by Charles Dean
“What are you aiming for, boy? Your little magic tricks won’t save you,” Ed said as he flung the whip out again.
This time, however, Lars didn’t have to move much to dodge it. The man’s aim wasn’t perfect anymore. Is the steam already that thick? Lars wondered, but he didn’t stop what he was doing, filling the room with more and more of the vapor. He could feel the hot steam practically searing his own skin as it started to completely cloud his vision.
Great, so he can’t see you that well, but you can’t see him well either. What’s the plan now?
It was a good question. Lars didn’t know what would happen if he kept filling the room with steam, but he knew that it was already a little hard to breathe from the way he had to actually try to take in air, and the steam was getting thicker and thicker.
He just needs to talk . . . Lars began carefully creeping across the floor in the general direction of where his opponent was.
“This won’t stop me from killing you, boy!” he heard the man shout again before a loud crack behind him, near where he had been when making the steam earlier, sounded out. When Lars heard the whip crack, he didn’t hesitate, rushing in the direction of his enemy as fast as he could even though he knew his heavy footsteps would give him away. He didn’t think he had much time to act before Ed was prepared again, weapon ready, and would know exactly where he was.
The plan, if it could be called that, was successful as Lars slammed shoulder-first into the giant wall of flesh that was Ed. Even though he was the one attacking, he felt like he was the one taking damage. His bottom teeth smashed against his top row, his face flattened against flesh, his shoulder smushed, and his ribs compressed.
What the hell is this guy made of? Lars cursed as the two of them toppled to the floor.
It’s worse than I expected. He has a lot higher Resistance and Fortitude than a normal Stage 4 Qi-Gathering Cultivator. We’re in trouble.
Ed grabbed onto Lars as he fell, holding tightly onto the cuff of the robe Lars had gotten from Matthew’s home as they toppled. This left Lars on his side, trying to squirm backward but unable, his robe tearing but not fast enough.
“You’re not getting away now, you tailless bastard!” Ed threatened, yanking Lars closer and pulling back his own head at the same time.
Headbutt! He’s going for a headbutt! Lars thought, desperately trying to come up with anything he could do. He was too close though to avoid it, and while he could try to counter it, the man’s durability far exceeded his own. There was no way he could win a skull-bashing war with a stone wall.
It was at this point that Lars spotted Ed’s wrist and had an idea. Lars reached out and grabbed at the protective bracelet with both hands and channeled fire that seared and crisped his own flesh. He yanked as hard as he could, pushing against Ed with his knees as well to generate every ounce of force possible.
“NO, YOU DON’T!” Ed yelled as he threw his head forward with as much might as he could probably muster, but just before it hit, Lars’s plan worked. The bracelet snapped, and Ed ineptly smashed his face into Lars’s.
Without the Fortitude, Resistance, or Power of a cultivator, but the force of the blow still rocketing his face into Lars’s, Ed was unable to handle the impact. His face smushed and then exploded against Lars’s forehead as little nuggets of skull, large splashes of blood, and slimy, jelly-like pieces of brain splattered everywhere—especially onto Lars.
Lars did his best to wipe the gore off with both hands, feeling like he was rubbing it into his face more than actually removing it, and then he began to sit up. The steam was still thick, and he was immersed in the thick, swampy, hot air that stung his skin with pricks of fire as he stood up. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel good.
That’s right, Lars thought as he looked over at the body, watching the massive strands of purple, green, and brown Qi leaving Ed and pouring into his body.
He could feel the familiar cool breeze from the wind element and the warmth from the stat points, but now he could sense something new that he hadn’t before. It was hard to grasp exactly what the joy he was experiencing felt like. It was almost as if he were immovable—an un-eroding stone standing against the waves of time. The joy was both more tangible and more difficult to describe than anything he had previously experienced.
Congratulations. You have successfully killed Ed. You have gained 83 stat points. Your elemental affinity with Wind Qi has increased by 31. Your elemental affinity with Earth Qi has increased by 45.
