The fact that her braincore is telling her that it was the right choice wiped away her temporary good mood. Then she thinks of their village leader, of his face when he opened his door and saw the couple he had tossed aside. Rityn will never admit it, but those few minutes of physical violence felt better than finding the solution to a complex problem.
After extracting their revenge, they had gone through the entire village, scanning everyone's auras. There were a few surprises; one man she’d thought a saint smelled of rape while a woman Rityn detested felt pure and clean, like an innocent flower. They had visited everyone, one by one. Bassik took charge there, feeling in his element while chatting with old friends and acquaintances.
Rityn fails to understand the techniques and strategies that Bass employed, but everyone he asked about coming with them to learn to cultivate answered yes. Then it was just a matter of bringing the people out, securing them to their pack mounts and leaving. They had left a much emptier village behind, the village chief left alone to deal with the dregs of the small society. She’d wished them all the best and then they left, guiding the small collection of mounts they had brought down the steep cliffs. Now they are returning to the capital’s portal, through which they will deliver the new recruits.
“Honey, do you mind if I restart my cultivation?” Bassik's question wakes her from her introspective mood.
Smiling, she turns to her husband. “Yes, please do so. The way you do stuff without being able to explain them is infuriating.”
“Ah, no. I’m not going back to a braincore. I was thinking of doing the blood path.”
“One of the new bases? I really don't get why Teach hasn’t standardized or indexed all those odd ways of storing power. It’s nearly a shame that he’s so insistent on freedom, else I’d bring in a couple of slaves and direct them.”
“That’s another reason I left the brain path; it felt too calculating. It makes you act on numbers, not on human morals.” Shooting his wife a very pointed look, Bassik continues, “And my dumbness is relieved somewhat, I think. I’ve been focussing all the structural qi to my brain for the last few days and I feel much more aware. I mean, I know why I do things instead of just doing them.”
Rityn clicks her tongue in annoyance but lets Bass continue. “The blood path seems interesting for a lot of reasons, and it sounds really cool. It’s life and warmth and fire and, wait,” she pauses for a second while thinking. “Have other core locations appeared?”
Rityn puts a piece of jade between her forehead and ring, closing her eyes. The small caravan travels across the sea in relative silence for a bit. The panicked mumbling of bound passengers fails to overpower the steady noise of high-speed legs pounding water. A few boats can be seen in the distance, but none are nearby. Bass worries about being seen for a moment but decides that it doesn't really matter and that they’ll see a moving spray of fog at the worst.
“Yes...” replies Rityn in a clipped tone. “More and more people are diverting from the three core locations. The first attempts reported a general feeling of resistance, but now anything is able to become a core, it seems. Did Tree’s meta energy field change? Nail cores… There is even an ex-braincore claiming to have developed a soulcore. It says here that they did some tests. His body is empty of qi, but he keeps absorbing it into somewhere unknown...
“The blood thing is pretty popular. It seems to perform like a weaker gutcore with much-improved recovery powers. That would make sense. So, the cultivation system only decides in what way the power is used? The guiding framework for the potential. That might make for a nice subject to study. Sea take me, but I want to be back on the moon, researching things.
“One cultivation system is… just inside his lungs? So, he’d have an ever-changing material base for his core? Breath attacks, it seems. Not his lungs, but the hollow spaces in his lungs. Stupid. Skincore is popular with the ladies. Maybe I should...” Rityn takes a small break from monologuing to look at her own skin. Years of rough living on coastal cliffs, filled with sharp rocks, plants and fish parts have left her skin a web of silver lines. Some people have skin complexions that scar easily, but Rityn hasn't seen anyone that scars as easy as she does.
“The brain-path! Now that is interesting. Using the entire brain instead of the stem. A less automated version of the actual braincore, it seems. Nervecore has a faster reaction speed; that’s logical. That little beastkin’s system of rings in the body is also useful. It seems to centre on the spine and they’ve discovered it’s good for perpetual motions. If those two bickering idiots wreck my lab, I’ll skin the both of them.
