Silver Fox & The Western Hero: Warrior Redeemed: A LitRPG/Wuxian Novel - Book 5

by M. H. Johnson

  He didn’t just know it, he felt it in his blood.

  Suddenly overwhelmed by a profound spiritual connection to every building, every chamber, every palatial suite of bedrooms, studies, saunas, and adjoining servant’s rooms within the vast complex, including the trio of elegant dining halls available to all the guests and the magnificent library at the heart of his palace, containing every book he had ever touched or read, in physical or digital format, and they had all been transcribed to masterworks of leather and vellum. And for all that most of the fine hardwood shelves were still empty, it was only a matter of time, he thought, before he filled them all.

  Even now he could sense the shadowy chamber within the heart of that magnificent library holding a copy of every Silver and Gold tome he thought cruel fate had forever torn free of his grip with the mocking laughter of the gods, and he sensed as well the many scores of cultivation manuals that had once made up part of the library Lady Jidihu herself had claimed. He had touched just the tiniest fraction of her library when he had first ported it in his copper ring before giving it back to her, but even that modest collection of books, perfectly copied from the originals that he had touched, might be a priceless boon to him in the months to come.

  Yet he couldn’t help flashing a cynic’s smile, knowing he couldn’t dare enter the library and crack open a single book.

  Not yet.

  Not until he had finally made it to Baidushi proper and foiled just one of the twisted cards spiteful gods had slammed upon the token of his soul locked upon the board of a game played by divine powers who cared very little for the mortal pawns they toyed with.

  Should he even glance at a single tome from Jidihu’s collection, Alex knew his divine enemies would eagerly embrace that opportunity to declare her guilty of giving him aid on his way to Baidushi, before dooming every living kitsune with Fate card-sanctioned genocidal persecution.

  But the moment Alex made it to Baidushi, the moment he set foot within its boundaries, he would have met the strictures tied to that particular Fate card, and his enemy’s doom would now work against them, all of them forbidden to strike at kitsune, Ruidian, native citizen, or their races as a whole, out of simple spite for daring to help Alex.

  So, no library, he thought to himself, though he couldn’t help but gaze in slack-jawed awe as he approached the front entrance of the magnificent edifice he had dreamed into being, the golden front doors soaring so high that they crested above his old master’s rooftop.

  But what shook Alex even more than this wonder he had somehow forged whole-cloth out of nothing, were the pair of men kitted in full Warring States regalia, saluting him with fangtian jis in their left hands, fists banging their chests in unison.

  Neither said a word, yet Alex could sense their almost fanatic devotion to him.

  They gazed at him as if he were their lord and master.

  No, he realized, a chill coursing down his spine as he gazed into the eyes of his honor guard.

  He was looking at men who viewed him as their god.

  What the hell had he just done?

  Then he blinked as the massive golden doors comprising the central palace entrance opened, revealing a harried-looking man dressed in robes and boots of finest silk interwoven with threads of silver and gold, wearing a small square hat clipped to the top knot upon his head with pins of jade.

  He all but stumbled down the red carpeted stairs before kowtowing at the feet of a bemused Alex.

  “The lowly Seneschal Dong Xiao greets the Child of the Heavens, lord and master of this realm!” The man said in a trembling gush. “Come, master. Please allow this unworthy one to lead you to your quarters. Your divine guest awaits!”

  Alex blinked at this, a bemused smile tugging at his lips.

  “Relax, Dong Xiao. A bow of the head is fine. No need to get your fine silken robes dirty on my account.”

  The man paled and swallowed, before nodding in frantic agreement.

  “Of course, Your Grace. Of course! Please, this way, Your Grace. I fear our divine guest is a man of limited patience.”

  Alex allowed himself to be led along corridors tiled in gold-veined obsidian, hallways lined with lacquered tables displaying artfully arranged flowers or priceless knickknacks of precious metals and jade. Upon the walls were magnificent murals, tapestries, and woodcarvings depicting alternating scenes of vast panoramic landscapes painted with breathtaking accuracy so exquisite he almost felt like he could reach out his tentative fingers and brush the tops of countless giant redwoods, leaves blowing in an unseen breeze. Or perhaps leave footprints in the pristine white snow upon a mountaintop masterfully depicted in the masterwork before him, complete with a shimmering temple of ivory and gold just visible through the wintery haze in the first golden shafts of light emanating from the newly-risen sun.

