“What the fuck!” The rest cried in unison.
Chapter 670
H adjar, the first of the four to recover, carefully followed Einen. Summoning the Black Blade, he used it to check how wide the invisible bridge was, which turned out to be about three feet — wide enough for two people to walk along it side by side at most. His first cautious step was followed by a second, and then a third...
“That’s incredible,” Came the whispers from behind him.
“What is it even made of?”
“Look at it through the World River!”
Hadjar facepalmed. Why hadn’t he thought of such a simple solution? Closing his eyes, he looked through the World River. Everything physical that mortals were so used to relying on disappeared. Instead, streams of energy swirled around him. Sometimes, they assumed some vague shapes. In the midst of this ocean of energy, the bridge leading to Greven’Dor looked like a clear, distinct line. It was surprisingly solid and looked like a constant in a world full of uncertainty and ephemerality.
“It’s made of energy,” Tom breathed out. "Demons and Gods! This is a bridge of pure energy!”
“How much of it is there, if it’s so strong in the physical world?” Dora, unable to restrain herself, tapped her warhammer against the bridge. She didn’t use much of her power or the mysteries she’d mastered, but even so, the bridge of energy should’ve reacted in some way — by absorbing the impact, or suffering a little from it, or even becoming stronger for it. However... Nothing happened.
“Don’t do that again, please,” Anise asked her friend.
Shocked, Dora realized she’d briefly forgotten about everything else around her. She shook her head and returned her heavy warhammer to its sheath on her back.
“Do you remember Mentor Dearius saying that the modern world of martial arts has left the ancient times far behind?”
Hadjar chuckled to himself. He recalled the Land of Immortals, where children were born as true cultivators, and Mage City. The world was truly vast, and many wonders and mysteries were hidden beneath the Heavens.
“Right now, I doubt that.” Tom said. Still limping, he held on to Anise’s shoulder, who was walking in front of him to offer him her support. “Perhaps Mentor Dearius should see this bridge before making such a statement.”
“You should talk less.”
Everyone fell silent. Einen rarely spoke, so it was quite startling to them. The islander stopped so abruptly that Hadjar almost collided with his back.
“What’s the matter?” He asked his friend.
Instead of answering him, Einen poked the bridge ahead with his spear-staff. Instead of hitting an energy barrier, the weapon simply plunged into the void.
“Hmm,” Hadjar considered this.
He looked at the bridge through the World River, but in the world of energy, it still looked quite solid.
“What’s going on over there?” Anise asked.
She couldn’t see what was going on up ahead because of the two friends. Tom and Dora also stopped. Five warriors stood in the middle of the void, above an icy chasm bisected by a river of molten metal. If someone had told Hadjar he’d find himself in this situation six months ago, he wouldn’t have believed them.
“The bridge ends here.”
“What?”
“That’s impossible. It looks solid in the World River.”
Hadjar and Einen didn’t waste time explaining anything to the nobles. Instead, the islander took a rope with a hook on the end from his spatial artifact. It was both a tool for climbing and a formidable weapon. Einen used it with great skill. He threw the hook one hundred and fifty feet ahead of them, but it fell into the abyss. With a sharp jerk of his hand, Einen reeled it back in.
“See for yourselves.” Hadjar said without turning around.
“Gods damn it!” Tom swore.
“Did you really expect Greven’Dor to open its arms wide for you? Just like those girls in the “Garden of Dreams” you usually go to?” Dora mocked Tom.
Hadjar had wanted to visit a few brothels as well, but hadn’t had the chance to yet...
“I didn't expect anything!”
Einen spun the hook again, putting some energy into the movement of his hand. The hook, after covering twice the distance from before, caught on the edge of the bridge.
“Do you think it was made that way on purpose?” Hadjar whispered in his friend’s ear in the language of the Islands. “Or did it simply deteriorate over time?”
Einen, after tying the rope around the edge of the broken bridge, straightened up.
“I don’t know much about this energy, my barbarian friend, but I do know that time has no power over it.”
