Wind (Buryoku Book 4)

by Aaron Oster

  “One of them was a Blue-Belt,” Geon corrected.

  “I don’t know if we can even count that as a fight,” Roy replied, feeling his body warming up with his motions. “I mean, he gave up in the middle of it.”

  “He was still a full stage higher than you.”

  Roy honestly wasn’t sure if he was proud or ashamed of that particular fight. Sure, Garnet had been a Blue-Belt, but the man had been so pathetic that it made his win seem pointless and sad.

  “How about we just forget about that and concentrate on the future instead?” Roy finally suggested. “I don’t know what that Sage will be throwing at us next, but whatever it is, we need to make sure we’re fully prepared.”

  “Agreed,” Geon replied. “Which means you need to develop some Qi techniques, and you also need to advance.”

  Roy gave a mental nod, showing that he was in complete agreement. The first step, creating Qi, had already been done. Now, it was time to make use of that Qi and start working on new techniques. He was still lacking in the Essence techniques department, mainly those more powerful ones that would help him earn the title of Master. He honestly had no idea where to even begin with those. Even Aika was having trouble with them, and she was ten times as talented as he was.

  Roy’s eyes flickered to the other side of the arena as a couple of people strode out. They were both wearing Blue-Belts, though he couldn’t make out what Dan. It seemed that they had plenty of others locked up here, which made him wonder how powerful the strongest of them were. Could they help him escape?

  Instead of approaching him, the other two started exercising, which finally gave Roy enough to cycle. He’d been generating some Essence on his own, but with the help of a couple of more powerful Martial Artists, he’d actually be able to make use of it.

  “I think I’ve warmed up enough,” he thought, stopping midway along the wall.

  His body was beginning to ache, meaning he’d overdone it. But, thankfully, he had a few days before he’d be forced to fight again. There were still a whole bunch of unanswered questions, like, for example, why he hadn’t faced the Annihilator as Xu had said he would for his fifth fight. It was supposed to be impossible to pay off debt – which he’d found out firsthand – but shouldn’t he have been put up against tougher opponents?

  There was a lot about this place that puzzled him, but for now, Roy needed to start cycling and work on his new techniques. Dropping into his cycling pose, Roy began pulling on the strands of golden Essence generated by the two Martial Artists. He remained as he was, even as more people came out to join the first two. He could feel them, yet at the same time, managed to block out all distraction. It felt strange to be able to see the world while not actually looking.

  “If you were better at sensing Essence, you’d be able to see a lot more clearly,” Geon admonished, ruining his tranquility.

  “Again, you do realize that I’m still technically new to this, right?”

  The Dungeon Core didn’t answer, allowing him to return to his cycling and planning. To Roy, someone who’d had endless trouble figuring out his first six techniques, the Qi alternatives were coming along far better than he’d hoped. For some reason, in every area where he’d had trouble with Essence, Qi seemed to come naturally.

  In his mind, he could feel the flow of Qi increasing, moving through his channels in a completely different way than Essence. It flowed slower, due to its heavier nature, yet at the same time, its movements were faster, more explosive, and far more powerful. His actual techniques, while the same on a base level, would act differently than their counterparts.

  The Exploding Fist, for example, would not simply detonate upon impact – at least, in theory. The way the Exploding Fist worked with Essence was by pulling the flow of power up through his arms and into his fists, ejecting the Essence as soon as his fist made contact. The expulsion of Essence created a bubble of force which would increase the power of his blow many times over, and when the bubble ruptured, the explosion of force would be at its peak. The entire technique happened in an instant, but the actual process was a lot more involved than it appeared on the surface.

  The technique could also be ejected from his elbows, knees, and feet, despite the technique’s name. However, with Qi, Roy could sense how differently the same attack would behave. The ejection of Qi from his fist would offer a far more violent explosion, but more than that, it would shape itself – not into an expanding sphere, but into a bursting, jagged and fragmenting pattern.

  He could see so clearly how much more damage it would inflict not only to the outside of the Martial Artist’s body but also to the inside. Roy’s mouth twitched as he realized the implications. He needed to test this, but he still hadn’t gathered enough Qi to run a real test. Still, that was fine. More and more people were entering the arena, exercising and practicing, which generated more Power Essence for him to pull in.

  It was easy to do so passively while running through techniques in his mind. It was a strange experience, just like everything else had been since advancing, but one for which he was immensely grateful. His mind turned to the next technique, the Shockwave.

  His movement technique had been one of the hardest to learn. It worked by rapidly increasing the flow of Essence through his channels, enforcing his muscles and wrapping his body in enough power to give him the boost he needed. Not only that, but small bursts of Essence would escape the soles of his feet when he really needed to pour on the speed, and from that, he could see where his Qi technique could take him.

  Before Roy could begin to fully visualize the technique in his mind, a shadow fell across his face. Opening his eyes, Roy squinted up, seeing Marrie standing there, looking bored.

  “Mind if I sit down?” she asked.

  Roy shrugged, gesturing to the ground next to him. Now that his eyes were open, he could see that the arena was full of people. There were well over a hundred Martial Artists ranging from Green all the way up to Purple, which he found to be astonishing. The Inu clan must have been powerful indeed if they’d managed to lock up Purple-Belts. Then again, now that he was outside the Crater, he was beginning to see that Blue was about the standard.