  Alex couldn’t help but shake his head in bemused wonder as he continued down the corridor before abruptly jerking to a stop, eyes drawn to the flash of bright yellow hair depicted in the corner of one tapestry underneath the exquisitely detailed helm worn by one of many warriors wielding naginatas or fangtian ji.

  His heart lurched in his chest as he gazed into the furious countenance of one of the very few Ruidians portrayed on that ancient battlefield.

  Wearing a face identical to his own.

  “Master? Is aught amiss?”

  But Alex paid the concerned seneschal no mind, his hawk-like gaze now going over each mural he had passed so far, eventually spotting his face in every one.

  Which made no sense at all.

  He didn’t recognize a single one of the scenes portrayed along this vast, seemingly endless corridor.

  Until suddenly he did.

  Chills raced down his spine when he beheld the glowering countenance of the demonic abomination glaring such hate the instant Alex erupted in pristine heavenly light, after jumping through a rift between worlds into a demonic realm portrayed with such visceral detail in the massive mural before him, countless scores of demons flinching from the light searing them to ash even as a pair of mortals gazed upon Alex’s final blaze of glory from the portal entrance just beyond the rift.

  Alex tore his gaze away, suddenly dizzy.

  Because that gloriously noble and incredibly stupid act should have been the end of his tale.

  Yet somehow, he was here, in one piece, having survived a one-way trip into Hell.

  Yet all he had to do was continue walking along the corridor to see the continuation of his tale; being beaten to a pulp in the Dragon Academy arena, and further down, the bittersweet vengeance he had savored, defeating Lai Wei and his corrupt uncle Lai Leng who had done everything they could to make his stay at the academy a nightmare, having no idea how Alex seemed to thrive on conflict and hardship like dull metal forged into a killing blade in the crucible of his enemy’s hate.

  Each tapestry’s depictions became ever wilder and more surreal, from crashing into his foes in a storm of lightning and fire he was sure hadn’t actually happened, to piercing the heart of a massive saber-toothed predator in dungeons so deep they were literal purgatory, and he had fallen straight into the underworld.

  Before fleeing for his life as the guardian serpent of the dead sought his destruction.

  And on and on the murals told his tale, Alex growing ever more powerful, ever darker, until he was eventually radiating a black corona of killing energies and wings of ebony darkness, boldly striding the waters of the dead that even gods feared approaching, looking just like a being out of nightmare. Yet the golden halo surrounding him was also unmistakable by the time he was shown tearing free the heart of the serpent god Shui Jun and consuming it, taking on the power and potency of a deity before finally surrendering his prize in return for the World Seed hosting this very hallway, displaying his wild adventures in such impossible detail.

  Which made absolutely no sense at all. He had neither hellish wings nor heavenly halo. The Card of Cleaved Fates assured he was inured to karma’s curses or bles
sings, and this was his final life in any case, so, in the most cynical sense, it really didn’t matter what he did.

  At this point, he cared nothing for karma. His own moral code was more than enough of a burden for him to bear, feeling the weight of countless millions of souls who would perish in water or flame if he didn’t do whatever the hell it was he needed to do in Baidushi. And of course neither his allies nor enemies would give him the slightest hint as to what exactly that was.

  And it was only when the nervous seneschal finally led him to a stop before massive twin doors of pristine jade with a flood of golden dragons etched upon their priceless surfaces that Alex froze, no longer able to deny the significance of the hundreds of murals he had passed before finally recognizing the start of his own tale.

  At least one of the faces in each those exquisite murals of bloody battles, noble gambits, wonderful vistas, or humble farming communities in outposts of bucolic splendor had always been his own.

  He understood what it meant. The only thing it could possibly mean.

  “Master, we are here.”

