  “So, fragile and explosion-prone packets of compressed and volatile qi is a better solution? And that screen is half a million points.”

  The discussion between the two devolves into name calling and personal attacks again, as the rest of the researchers collectively decide to ignore the duo. A few brain and gutcores start working on producing more cannon barrels after a softly murmured discussion about registering their tasks on Database. Another group starts planning and performing some actual tests about the reloading problem.

  Down the hall, a blue-skinned female frets over the pile of small metal objects that are heaped on her desk. She casts a glance at the complicated setup of glassware and heaters that have allowed her to produce the deceptively innocent looking objects. She has a stone on her forehead while murmuring in a panic. “No, come on DeeBee! Don’t take away my raw materials rights. I didn't know!”

  Tears start welling in her eyes as she sits down with a defeated slump to her shoulders. “Yes, I know I haven’t passed the explosive safety test yet, but No! I haven't touched pressure explosives since my ban! And I didn’t even think about nuclear stuff since your warning. This is not a real explosive, just a rather quick deflagration! That’s not the same thing at all!”

  The blue woman keeps pleading with the information storage construct without any results. She sullenly throws her small stockpile of high-explosive devices out the window. The bare stone surface of the moon opens up, swallowing the dangerous items one by one.

  “There, I did it! No need fo- NOOOOOOO!” She collapses to the floor as she receives a message. Re-Haan just ordered her to go and welcome newcomers for an entire day! A whole day in which she’s not allowed to do any experiments. No discussion with fellow scientists or watching other experiments go wrong for a full twenty-four hours.

  Her braincore hurts just thinking about it. She shuffles down the stairs, past all the other rooms filled with people doing interesting stuff, and walks outside the building. She looks at the large, square building and slowly makes her way over to the enclosed area surrounding the apartment complex. A wide variety of students are standing there, welcoming the wide-eyed and hesitating newcomers that trickle out of the building.

  Some qi-less dumbass is standing off to the side, shouting stupid stuff about how Database and Teach are bad. The woman scoffs and sends a small thread of qi towards the beastkin, gently prying at the wooden planks of the box he is standing on. She notices more strands of qi doing the same thing and she grins.

  The beastkin faceplants under a chorus of laughter by the time she reaches the gates to the grassy fields of the complex. The qi she used for the small sabotage is sucked up by the moon, but it’s a small price to pay in her opinion.

  Inside the building, a boy slowly wakes up. The last thing he remembered was Ket and that pretty girl - Tess, if he recalls correctly - taking him and the rest of the kids to Ket’s old shack. The boy was relieved to be free of that terrible smelling place and the black muck he was covered in. So relieved that he didn't really pay attention to the fact that Ket’s shack was in its previous place again. He has looked for the place for hours, if not days, before, and he would have sworn it had disappeared.

  Then Ket had pushed them through a white line in space, and he’d blacked out.

  Opening his eyes, the boy doesn't move a muscle. He sees a completely unfamiliar ceiling with a small glowing object shining with a bright white light. He moves his eyes slightly, seeing an otherwise white and simple room. Then he smells the food. Cooked grains with herbivore meat in a spicy sauce.

  Many questions spin through his mind. Why didn’t he smell that sooner with the scent so extremely thick? Where is he? Why does he feel a web of tubes running through his entire body? Did Ket sell him? Maybe the black-haired girl? Where are his clothes and what is this soft white thing he is wearing?

  The questions keep piling up as the boy gets up and s
tarts eating. The incredibly intense sensation of taste overwhelms him for a bit, adding to the weirdness that’s going on. Observing the room, he sees a rather large bed with white sheets, a desk, a chair, and a small table holding the food. All of it white, except for the small green stone laying on the desk. He reaches for it, but his short stature prevents him from reaching.

  He doesn’t dare to stand on the chair as it’s polished white stone and white seat covering looks very expensive. Instead, the boy pushes the door open, at least he tries to. Only after a full minute of stubborn effort does he manage to slide the door open a crack. Peeking through the gap, he sees a white hallway, doors similar to his own on both sides. Then he sees a face, entirely black, peering through at him from behind its own door from the opposite room.

  “Hey,” he tries.

  “Hey,” it replies.

  “I’m Corl. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Willa. Where are we?”

  Corl recognises that he is talking to a girl from the tone of her voice. Her pitch-black skin colour, black eyes, and bright green hair tells him that she is from the far-eastern savage tribes. Her accent - a rarity when changing the spoken language is seen as a rebellion against the Flight - is more proof that she is far from home.

  “No idea. Let’s find out. I think I know a guy,” Corl replies, puffing up his chest and walking out of his room. The door slams shut behind him making him jump slightly. The girl also walks out, and Corl can see that she is wearing a simple white dress and is clutching something in her hand.

  “You know what’s this?” Willa asks while holding her hand open. Corl looks and sees a small green stone, similar to the one he couldn't reach in his room. A simple picture of a face with an object on its forehead is engraved on the surface. Corl squints and sees a smaller face in the object, and that smaller face also something on its forehead.