“God, that feels good . . .” Lars couldn’t help but say as he basked in the warming sensation that coursed through his body. He didn’t know why, but the moment after it faded, he really wanted to murder someone again just to feel it once more.
Holy crap! That was hilarious! I mean, the fight was tough—good job or whatever—but did you see the way that first guy, Nuj, had his head explode when you Knife Handed the back of it?! I almost died laughing. It was like you had smashed a watermelon open with a mallet. I thought that was the end of it, but nope. NOPE! BOOM! The dude had a face-off with you . . . literally! Oh, man. This is priceless. I mean, you’re going to need at least two more baths and a thorough scrub with a steel brush to get that crap off of you, but this is just . . . Wow! Did you see that? Did you see the way his skull collapsed onto yours, his brains flying out in all directions? This is . . . This is great. I’m so happy. I gotta admit I never thought we’d get such a good day as this. I thought that, at most, I’d get a back rub and a little to eat and that I’d be stuck listening to you pout about why you can’t just murder hobo a whole town. This . . . This, though . . . Totally worth it. Hahaha, so great.
Speak for yourself. My face . . . Lars continued scrubbing while doing his best to wash off with the help of his Water Qi.
That’s not coming out of your clothes, you know.
Yeah . . . I know, Lars grumbled. The robes he was wearing were white, “were” being the operative word in Lars’s head. He sighed. Small droplets of steam clung to his face as he did his best to take a deep breath, despite how thick the air was, and calm down. Deep breath. Count to ten. Lars tried to follow the advice his mother had always given him about what to do when the stress and frustration from being bullied mounted up too greatly. In this case, he wasn’t frustrated, but he did need to center his mind as the anxiety from the fight coupled with the joy of the kill kept twisting his emotions into a whirlpool of confusion.
After a moment, he realized that he couldn’t see anything at all. The steam had choked out the last light from the torch while he was doing his breathing exercise, and he was now stuck in a dark room. He channeled fire from one hand and wind from the other, but instead of using the wind to enhance the fire this time, the fire was just meant to light up the room. He looked for one of the wall torches, grabbed it, relit it, and held it up in his left hand.
No one is here now. Let’s go farming. There are 31 little Qi factories of differing quantities in there, and I think it’s time we open the treasure chest we just found.
You’re a little too happy about this, Lars grumbled. Though . . . from the list of crimes to their names, I can’t say I’m going to feel bad killing a bunch of rapists and murderers.
You know, you’re a murderer too . . .
Quiet, Lars hushed her.
Just don’t make it hurt. Killing should be done quickly and painlessly if possible. Think of it like killing a chicken. You kill the chicken because you have to eat, and that’s just the way life works. But if you torture the animal or force it to suffer, then you’re just an evil jerk who deserves the axe himself.
Right . . . right . . . Lars took comfort in the fact that the voice in his head had morals of a sort, even when dealing with the most vile of society. I have to make it quick, and I shouldn’t torture them . . . Lars took a deep breath, thinking about how he was going to accomplish both of those.
You could just open the door and start punching them to death . . . but then if one gets free, you’r
e going to be in trouble.
That’s right. I would . . . Lars nodded, and then he had an idea. “So,” Lars said as he turned to face the people stuck behind the large bars, who had been watching his interaction with the guards carefully. “Which one of you guys hates the king?”
Only a little over half of them raised their hands.
“Good. Then you guys, my fellow antimonarchist compatriots, will be freed. Our group needs capable fighters, trouble starters, and miscreants to assist in our rebellion,” he lied.
“You mean . . . you’re not here just to use us as alchemy experiments?” one of them asked as Lars fiddled with the keys on one of the guards.
“Gods, no, but I do need you all to do something . . .” Lars said, grabbing a waterskin off Ed’s belt and holding it in his right hand.
“What’s that?” one of them asked as he came to the gate.