“So it was on purpose,” Hadjar nodded. “Let me go first.”
Einen raised an eyebrow, but moved aside without asking any questions.
“As you wish.”
“I’ll go on ahead!” Hadjar shouted without turning around. He secured himself with the rope and threw the opposite end to his friend. He only trusted him. “If I fall, come up with another plan.”
No one tried to stop him.
Hadjar took a deep breath and used his Call. Wrapped in its cloak, he stepped carefully onto the rope. It was no thicker than a clothesline, but it was enough for a true cultivator to walk on. Legends said that Lords who’d combined both types of energy could stand on water. Hadjar had never seen such a thing, but he believed it. He covered the first thirty feet quite calmly. But as soon as he took another step, he instantly understood — time hadn’t destroyed or weakened the bridge to Greven’Dor. Whoever had created this mystical structure had also hidden some traps inside it.
Chapter 671
H adjar suddenly felt cold, invisible threads wrap around him. They penetrated through the fur of his coat and caressed his skin lightly, making the warrior shiver.
“What’s wrong, Hadjar?” Einen shouted from behind him.
“There’s an obstacle here. I’ll try to keep going! Be ready to catch me!”
Enduring the cold, he was able to walk another thirty feet. Once he covered that distance again, the cold threads turned into thick ropes. Wrapping around Hadjar, they penetrated through his skin, touching his internal organs. They slowed his blood flow and made Hadjar feel as if he were fragile. He was careful, but even then, every step he took along the rope caused it to vibrate. He spent two minutes moving each foot, but he eventually managed to cover the next fifteen feet.
What happened next made Hadjar think about retreating. The cold easily pierced his physical body and then touched his energy body. If not for the Wolf Broth and the dragon’s heart, it would’ve frozen him from the inside out. Hadjar would’ve turned into a dead icicle and fallen straight into the hot metal whose vapors were rising higher and higher.
But all these physical problems paled in comparison to how the cold affected his energy body. It prevented his power from flowing through his meridians and nodes, depriving his muscles of any support from his energy.
[Warning!
Mortal peril detected. The host cannot survive in this environment for more than an hour and a half.]
“Great!” Hadjar whispered, teeth chattering in the cold.
Despite the fact that the cold had slowed down the flow of his energy, it couldn’t change the fact that his meridians could store energy independently. The amount they absorbed was nothing compared to his Core’s capacity, but this still gave Hadjar an hour and a half to work with.
“What’s going on?” Anise shouted.
“It’s cold. Very cold. The cold affects your physical and energy body! If you aren’t confident in your abilities, use a potion.”
Hadjar continued on his way. He walked very slowly and it took him three or four minutes to take each step. Once he was at the 120ft mark, Hadjar froze in place. Before crossing this ‘line’, he gathered his thoughts and strengthened his body with his willpower.
And he was right to do so. The ropes of cold became a single canvas
. Covering Hadjar, it began to gradually shrink around its victim, as if an ice giant had embraced him from all sides. His skin was turning white, and his teeth were chattering feverishly. Hadjar realized that he couldn’t even take the next step. He’d almost lost control of his own body.
All he could do was lift his sword slightly and, with great difficulty, shout:
“Begone!”
Hadjar’s cold-bound energy passed through the Black Blade slowly. It spread out in the air like a black blur of mysteries. It sought to form a cutting edge, but remained an indistinct blob. The cold was so strong that it could restrain even the mysteries of the Weapon’s Heart. It was a miracle that Hadjar had managed to hold on to the swaying rope.
Once the patches of black energy imbued with Sword energy enveloped Hadjar, he was able to breathe more freely. The cold no longer encircled him, but pressed down against a kind of energy shield instead. And so, little by little, hiding behind his energy and mysteries, Hadjar was able to reach the 200ft mark.
[Warning!
Imminent demise detected! The host’s vital organs will continue to function for: 15 minutes...
14 minutes 59...58... 57… seconds]
Hadjar had another 130 feet to go. And he had no doubt that the trials would only get more difficult.