  But Alex paid the seneschal no mind. Not even when the grand doors of jade opened and he caught sight of the magnificent chambers beyond, as well as the bemused countenance of the man Alex thought of as mentor and friend as much as he did powerful deity of chaos and change.

  “Ah, there you are, Alex!” declared a cheerful-looking WiFu, raising up his chalice as if in salute or commendation, but Alex had already turned away.

  Heart clenched in his chest as he raced back down the hallway.

  Desperate to find that which he dreaded seeing most of all, a cowardly part of his mind hoping he would find nothing...

  …and then he saw it.

  A picture that took his breath away.

  There he was. A slightly younger, more innocent version of himself smiling so raptly as he clasped the hand of a demurely smiling kitsune woman wearing a silken wedding dress, her father dressed in the tricorn hat and dark uniform of an inspector by her side.

  WiFu’s bemused twinkling smile coming alive so perfectly, mirrored by the kitsune girl whose hauntingly beautiful features Alex knew so well.

  WiFu’s second daughter. Alex’s first wife in a life lived over a thousand years ago.

  Alex closed his eyes tight to bitter tears, already knowing the scene of fire and tragedy the next mural would hold.

  He choked back a sob when he felt a powerful arm sympathetically pat his shoulders.

  “Come, Little Fox. Free your heart of burdens that are not yours to bear. There are things we need to discuss, and we don’t have much time.”

  Alex choked back a sob. “How many lives have I lived? How many loves have I lost?”

  WiFu sighed, gazing up at the arched dome ceiling high above. “That’s a difficult question to answer, Alex. You’re a young man of nineteen summers with his whole life ahead of him. You’re the reincarnated spirit of my second daughter’s first and only husband, the man she loved until the malice of man and my brothers’ treachery took her forever away from me.”

  Piercing jade eyes fastened upon Alex’s own. “And you’re the first newly risen in countless millennia, and the only deity I know that dares to walk upon the Waters of Oblivion, for all that you’re so fragile that even a Silver could lay you low.”

  Alex stumbled at those words. “Newly risen? What are you talking about?”

  WiFu winked, gently settling Alex on an exquisitely comfortable leather stuffed chair, before ringing a tiny silver bell. In an eyeblink, it seemed, half a dozen female servitors entered with solemn bows, rolling in a food cart filled with such delicacies that Alex’s eyes widened with wonder.

  Filled as it was with perfectly prepared steaks and rib roasts, omelets and crepes covered in lingonberry sauce, with a fruit salad that looked exactly like the one his mom used to delight in making with just a hint of brandy, a lifetime ago.

  To say nothing of the bowls of freshly made ice cream and sorbets, creme brule, New York and Japanese style cheesecakes, and a dozen other pastries and exotic treats he had never expected to see in this life or any other.

  Within seconds, the entire spread was placed on the magnificent table Alex now found himself sitting at, across from WiFu, himself grinning at the sumptuous feast now before them, pouring them both flutes of champagne before tinking his glass against the one he had placed in Alex’s stunned hands.

  “WiFu, what’s going on?”

  Silver Fox smiled, a single nod causing all the demurely waiting servitors to kowtow in unison and slowly back away. Alex tore his eyes from the repast before him long enough to register just how striking in appearance they all were, possessing high cheekbones, soulful eyes, delicate lips, and flawless features. They were beyond beautiful, dressed in matching uniforms that were an odd fusion of French maid and demure geisha. Before Alex could say a word, they had slipped away in a cloud of glittering silk like sparkling mirages, with final bows to deity and lord.

  WiFu took a thoughtful sip of his champagne. “By all means, eat, Alex.” He flashed a bemused smile. “Well do I recall the gamer you still imagine yourself to be. Best you eat up and get what buffs you can before making use of your bed for the best six hours sleep of your life. And how many days has it been since you actually slept? Too many, I imagine.”

  Alex flushed at that. “Well, yes, but I’ve sort of been constantly fighting for my life and... wait, WiFu, what’s this about my being newly risen?”

  WiFu’s gaze peered so deeply into Alex’s own that he could all but sense his mentor getting a critical success with his Soul Sight skill.