“Drink up while I go find where the rations are kept. It’s going to be a long journey out of the city, and I can’t have you getting too weak and dying on me halfway.” He smiled as he spoke and then tossed the waterskin he had just silently and secretly tampered with to the nearest prisoner. “Take a gulp and pass it around, and . . . do you know where they keep the food?”
“No,” the prisoner replied. “I haven’t been past that door since entering. None of us have.” He then took a large swig of the water and passed it to the guy next to him.
The effect was instant as soon as the water hit the back of his throat, but Lars was happy that it wasn’t noticeable to the others as the second, third, and fourth person did exactly the same thing, taking a large gulp and passing it on. They must have been so thirsty and desperate for water, dehydrated by the cruel guards, that their eyes didn’t leave the waterskin. They trusted that the water was safe since it was Ed’s, so they continued to drink and pass, gulping hungrily from it. The first person slouched forward against the bars, and the second fell over onto the ground, dead on the spot. By that time, however, the waterskin had already reached the eleventh person.
“What the . . .? What the hell?!” the person who was supposed to get the waterskin next exclaimed as he looked at the guy holding it. He was already clutching his throat and struggling to breathe.
“Yeah . . . sorry about that,” Lars said. “It was either death by poison, as quick and painless as I can make it, or I’m going to burn you all alive. I just figured this was easier.”
“You monster,” one of them growled. But for at least eleven others, it was too late. Thanks to Lars’s Toxin Qi affinity of 32, the poison was killing them on the spot as they began to collapse one after the other.
A much more manageable number to handle. Well done.
He heard the voice enter his head as dozens of strands of Qi varying in color began to pour out of his victims and into his body. He had just reaped 407 more stat points and a ton more elemental affinity points.
He took all 407 of the stat points he had just gotten from the now-dead prisoners, as well as the 83 he had just gotten from Ed, and put them all into Speed, boosting it to 581 and increasing his movement speed to the point where he had absolute confidence no one would be able to slip by him as he did what he was about to do.
I’ll make it quick and painless for you, Lars thought to his master as he opened the door with the keys. He failed not to smile as the orgasmically intense ecstasy from the strands of Qi entering him broke his attempt at a cool and collected facade.
It only took a few moments before Lars had finished them all off, striking each one quickly and cleanly in the face, throat, or back if they tried to run. By the time he was done, his eyes were wide, his smile was ear to ear and carved in stone across his face, and he was panting from the excitement.
“So good . . . Soo freaking good . . .” Lars muttered, the words escaping his mouth even though no one was around to hear them. “Gods, it feels so amazing . . .” Then a thought crossed his mind that dampened but failed to kill his buzz: I want to feel like this more. I want more of it. Lars shook his head. No. That’s not . . . who I am. I’m doing this to save my mother. My mother.
Chapter 6
Name: Lars
Level: 2
Power: 160
Speed: 581
Fortitude (HP): 40
Resistance: 40
Unspent: 868
Elemental Abilities
Wind Qi: 270
Earth Qi: 152
Ice Qi: 144
Fire Qi: 143
Water Qi: 115
Metal Qi: 49
Toxin Qi: 32
Wood Qi: 16
Unassigned Qi: 15
Abilities
[10] Advanced Reading Level 2 [2,145/2,000,000 Words Read]
[10] Knife Hand Level 2 [1/10 Unaware Combatants Killed]
[20] Toxin Immunity Level 4 [1/10 Toxins Consumed]
[N/A] Unyielding Ice Veins [No Level]
[N/A] Flame of the Pill God Level 3
Item Skill Progressions
Enslavement [1/5 People Enslaved]
Wood, metal, and earth. Lars noted the new Qi as he looked through his stat sheet. Every person he killed dropped an elemental Qi, sometimes two. One had even dropped three. As far as Lars could tell, the amount of elemental Qi was about one fourth to half of the total stat points he would get from the kill. The exact amount varied, but that seemed to be roughly what he could expect. As a result, his wind Qi, which was the most common one he had run into, was now at 270 after killing so many people. Most of the others were in the 100s, from earth at 152 down to water at 115, and the two newest ones he received near the tail end of his slaughter of the prisoners, wood and metal, were at 16 and 49 respectively. The only type of Qi that had been completely unchanged by the entire encounter was toxin, which remained at 32 since no one had even a single touch of the essence.
