Immortal Swordslinger 4

by Dante King

  I assumed a sparring posture and beckoned to him. “Why not?”

  “You got a lot of guts. I can’t think of the last time we sparred seriously without weapons. You sure you want to do this?”

  “Ah, come on. You’re big and slow. You won’t even be able to catch me.”

  “All right, you asked for it!”

  The Spirit of the Wildfire flared through his fur, but the familiar orange flame took on a blue tinge as he swung a bunker-busting punch toward my chest. Cool Vigor flowed through my water channels as I sidestepped the blow. I landed a pinpoint-accurate punch on his lower ribs, but he barely flinched. He swung out with a backhand. I kept up the pulse of speed-based Physical Augmentation, ducked the punch, and slid through his pillar-like legs. I cartwheeled away from a stomping kick that shook the floor.

  Kegohr grinned as he surged forward, wound up a huge right hand, and threw it straight at my face. I switched my Physical channels from water to fire as his basketball-sized fist slammed into my palm like an artillery shell, sending a shockwave through my whole skeleton. Blue and orange fire washed over our hands as we both fought each other’s strength. But my new Augmentation protected me from the blow, and pure force rippled out from the impact.

  “Such strength!” Nydarth crowed. “Such power! An ember grown into an inferno.”

  “The ripple has become a tidal wave!” Yono added.

  “A tremor an earthquake?” Chosi said, unsure.

  Kegohr’s jaw dropped as I grabbed hold of his wrist with a crushing grip. I jammed his arm with my shoulder, spun into him, and torqued my hips into his. He yelped as I threw him over me like a sack of potatoes and slammed him into the ground. The smooth floor rumbled at the impact.

  I put a foot on his chest. “Seems I’m the better—”

  I was cut off when a blue nova of fire blasted out from him, a new way of using his Spirit of the Wildfire. The area-of-effect attack tossed me through the air like an empty packet of candy. I rotated as I shot toward the altar, activated Flight, and caught myself in mid-air. Kegohr jumped to his feet, spun, and shook his head in amazement as I lowered my feet back to the floor.

  “Damn,” he said. “You’re much stronger now.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t detonate like a grenade. What you did was incredible. And the Spirit of the Wildfire changed color. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

  Kegohr shrugged, a little embarrassed. “Apparently, it’s all about using less to get more.”

  “So, it’s not about the size but about how you use it?” Mahrai cut in.

  I glanced to the left and saw Kumi, Faryn, and Mahrai beside one of the pillars. They must have entered the hall while we were sparring, unnoticed by me.

  I embraced the three women, kissing each in turn. Twenty-three days without speaking to them had seemed like forever.

  “Such good, strong partners,” Nydarth said in my mind. “None can match me, of course. Nevertheless, it has been too long since you have lain with any of them, Master. You should take one of them tonight. Perhaps two at a time.”

  I smiled as I pushed Nydarth back into the murkier parts of my mind.

  “How’s training?” I asked the women aloud.

  “Not as good as yours, apparently,” Mahrai said. “They haven’t taught me how to fly.”

  “You’re not a fire Augmenter,” Faryn reminded her gently.

  “Doesn’t stop me being jealous,” Mahrai said with a scowl.

  “What have the monks taught you?” I asked Mahrai.

  “How to change earth channels to fortify my skin.” She shrugged. “I guess it works, because I started to block swords with my bare hands yesterday. My teacher used real blades this time. I might have been cut to pieces were it not for Kumi. She helped me understand how Physical Augmenting is all about control.”

  Kumi blushed and touched her shoulder. “She’s being humble, dear husband.”

  “And what about you?” I asked. “Any modifications to the Song of the Sea?”

  “Perhaps a few bars here and there,” Kumi replied with a wink. “I’ll be sure to show you when the need arises.”

  “Well, the monks are certainly doing what Xilarion asked them to,” I said. “We’re growing stronger every day we stay here.”

  “Then why do I get the feeling you’re itching for some action?” Mahrai asked slyly.

  I raised an eyebrow at her. “Maybe I’m not used to sitting still.”