  The fox deity chuckled softly. “Something like that, Alex. And let me answer your question with one of my own. Where are we now?”

  Alex grinned. “That’s easy. We’re in the heart of your ring...”

  WiFu gave a firm shake of his head. “No, Alex. This isn’t my ring.”

  Alex felt himself falling into those terrible eyes of jade and silver.

  “It’s your own. Do you understand, Alex? This isn’t my World Seed. It’s your own.”

  Alex’s champagne flute remained untouched. His heart was pounding. “Alright. What exactly do we mean by World Seed?”

  WiFu chuckled softly. “I cannot tell you the shouts of alarm and outrage that rang through my family’s eternal palace upon the emergence of yet another plane of existence, suddenly popping up right next to our own.”

  Alex swallowed. “Will you please tell me what you’re talking about?”

  “Storing things in it is fine. But of course even my brothers could have warned you that only a madman or a fool would dare to use a compression ring before they were deep into Gold.”

  Alex swallowed. “WiFu...”

  “Because of course it’s impossible for any mortal to catalyze a new realm of their own. Though I will tell you, my clever Little Fox, that it’s not unheard of for the most daring of Jade Emperors striding our world to forge themselves in the greatest of all crucibles, compressing their former Gold cores against impossible pressures, until Gold slowly transforms to Jade and even Jade hardens to an impossible degree before those Emperors at last surrender their prize to me once more, a taste of their soul a small price to pay for the glory of deepest transcendence.”

  Alex swallowed. “Wait. That ring... it was once the property of a Jade Emperor?”

  WiFu nodded “Emperors and Jade Queens, rare as those are, trading whatever power they might achieve in their future lives for absolute transcendence in this one. And considering all the tens of thousands of years they might live as pieces upon the Board of Fate, I can’t gainsay their choice.”

  Alex gazed down in wonder at the ring he wore, now a priceless artifact of deepest jade, for all that it showed as worthless brass in the outer world. Here, its true value couldn’t be hidden.

  It was the ring of a ruler.

  The ring of a god.

  “WiFu? I still don’t understand.”

  His mentor
sighed. “They compressed their cores to unheard of degrees, ascending in ways beyond belief. Because, of course, it’s impossible for any mortal to forge a fresh realm out of the quantum flux of the multiverse.”

  Alex frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “The library was fine. Even the palace, within reason, was doable. But were you not warned that above all else, not until you had achieved the heights of Gold countless centuries from now, were you to try to forge a world for your palace to stand upon? That to dare such madness before deepest Gold was tantamount to suicide? That no mortal could possibly hope to forge a realm of their own? All one could do was compress their core of Gold and, at best, break through to Jade?”

  “World?”

  “The garden, Alex! Forty feet in diameter or countless miles in circumference. The heart of your world seed!”

  Alex blinked, then clenched his teeth. “No, Silver Fox. As a matter of fact, not one word of caution was given. If anything, a certain deity encouraged me to have a blast with it!”

  WiFu frowned, tilting his head thoughtfully, then burst out in a beatific grin. “Why, Alex, I do believe you’re right! I guess that warning sort of slipped my mind.” He shrugged. “Oh, well. All’s well that ends well, I suppose.” He flashed a cheeky smile, taking a long sip of his champagne.

  “WiFu!”

  His mentor’s gaze hardened, all frivolity instantly vanished.

  “You forged a realm out of nothing, Alex. You laugh in the face of death and wade hip deep in the Waters of Oblivion like it’s your own private lake. Hell, you even forged your Water Walking perk into a feat that actually gives you bonuses to that impossible bit of madness!” WiFu chuckled. “And let’s not forget, in the realm where every other deity is at his weakest, you are at your deadliest even as you laugh in the face of gods so hungry for your soul.

  “You have warped an already-forbidden technique into one that allows you to channel the Waters of Oblivion, even in the realm of the living, perilous as that gambit is. A gambit few gods would dare. A gambit that should instantly tear any cultivator below Jade free of his mortal coil. And when you dare to channel the full potency of your gift in the realm of the dead, why, all you have to do is look at your own mural to see what comes of that bit of madness.”