Toxin is an incredibly rare element for a person to have unless they derive their Qi-gathering ability from the blood of a beast that is naturally venomous or poisonous. You’ll need to find someone with snake or maybe wasp blood in them.
People cultivate insect blood? Lars had never heard of this at all. He had run into a lot of cultivators in his life, and for the most part, they all had basic beast bloodlines. There weren’t even hybrids. As with Matthew, the kids of cultivators only inherited a single parent’s beast lineage, not both or a combination. A dog made a dog, and a cow made a cow. It was a coin toss if a child of the two would be like Matthew or would have the tail of a cow, but any tail would either be fluffy, or it wouldn’t. There was no mixing. It was an unheard-of concept. Lars had just assumed that that level of certainty applied to the fact that they only had beast blood, not insect blood too.
There are even part-fish cultivators. During the beginning of humanity’s fall, before the great wars, men scrambled to look for any living thing that they could siphon Qi from—anything that they could twist and butcher and cling to for power. It didn’t matter if it was a snail, a rabbit, an insect . . . or even a tree. They took in everything. Those from the Forbidden Capital of the Dark Elements were especially fond of venomous creatures. They clung to centipedes, scorpions, beetles, and wasps.
That’s . . . so gross. Lars shuddered as he did his best not to imagine what physical signs a centipede cultivator would display.
They’re all gross. They’re all abominations. Every single cultivator. They wear the skins of beasts and try to defy the order of things, going against Mo— the system.
This is a real hot issue for you, isn’t it? Lars asked, feeling her contempt once again. It was odd. He was used to his own emotions affecting his senses a little—narrowing his vision and pumping adrenaline through his veins—but he wasn’t used to hers impacting him. However, as she spoke, it felt like the walls on all sides, the floor, and the ceiling began to shrink in on him. Her cold anger was suffocating as it spilled over into his head. If you really hate cultivators so much—he dared to continue even though it felt like he was stepping across uncertain
land, where any foot might land him in quicksand—then . . . why do you always push me to hook up with one? Why do you press me to be social? To—and I hate saying it since it sounds so wrong—ask for a blowie in the back from the town hos?
Their practice, cultivation, is an abomination that destroyed humanity. Life isn’t. Life is beautiful. It’s amazing. It’s the best thing there is. Five senses to feel joy, and humanity still found a way to feel even more with a thousand different emotions that swirl, collide, explode, and bottle up within them. Life is great. People are great. It’s just they need to die eventually too. They can’t defy the order of the system. Cultivating—that’s where the wickedness first began. That’s the one thing I’ll never allow you to do.
I wish you had made that clearer before I wasted so much time trying . . . Lars sighed, remembering how hopeful he was every minute of every hour he had worked toward saving up for Tao’s book.
Yeah, that book is actually a treasure trove. He’s a genius at that monstrous stuff. And before you even ask, since I can already feel the question rattling inside your head, I am teaching your friends cultivation, but I’m not helping them become immortal. I’m just helping you sharpen some of the weapons at your disposal.
I see . . . Lars nodded. He was a little disappointed though. Whatever. He gave up on the conversation and went to Nuj’s body instead. Nuj had 5 gold pieces and 2 silver pieces on him, raising Lars’s wealth from 33 silver coins to 5 gold coins and 35 silver ones. He then searched Ed’s belt, where he found another 7 gold pieces and 5 silver pieces. He also made sure to take the convenient pouch that Ed had been storing his stuff in along with the whip he had used against Lars.