  “Well, it’s not that hard to make you if I keep my mouth in just the right place—”

  “Ethan, will you take a walk with me?” Faryn interrupted.

  I mouthed ‘later’ to Mahrai and nodded at the elf master. “Sure.”

  Faryn led me out of the hall and into a side corridor. But instead of heading right, we turned left and started up a long, twisting staircase. Transparent window banners washed the stairwell in red and yellow hues. I took the opportunity to catch my breath as we stepped higher and higher into the monastery. Halfway up the tower, a door opened onto a rooftop garden.

  My breath was taken away. “Well, this is nice.”

  Black pavestones joined small rivers of white pebbles in a meandering pathway through a series of waist-high plants. Each shrub was trimmed to perfection, without a single leaf out of place. There were flowerbeds, rows of herbs, and even a pristine vegetable garden. Three main shrines stood around us, each dedicated to a different spirit. Incense streamed off the altars, and banners snapped in the mountain breeze above them.

  I followed Faryn to a carved bench of stone. Vigor hummed in the surrounding air as I sat beside her.

  “Wanted to get me all to yourself?” I asked.

  Faryn kissed me softly and shook her head. “As tempting as that is, no. I have something else I wish to show you. Something that you haven’t seen before.”

  “Well, color me interested.”

  She smiled contentedly, reached under the bench, and handed me a small pouch. Glass rattled as I opened the drawstring mouth and reached inside. A small glass bottle, filled with a blood-red liquid, caught the light as I lifted it out of the leather.

  “Is this thimbleleaf tea?” I asked. “Did the monks let you take it?”

  “I brewed it myself,” Faryn said. “From plants in this very garden. The monks grow everything an herbalist could dream of here.” She waved a hand over the gardens, and her face lit up in a radiant smile. “So, I’ve put together some potions for you, to aid in your recovery and help with your training.”

  I took a closer look at the potion. Silver flecks danced within a scarlet liquid that pulsed with a life of its own. It had an arcane beauty to it, and I knew that a single sip would recharge my entire Vigor store in a matter of seconds. It was a much stronger brew than what we ate with the monks to restore our Vigor, and it looked like it contained more than just thimbleleaf. The potion brought Hamon to my mind, and I realized that I hadn’t seen him at Radiant Dragon.

  “What happened to Hamon?” I asked. “I remember you told me that he was at the guild house, and Xilarion was finding a way to cure him. But I didn’t hear a word about him when we all got back.”

  “I believe Guildmaster Xilarion had it done quietly before you returned,” Faryn said. “He moved Hamon out to Wysaro Castle, and he’s been there ever since. A reminder to the clan of what happens when they allow evil to fester within their people.”

  “I’m amazed he’s still alive. Everything Tymo says seems to point to the fact that if you push too much Vigor into your physical form, it should vaporize you.” I recalled Hamon’s fury-twisted face as he screamed curses and tried to beat me into a pulp. “But he managed to stay alive. Tough bastard.”

  “He managed to stay alive with Guildmaster Xilarion’s help,” Faryn reminded me. “There will come a time when you reach the guildmaster’s level of power, Ethan, and you may very well have to make the same decision he did. To slay a dangerous enemy, or to spare his life.”

  “Depends on the enemy,” I said
with a wry smile.

  “If Mahrai is any indication, you’ll have no problem sparing an enemy who is both female and conflicted,” Faryn said with a lilting laugh. “Come, let’s rejoin the others. I wouldn’t want to give them the wrong impression, after all.”

  “What wrong impression?” I asked, feigning innocence.

  “Perhaps the impression that we came up here for any other reason than to share the bountiful fruits of nature. Keep the potions. I have a feeling you may need them sooner rather than later.”

  I hefted the small bag over my shoulder and followed Faryn’s sashaying hips back down the flight of stairs and into the main hall.

  I spent the next few hours reconnecting with my friends. We discussed the finer points of technique, the potential applications of Physical Augmentation, and just how far we’d managed to rise above our past selves.

  The gong for dinner sounded through the main hall, and we settled down at our usual place across from the monks, who said their wordless prayer and immediately began to eat. The Hierophant, as usual, was absent.

  “Swordslinger,” Tymo said with a curt nod of his head.