“That little beastcore guy reported that he was focusing on the horn when pushing qi. His highest qi density is inside the horn growing out of his forehead. That started a wave of ‘look at me being special with my extra body part’ idiots trouncing around. One little black savage girl reported an earcore, so her ears grew pointy. That one seems to be in between a heartcore and a gutcore, but smart. She also grew ten centimetres taller.
“Preliminary conclusion is that the mental image is more important than the physical location. Even the ear girl reported a single place for qi storage, despite that fact that both her ears are localized qi hotspots of equal power level. The haircore girl has reported an initial wish for beautiful and long hair she once saw a noblewoman with. She can now extend a single hair nine times its original length. Fine control, strength and longer extension seem to come with practice and gathering power.
“Failures too. One woman was found unconscious with internal bleeding. Vocal cords core. Her screaming technique rattled her brain and ruptured tissue. Dumb girl… Peniscore seems largely useless. Wait… he pissed with how much pressure? That’s enough to cut through single pass qi reinforced steel… Bassik, you will not go down the penis path. That poor boy needs to find a uterus cultivator when he goes through puberty, or he’ll cut the poor girl in half!
“One of the wilder beastkin actually managed to co-cultivate with an animal. Bass be a dear and remind me to not get involved with that pervert. And some more intent-based cores. A heartcore with a speed intent broke the sprinting records for the first two stages. One guy went with a liquid core, filling his entire body with liquid qi. He couldn't get to the core forming stage. Nearly died of blood loss when he tried, his nose bled so fiercely.
“External core. That little dumbass with a spoon is an inferior gutcore with the strongest spoon ever. I hope he gets into an accident… People tried all kinds of things: triangle core, excrement core, theoretical core, geometry core, time core. None of those really did anything or even worked. It seems like core locations need to be physical. Teach even commented here. Hmm, he says that more abstract concepts need a foundational level of power. That makes sense, I guess...”
Rityn takes a deep breath while scanning through the rest of new developments reported on Database. “Lots of things have been going on. Let’s hurry back, Bass!”
“Yes dear, we’re above land again, so you can look down now.”
Opening her eyes, she sees grass flashing by at high speed, the few scrubs mere dark green streaks as they run past. She looks at her husband, who is smiling vacantly. “Stop smiling.”
“I’m just so happy to see you be happy for once,” replies Bass. “That really never happens, you know. You’re Always too busy to be happy.”
Rityn is suddenly uncertain what to do. Instead of lashing out, like she usually does when she feels uncomfortable or is on unknown ground, she blushes and looks forward.
“We’ll be back in a few hours. We’ve got our family and friends with us and left that cunt of a chief behind, surrounded by bad people. Life’s not so bad, you know.”
“S-shut up, Bass. Or you won’t get your weekly night with me. And it is more than a few hours.”
Bass’s mouth snaps shut faster than a mortal's eye can see. The following minutes pass in relative peace and quiet, the only noise the low thunder of running feet. They are halfway through t
he beastkin plains when Bass suddenly pales, a shocked and horrified expression on his face.
“Honey...” asks Bass tentatively.
“Yes?” Rit replies with a dangerous tone to her voice.
“Why didn't we take the mission to install a portal stone near the savage tribes?” Bass asks slowly.
The people tied up behind them were pretty angry. These two had suddenly returned to the village after a completely fair and above-the-table lottery designated them as the sacrifice for the mage-led pirate raid. Them returning would only mean harsh and probably lethal retaliation from the pirate and mage factions. Bass had talked to them though and explained a few things. Then he suddenly asked them if they wanted to become strong, to start their own path. All of them had said yes automatically, without really thinking.
To then be tied up and placed atop some weird mutant was pretty scary. The fact that these beasts could run fast enough to walk across the sea was also pretty terrifying. But their tempers had started flaring once the shock and newness of the situation had faded, to be replaced by simmering anger at the not-too-popular couple.