  Most people made it to some point in the Blue stage, while Green-Belts seemed reserved for most teenagers and young adults. For him to be considered average, Roy would now need to be at least Base Blue, while, for someone like Marrie, a girl who was likely around fourteen, she was way ahead of the curve.

  Purple was far less common, although it was still not completely rare. It was only once people started to get around 7th Dan that the numbers seriously began dwindling. Red-Belts were rare, and those who reached that point seemed to earn a lot of respect. Gold was even rarer, and Roy had only seen a handful of people with the shining Belts. After that, came Brown, of which he’d only ever seen on Hermit before he’d advanced to Gray.

  He now knew that after Gray came Black. Supposedly, there were only four of those in all of Safaia, the continent on which they lived. He didn’t know much about them, but he suspected that Hermit did.

  “You daydream a lot,” Marrie said, snapping him from his thoughts.

  “Sorry,” Roy replied, feeling a bit sheepish. “I tend to get lost in thought.”

  The girl didn’t turn to look at him, instead pulling her knees up to her chest and keeping her gaze locked outward.

  “I didn’t want to talk about this in the cells, as there’s too much of a chance of being overheard,” she said. “By now, I’m sure you already know that I’m from one of the Seven Great Clans. It was pretty hard to hide that from the others, especially when the announcer uses my full name every time I’m thrown out there.”

  Roy wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but he just nodded in agreement. She hadn’t had to fight since he arrived, but he had been told of her clan affiliation.

  “Well, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m being thrown out to fight instead of being held hostage.”

  Roy nodded once
more, although this conversation was not at all what he’d been expecting.

  “I assume it’s for the same reason as you,” she said, finally turning to look at him. “You were exiled from the Herald clan, just like I was!”

  21

  Doragon sat in a tavern in Gorgetown, a small Inu outpost near the edge of the Windblight. He’d been trying to pick up on Roy’s trail for nearly a week by now but so far had had no luck. He sipped at the small clay cup, which was filled with strong spirits, and reveled in the burning sensation as it traveled down his throat. Liquor – at least, of this strength – was one of the few pleasures he still had in life. Right now, it was something he’d been in great need of.

  His hunt for the Sovereign’s son had been going poorly, and he was sure Herald Duncan was growing impatient. He’d have been able to sense the activation of the Gatestone, but when neither he nor his son had appeared, he was sure to have reacted badly. Doragon knew that his life now hinged on finding the boy, but in a vast desert like this, it was like looking for a specific grain of sand.

  The Windblight stretched for thousands of miles and was so vast and sprawling that it could take years to even hear news of the Herald boy. Still, he didn’t dare give up. The Sovereign’s son was in more danger than he knew, and even if the Inu hadn’t picked him up, others of the Herald clan would be on the hunt. Despite his appearance and the way he’d grabbed him, Doragon was probably one of the only ones who was actually on his side.

  As an outsider adopted into the clan, he owed complete loyalty to the Sovereign. However, the other factions in the clan wanted to keep their power to themselves. Sure, the likelihood of Duncan dying was low, but if he did, none of them wanted his son to take his place. The next in line, Herald Ria, would not take kindly to threats of her power, and Sages rarely failed to get what they wanted.

  There was always the chance that upon advancing to Black-Belt and joining the ranks of the Scions that Herald Duncan would abdicate his seat of power. No one understood the ways of the Scions but the four that were known tended to stay out of worldly affairs and politics, only appearing when they were really needed.

  In his mind, Doragon couldn’t think of a more selfish thing to do, although he wouldn’t dare say so out loud. A Scion could hear him cursing them from wherever they were and strike him dead where he sat. And as he’d previously established, Doragon very much wanted to keep living.

  “Another?” the bartender, an Inu with a protruding gut and a 3rd Dan Blue-Belt, asked.

  Doragon nodded wordlessly, dropping a few more silver ginka on the counter. The bartender made the coins vanish, then refilled his cup.

  It was an exorbitant price to pay for liquor, but out here in the Windblight, it wasn’t exactly easy to procure. It was the same reason that fresh meat was monstrously expensive in Mountain Moore, while wheat, corn, and barley were sold for almost nothing. Supply and demand were prevalent, no matter where one went in the world.

  The door behind him opened, and Doragon peered back to see another Inu clan member enter the bar. This man was different. The way he carried himself, for one, told of someone who was important or at least thought they were. The Belt around his waist told a story of someone who might one day make it to Red, perhaps Gold, but his foundation was already beginning to tremble under the weight of his advancement.

  Doragon was about to return his attention to the clay cup before him when he noticed something peculiar. The man took a quick look around the room, then headed over to a table on the far side of the room, sitting down across from another man without an invitation. While most people ignored this, Doragon had worked as a spy for far too long to simply dismiss this as a man joining his friend for some food.

  For one, the first man had been sitting there for well over an hour, ensuring he became part of the landscape and was easily ignored. He was dressed in nondescript clothing as well, which meant he wasn’t part of the Inu clan. While this wasn’t completely uncommon, the way the man was acting was enough to pique his interest.