  I looked up from my food, hiding a flash of apprehension. Tymo didn’t typically use my title unless something was deadly serious. I swallowed a mouthful of rice, laid down my chopsticks, and leaned forward to meet his gaze.

  “Yes?”

  “The Hierophant debates the spirits and deciphers their portents as quickly as he can. But he will remain in meditation for some time, and a pressing matter hangs over our heads in the meantime.”

  “Is this to do with your missing brothers?” I asked.

  We still hadn’t figured out what had happened to the monks who were no longer at the monastery, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. My friends and I had dug around as best we could, but we’d agreed not to explicitly ask the monks about those who were missing until the right moment presented itself. And that moment was now.

  Tymo jerked as if I’d slapped him. “Yes. How did you come to know of the lost brothers?”

  Mahrai shot me a gleeful grin, and I fought to keep a smile off my own face. “The monastery is obviously meant to house a good deal more monks. I take it you’ve sent them out, and they haven’t returned.”

  “Indeed. Your deductive reasoning continues to serve you well, honored guests.” Tymo bowed to us again. “If I could spare any of my brothers, I would, but it is our duty to tend to the monastery and protect our Hierophant. And to teach you, of course.”

  “We could help find them.”

  “As long as you are subtle and do not arouse any suspicion that something may be amiss,” Tymo said. “Which it most certainly is not, mind you. I believe the monks may simply be lost. It has been some time since any one of us has ventured from the monastery, you see.”

  I glanced at my friends. Kumi and Faryn were my best bet for subtlety. Mahrai’s raw power was an enormous advantage to have on my side, but her Greater Stone Golem didn’t exactly scream subtlety. Kegohr and Vesma were skilled fire Augmenters, but that came with its own disadvantages. If it came to a fight, then roaring tempests of flame wouldn’t help us keep a low profile, either.

  “Kumi and Faryn, will you join me?” I asked.

  “But of course, husband,” Kumi replied warmly. “It would be my pleasure.”

  “I’d gladly take the opportunity to see the woods again,” Faryn added. “So, yes.”

  Tymo nodded, obviously pleased by my choice. “We will continue to train the others in your absence, Swordslinger. And have no fear, your own training will resume when you return with our brothers.”

  An itch spiked between my shoulders as I considered the possibility that I was getting split up from my team for a more nefarious purpose. But as I looked over Kegohr, Mahrai, and Vesma, I knew that they could handle themselves. Kegohr grinned encouragingly at me while Vesma whispered assurances to Mahrai. Mahrai herself muttered a curse but nodded and offered me a terse smile.

  “Be careful,” she mouthed.

  Tymo hadn’t given me any reason to distrust him. It was likely an internal conflict from within the monk’s ranks. The more I thought about it, the more I was inclined to believe that. Tymo had been placed in charge of our training, but he was also the second-in-command of the monastery. If the monks were indeed absent, then he would be expected to arrange their return.

  And who better to do it than his budding student? Completing this mission successfully would undoubtedly raise Tymo’s standing with the other monks.

  “We’ll set out first thing tomorrow,” I said before turning back to Tymo. “What’s the situation?”

  “Twelve of our brothers were sent out on duties to restore the shrines and temples throughout Flametongue Valley,” Tymo said.

  “Only 12?” I asked. “This monastery can house 10 times that number.”

  Tymo’s beard twitched. “They were due to return a few days ago,” he answered, avoiding my question, “but they haven’t sent word back or informed us of their movements.”

  I figured more than 12 were missing, or there were multiple cases of “The Missing Monks.”

  “Where was the last place you directed them to visit?” I asked.

  Tymo chewed his cheek before answering, “A long-forgotten place of worship on the outskirts of Wysaro City. A place known to the locals as the Unwashed Temple.”

  So, it seemed Tolin was involved with the Dying Sun monks. Rather than ask Tymo whether he knew of Tolin, I remained silent. I would get the opportunity tomorrow when I visited my old mentor.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, a simple farmer’s tunic, trousers, a cloak, and boots sat outside my door. I recalled Tymo’s insistence on anonymity and was thankful for the new clothes. I was a familiar face in Flametongue Valley, especially after the fight against the Wysaro Clan, not to mention my recent bouts in the exhibition matches. These clothes would help hide my identity.