The sight of Rityn savaging an entire forest in a blind rage was fairly hair-raising. Seeing Bassik try to calm her down, only for him to be smashed into the ground with an entire tree was terror-inducing. Seeing the thin man pull himself from the dirt like some undead monster was pants-pissingly scary.
Silent and not daring to think bad thoughts, none of the forcefully recruited people makes a single noise during the rest of the journey.
chapter thirty-five
Front
“Drew, wake up. I think we’re here.”
“I’m always here - where else should I be?” I blurt out. I appear to have slept. But I never sleep. The nightmares always come. But there were none? No sights of that long night of torture, those faces, and the begging? I am painfully reminded of the fact that I have still not found any suitable form of coffee plant.
The disorientation of sleep fades and I remember crafting rings until my augur was exhausted. And then that succubus sucked out any remaining energy I had left. “Okay, I’m up. What’s going on?”
“Your prediction was pretty accurate. It’s a good thing I set the foresail though. They look to be running out of juice. Casualties seem to be on the low end. Well, all the mages in the Gulf of Sentience have gathered over there, so they ought to pack a punch.”
I stumble from the large bed and make my way towards the front of the boat. I rub my eyes and am surprised to find grainy crust between my fingers. Sleep sand, now it’s been a while since I’ve had that happen. I put it in my ring and look up. I ignore that a foresail is not used on a modern-designed boat like this, correcting her is not important right now.
Rhea is standing on the bow’s pulpit, stretching in order to see farther. I follow her gaze and see the black stone of the Mana Dungeon reflecting a steady stream of colourful lights. A thunderous column of dark clouds hangs high in the sky, casting the entire dungeon in dark shadows. The entire sight has me on edge. Something about it feels wrong to me. The dome of reflective obsidian is just as massive as I remember it. The Tower’s base is half a kilometre wide and a dozen high, but the Mana Dungeon’s diameter of just over a kilometre makes it look a lot bigger and a lot more imposing.
The buildings stuck to the side of the glossy sphere are all gone, probably wiped away by the constant assault of sea creatures. Remnants of walls jut from the lower areas of the surface here and there. Yellow and brown glowing spots on top of the dungeon are a sign of new construction work being done. The previously barren top is now a bustling and overpopulated warren of activity ringed by crenelated walls, their roughness and imperfections telling of quick, rather than pretty, work.
The mage forces seem to be holding steady for now - they are holding off the attacking mutants with admirable efficiency - so there is no need to swoop in like some sort of hero just yet. I query Database for any information relevant to power rankings and start observing the slow siege happening in the distance.
My first observation is that the amount of aquatic mutants present is less than I had predicted. The most likely reason is that the stunt I pulled at the Parduuk islands diverted a portion of those forces. We left most of them behind in our trek northwards, but the slower and bigger mutants should arrive here in a day or so.
Next, I observe the ranking system of the mages. A bit of qi in my eyes allows me to make out individuals even from this great distance, letting me conclude that the mages with brightly coloured robes are the most powerful. A grey-brown clad mage is slowly working mud into a new section of wall. A mage clad in a more vibrant shade of yellow does the same amount of work in seconds instead of minutes.
Let’s see, an apprentice mage - capable of lighting a candle or similar small feats - would be classified similarly as a private or corporal - a soldier with a good weapon and some training. Next up, a sergeant, similar to a journeymage, a professionally trained soldier with full combat gear.
Comparing a dude with a metal stick and a wielder of magical arts is somewhat like comparing apples and oranges. This ranking system seems to only look at effectiveness, basically comparing calories. A colonel - a highly skilled soldier - has theoretically the same combat effectiveness as a master mage. They are both capable of eliminating a large house filled with peasants before running out of energy.
The fact that the mage could do it again after a short meditation session and that the soldier would need a lot more rest is helpfully ignored here.
Then there are the majors and full mages. Both capable of wiping out a small town on their own. A commodore would be the best fighter of a large city and could, theoretically, destroy that city, just like a grand mage could.