“Do you think he can handle it?” Dora asked.
Hadjar didn’t hear the discussion going on behind him.
“Look over there,” Anise pointed at the cold haze. “Whatever that is, it has a power that defies explanation.”
“I feel nothing.” Tom held out his hand over the rope and immediately withdrew it. “That anomaly has the power to hold back the mysteries of the Weapon’s Heart.”
“None of us can feel it,” Einen said, flustered. He held his friend’s safety line so tightly in his hands that his veins bulged and his knuckles turned white.
“Look!” Dora exclaimed.
As Hadjar passed the 200ft mark, the fumes from the molten Celestial Metal suddenly rose up.
“Pull him back!” Tom shouted urgently.
“No.” Einen didn’t even flinch.
“The fumes from that metal can kill any cultivator!” Anise said, panicked.
“If Hadjar had sensed danger, he would’ve jumped off the rope himself.”
Instead of going back, Hadjar suddenly stopped and stood there, unmoving, for about five minutes. Then, to the astonishment of the nobles, he sat down in a lotus position and held out his left hand in front of him.
“What is that madman doing?” Dora took a step back, startled.
“He’s training.” Einen opened his inhuman, purple eyes a little.
The islander wasn’t mistaken. When Hadjar had felt the fumes of the molten Celestial Metal around him, he’d been struck by an unexpected, insane idea. Anise had been right, and the fumes were indeed capable of destroying any cultivator, but only when they were greatly concentrated around said cultivator.
The amount reaching Hadjar right now was no more than ‘the tip of a huge iceberg’ and he was going to break it off. Sitting down in the lotus position, still buffeted by the cold, he forced the fumes to twist into a spiral using his willpower, which made his neural network bombard him with warnings.
But he didn’t back down, even when he was coughing and spitting out blood. The number of messages exceeded all possible limits, but Hadjar simply waved them away. No computer module was capable of calculating a warrior’s will. And it was precisely because of his steely, sharp willpower that Hadjar was still among the living. He hadn’t allowed himself to move on to the house of his forefathers. He’d said ‘NO’ to Death, and it had stumbled.
Suddenly, Hadjar’s heart stopped. His internal organs came within an inch of failing completely, and his skin turned from white to scarlet. Despite all of that, he was able to condense an ounce of metal in his hand. As soon as a drop of liquid Celestial Metal formed on his palm, he instantly absorbed it into his physical body using the ‘Path Through the Clouds’ Technique. It felt as if he’d harnessed a sunbeam and pierced his flesh with it. Without stopping, Hadjar sent the drop even further, into his energy body. The pain was now better than any warm drink. His energy, which had been held back by the cold until recently, exploded with savage power and fury. The Sword’s mysteries scattered all around him. But Hadjar didn’t stop there. He sent the drop of metal even further — into the world of his soul.
“AARRGH!” An inhuman roar rang out.
“I can’t believe this…”
“Who is this commoner?”
“Hadjar Darkhan, the Mad General who rebels against the Heavens themselves.” Anise whispered.
Chapter 672
S urrounded by forests and valleys, hills and rivers, stood a mountain. For centuries, various animals had lived on it. They’d hunted, fought, multiplied and died. They’d grown stronger in order to eke out a place for themselves under the sun hidden by the dense canopies. Trees, coniferous and deciduous both, broad and short alike, grew on this mountain. Like all living things, they longed for the distant sun. They provided shade for the forest life flourishing under them and allowed countless birds to build their nests on them.
A horseman was racing through a golden wheat field. His expensive clothes, woven from a shimmering, magical fabric, fluttered in the wind. His long hair was pulled back in a tight bun, decorated with a pin of exquisite grace and beauty. Everything he had was incredible and proclaimed his uniqueness and his high position to the world. The horse that carried the rider could’ve easily been the subject of legends and songs sung by the bards for thousands of years. Perhaps even the Emperors would’ve bowed to this man.