  Turning back to his cup, Doragon concentrated on the far side of the room, digging into his nature to enhance his hearing to try and see if his hunch was correct.

  “Are you sure you weren’t followed?” the Inu man asked in a hushed tone.

  “Speak normally,” the other man replied. “And stop leaning over as though we’re conspirators. The fastest way to be noticed is to act as though you have something to hide.”

  The Inu man scoffed, though, by the shifting sounds coming from the other side of the room, it was clear he was relaxing. Doragon hid a smile. While the previous man was a professional, the Inu man was most definitely not. And, since the word conspirator had come up, it was clear that something shady was going on here.

  “Did you find out what I wanted to know?” the Inu man finally asked.

  “Payment upfront,” the other man replied.

  The Inu man scoffed.

  “The Sage of Dust said…”

  “Words don’t fill my belly,” the man said, cutting him off. “Money talks, nothing else.”

  Doragon could practically hear the Inu man’s teeth grinding together, but a moment later, the sound of clinking coins reached his ears.

  “There, you have your money. Now talk,” the Inu man said, sounding more than a little annoyed.

  “I’ve heard rumors,” the man said. “Whispers from the Herald clan that the Sovereign might be looking for someone. But that’s all I’ve heard.”

  “That’s it?” the Inu man asked, nearly shouting in anger. “I paid you a literal fortune to dig this information up for me, and this is all you’re going to give me?”

  “I said I’d find what I could,” the man replied, much more calmly. “Crossing the Herald clan is risky business, and even getting that little scrap of information nearly cost me an arm – literally. Our business here is concluded. I’ll be taking my leave.”

  There was a snap, and Doragon could hear the rustling of cloth as the Inu man tightened his grip on the other’s arm.

  “The Inu clan is also not one to cross,” the Inu man hissed. “In case you’ve forgotten, we run things in the Windblight, and the Sage of Dust will have his answers!”

  “Unless you want everyone here to know that you were asking for information on a Sovereign’s son who happens to be in the custody of your clan, I’d recommend releasing me,” the man said, still calm as ever.

  Doragon did turn now, half-peering over his shoulder to see the two men standing close, the Inu man’s hand tightening around the wrist of the other. After a few more tense moments, the Inu man released it, although he was obviously not happy about it. The other man didn’t say a word, simply heading to the door and leaving without making a fuss.

  No one had noticed what had happened, which spoke volumes to the skill and professionalism of the other man. Still, thanks to the Inu’s blunder, Doragon now had a very strong lead to follow. It seemed that the Inu clan did indeed have Leroy, and if they were asking around about him, it seemed that they either knew who he was or suspected his identity.

  The Heralds did have a very distinct look outside of Mountain Moore. Their complexions were usually far lighter than those of the other citizens of Safaia, and their much bulkier build tended to set them apart immediately. Still, the connection that he was the son of a Sovereign could only have come from the boy himself. It would make retrieving him much harder, especially if the Inu believed they had the son of a Sovereign in their grasp. Still, Doragon had managed to snatch him from under the noses of the entire Itachi clan. All he had to do was follow this man back to where he’d come from, and he would be back on track.

  For the first time since losing Herald Leroy, Doragon allowed himself a small smile. Things were finally going his way, and if everything worked out in his favor, this would only be a small hiccup on his way to complete the Sovereign’s mission.

  ***

  Itachi Ikari stood in her meeting room, arms clasped behind her back and
Darkness Reiki pouring off her in waves. Before her knelt the only survivors from the group she’d sent after her brother, and the news they had reported was not good. Not only had she lost over a dozen powerful fighters, but her brother had absorbed the Cavern Beast’s Core.

  Worse, Violet, the brightest prodigy their clan had produced since she’d been born, had joined his side. And apparently, the man who’d entered into the Trials of Water had emerged and managed to escape with her. He’d also done some things that no one had thought possible, leaving Ikari with an extremely bitter taste in her mouth.

  In one fell swoop, her brother had robbed the clan of nearly half its military might, stolen her only chance of advancing to Black-Belt, and had also stolen two talented fighters to boot. To say that she was angry would have been a gross understatement.

  Her Reiki radiated out of her in waves, forcing everyone in attendance to their knees. The wrath of a Sovereign was so powerful that no one here could hope to withstand it, and although Ikari wanted nothing more than to lash out in anger, she knew that she couldn’t afford to. Her clan had already been weakened far too much, first from the attack of the Cavern Beast and then by her brother.

  Ever since his return, her clan had gone downhill, and now, he’d officially gone too far. There was no point in sending others out after him, as he was too strong for anyone. Anyone but Ikari, that was. For as long as they’d lived, she had always been the stronger of the two, and in their little reunion, she’d once again proved herself to be more powerful.

  She was a 5th Dan Gray-Belt, while he was only at 1st. Sure, the Cavern Beast Core would have given him a boost, but she doubted it could have made all that much difference in the short amount of time that had passed. Normally, she wouldn’t risk leaving her seat of power, but after the insult her brother had dealt her, Ikari knew she had no choice.