Like that makes any fucking sense! I ignore my burgeoning headache and check the latest rank. A general or high mage, either an invincible weapons master or the highest tier of mage. Right…
A qi gathering heartcore could blow up an entire kingdom if he has a nuke, for fuck's sake. How do I translate this to my students and cultivation, then? I can’t use punching power as a measuring stick, physical cultivators would come out on top.
A normal human body contains a dozen kilograms of combustible material, somewhere in between gasoline and TNT. But no, I can't use that metric as a measurement either. Fat contains more calories than muscle, after all. Sensing the amount of qi inside a person is only good for measuring my students. Mages command the mana in the air instead of taking it for themselves.
Okay, I give up. I don’t want to automate this problem without determining a clear measuring method first because this looks like one of those tricky issues that will just give out loads of useless data if I let a process handle it. Let’s just use subjective destructive power then, the dumbest way to measure strength.
I look over at the mages again and see one blue-clad example stand on a raised platform, his hand in the air. One platform over, stands a purple mage, also with his hands in the air. Wait, upon closer inspection, that purple one is a woman.
They are the brightest mages I currently see, and counting all the different shades of robes that are more grey leads me to the conclusion that the two are high mages. They wave their hands some more and I can actually feel the fear and loathing radiating from the duo all the way over here. Then lightning cracks down from the dark clouds, frying and cooking a fifty-meter long sea slug that was crawling up the side of the dungeon.
“Any theories on why this is happening?” asks Rhea as she looks away from the spectacle.
“Nope. The Tower, Peak, and capital dungeons are normal. The Tower hasn’t changed its internals even though it snapped in half and is still spewing qi. This one seems different though. It feels different too. Check the entrance.” I point at the small space where the dark stone of the dungeon opens up into its entrance. I see elemental monsters make their way out of the dark tunnel now and then. The mutants seem oddly indifferent to the creatures, only trampling o
ver them when they get underfoot.
All the escaping dungeon creatures seem to be from around the sixtieth levels. I also notice that some creatures have crystals jutting from their bodies. I already suspected that the mana crystals on the ceiling of the Dungeon acted like some sort of power supply, those creatures must have gotten their appendages on their own crystals somehow.
It's interesting to see all of this with my own eyes. The spy drone hanging above this place got worse and worse reception, probably due to the rising mana levels and developing storm. I lost the visual feed a day ago, only receiving the much less interference-prone positioning and status data. The drone is hanging above me right now, its connection strong due to my proximity. The visuals are still a garbled mess though. Something I will need to address in a future redesign.
I assign Database two tasks. The research into mana disturbances will take a while, so I give the other task - measuring and ranking mages - priority. With a slight pain in my heart, I set it to measure raw combat effectiveness instead of any proper measuring metric. I keep looking at the slow fight happening on top of the mana dungeon while feeding the visuals into Database and checking on its progress.
“What does it feel like?” Rhea asks me. I turn and see her staring at me with a ponderous expression on her face. “Underground. Try sensing through the mass of mana under the Dungeon.”
I follow her pointed finger and start staring at the sea. Then I sense myself. My own power, seeping into the ground. “Shiiiiiiiiit.” I mentally curse at my own negligence. The Tower is venting its produced power upwards, right into my qi containment formation. I don’t really know why, because I didn’t sense it venting mana, the energy it must have been producing previously. But the Mana Dungeon has a different shape, and I thusly conclude it must be venting its mana differently.
I focus my senses away from the emotional chaos in front of me and towards the bottom of the Dungeon. Qi with my fingerprints, a precursor of my current base, is trickling into the seabed. The Mana Dungeon is located on a sloping rise, the seabed forming a submerged mountain on which the large black sphere rests. Casting my senses further, I notice large tracts of solid rock, mineral, and subterranean lakes filling with qi.
The Dao of Magic: Book 3: A Western Cultivation Series Page 30