When he reached the mountain, the rider stopped his horse abruptly and dismounted. Dropping to his knees, he bowed low and touched his forehead to his cupped hands. Only then did tiny horns poke out from underneath his long hair.
“I’m very sorry, Minister Ju,” the rider said, “but I must trouble you.”
He held out his hand. A mighty wave of willpower swept over the mountain. It washed away every creature that wasn’t strong enough to withstand its pressure. Hundreds of animals fell with their hearts instantly stopped. Brittle stones were cut to pieces, and young, thin trees were crushed. The mountain shuddered. If such a wave of willpower and energy had struck a city of mortals, it would’ve destroyed it utterly… Along with all its residents. The wave reached the other side of the mountain and disappeared into the air. The rider, who had such incredible power, lowered his head into his hands once again.
“Minister Ju!” He shouted, his voice sounding like spring thunder. “Minister Ju! Minister Ju! Mini-”
“WHO DARES?”
The rider shuddered, and the entire world around him followed suit. The mountain moved. From the mountaintop, huge boulders began to roll down, turning into a calamity. They crushed lesser stones to dust and destroyed ancient trees. Birds soared into the sky with frantic speed. Animals flowed down the slopes like a multicolored blanket. Some survived, fleeing through the hills and valleys, but most of them disappeared beneath the onslaught of the boulders.
“WHO?” The voice repeated fiercely, “Who dares interrupt my four centuries of meditation?”
Two huge shadows covered the valley. What had just recently been a mountain turned into a dragon with enormous wings. The mountain range turned into the ridges running down its back and long tail. The mountain’s peak turned into its upturned, fanged muzzle. Two amber eyes lit up.
“Minister Ju!” The rider said, “It is I, your servant, Chargoo!”
“Chargoo?” The dragon’s voice lowered as it calmed. “I hope you have a pretty good explanation for why you interrupted me. I was close to mastering the next stage of the ‘Stargates’ Technique.”
Beads of sweat rolled down the rider’s forehead. The ‘Stargates’ Technique was one of the best hand-to-hand combat Techniques in the Dragon Lands. Only a few dragons close to the court of the Dragon Emperor had the right to receive a tru
ncated copy of it. After all, Divine level Techniques were one of the pillars that kept the Seven Empires in check and allowed the Lords of the Heavens to rule over them.
“I do, Minister Ju,” the rider, his hands shaking, took a crystal out of his gigantic bag. He held up a huge, very high-capacity spatial artifact, fifty feet long and twice as wide. Completely black, the crystal looked like a piece of sky granite that had been chipped away from the dome of the night sky.
The dragon stared at it for a moment, then roared angrily:
“Is this why you interrupted me, servant? Your stupidity will be the end of your entire family that raised such an idiot!”
The rider pressed his body against the ground. He looked utterly terrified. What might happen to him and his family at the mere request of Minister Ju would’ve made anyone tremble in fear.
“Please don’t be angry, great Minister Ju!” The rider’s voice was shaky and he was almost squeaking. “I beg you, take a closer look at the monument of the Black Storm-”
“I can see whose monument it is, you wretched bastard!” The dragon roared again. “Or do you actually think that I, Minister Ju, don’t recognize it? I’ve seen it hundreds of times before and-”
Suddenly, the dragon fell silent. His elongated, snakelike pupils narrowed, and then… the dragon disappeared. Instead, a middle-aged man with horns stood next to the monument. Handsome and stately, he was dressed in turquoise robes that looked even richer and more magical than the rider’s. Holding his right hand behind his back, he smoothed his long, well-groomed beard with his left.
He had the same hairstyle as the rider, except his hairpin was far more exquisite.
“If this is some kind of stupid joke, servant, I swear by the High Heavens that I’ll personally skin your wife and child.”
“I wouldn’t dare, Minister Ju,” Chargoo crawled up to the Minister’s expensive shoes and pressed his forehead against them. “I would never do that to you.”
Dragon Heart: Land of The Enemy. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 8 Page 15