  As much as leaving my Immense Blades behind might mean receiving less attention from anyone who saw me, I couldn’t leave them behind. The roughspun cloak I’d been given would hide them a little. I arranged the trident and the warhammer in my harness and strapped it to my chest. I cinched the belt with the scabbarded Sundered Heart around my waist and left the cells as quietly as I could. Kegohr’s snores echoed through the corridor, and I softened my footsteps until I found my way into the main hall.

  Kumi and Faryn joined me a moment later. The peasant clothing they were wearing didn’t detract from their beauty. Faryn’s farmer garb spun over her form and hugged her curves, while Kumi had stripped away the belly of the tunic, fastened the rest of it into a bodice, and sliced her skirts up to mid-thigh to give her the freedom of movement she was accustomed to.

  Even in disguise, they looked like a million bucks.

  Tymo appeared from a side door and beckoned us over to the monastery’s front doors. He handed me a map with familiar landmarks, and I glanced over it with interest. It was identical to the one Xilarion had given us. A new path had been marked into the mountain range though, one that cut across the Vigorous Zone and led to the Unwashed Temple.

  “I appreciate your concession to a less remarkable set of clothes,” he said to us. “The less the people of Flametongue know of the disturbance to our order, the better. I will make sure to mention your obedience to the Hierophant when he returns from his meditative journey.”

  “Anything you want us to relay to your missing brothers?” Kumi asked.

  “Simply urge them to return home to their order,” Tymo said quickly. “Their dedication to their vows and their adherence to the Wandering Path should be sufficient to bring them back. I assume they’ve become absorbed with some task or another. It shouldn’t take much to have them return.” He bowed to us before extending his arm toward the doors.

  I pushed them open.

  Tymo bowed to us, and we entered the mountaintop Vigorous Zone a few minutes later, but there was no sign of spinedrakes above
us. Nor could I spot any other creature that would give us cores.

  Kumi glanced up at the sky and shivered. “I feel like they’re still out here, watching us.”

  “They’re likely nocturnal predators,” Faryn assured her. “Black scales help them blend into the dark. In the daylight, they’d be easy to spot and escape from.”

  Kumi sighed deeply in relief. “Thank the gods.”

  I bumped her shoulder playfully. “Afraid of a little action?”

  “I’ll be happier when I can dip my toes into a river or waterfall,” she said. “It’s dry and hot up here, with barely a spring or stream in sight. It’s a wonder that the monks even have anything to drink.”

  “They use a well,” Faryn said. “A monk showed it to me. It’s how they keep their gardens alive and see to the needs of their bodies. Truly an astonishing place, the monastery. And it’s all the more impressive that they managed to stay hidden for so long.”

  “I’ll have to ask them about the well later,” Kumi mused. “Could be a rather relaxing spot for a bath, wouldn’t you say, husband?”

  “In their drinking water?” I laughed. “I don’t think the monks would appreciate that. But there’s bound to be a bath large enough for the both of us in the monastery somewhere. We could revisit our last time bathing together.”

  “Without the monster attack, of course.”

  “Of course,” I said with a smile.

  Faryn consulted the map. “There’s a sharp path down here that should carry us most of the way into the foothills. From there, it looks as if you’ll get your wish, Kumi. We’ll be following a river to the outskirts of Wysaro City.”

  Kumi’s face brightened at the mention of the river.

  I took in the scenery as we descended the narrow mountain path over the next few hours. The massive expanse of Danibo Forest below us was like an ocean of leaves. Sunlight sparkled as it touched the twisting rivers carved into the valley floor below.

  Faryn and Kumi made small talk as we headed downward, leaving me some space to think. The fact that the monks’ last stop was at the Unwashed Temple was too large of a coincidence for my liking. The filthy structure marked the starting point of my journey in the Seven Realms. Tolin’s tutelage was the reason that I’d met Faryn in the first place. The old hermit had even given me a letter of recommendation to Xilarion, who had inducted me into the Radiant Dragon Guild and their ways.