Death Cultivator

by eden Hudson

  I looked down at the hand. “There’s another mummy here under some fallen rocks.”

  With the ring in my hand, I climbed back down to the twins.

  “Did you guys hear any of that whispering or see that skull?”

  They both shook their heads.

  “It sounds like a seal.” Rali leaned on his walking stick. “High-level cultivators used to put them on their tombs so they couldn’t be raided by anyone unworthy.”

  “Yeah, in fantasy stories,” Kest scoffed.

  I held up the ring. “Well, whatever it was, here’s what it wanted me to take.”

  They leaned in for a closer look.

  Rali hmmed. “Are you still enhancing your sight?”

  “Oh right.” I took a second to focus on sending Spirit to my eyes, then looked at the ring again.

  A bright silvery light cone was blasting straight out of the ring and into the ceiling. Except, the more I looked at it, the more it seemed like the light wasn’t blasting out of the ring as much as it was being sucked into it.

  “That’s awesome,” I said. “So, what is it?”

  “Another Celestial supertype,” Kest said, absently tapping her lips. “Some sort of mass compression or manipulation, probably worked using Black Hole Spirit.”

  Rali rolled his eyes, then looked at me. “In case you were wondering what that translates to in plain Universal speak, it’s a space ring.”

  “That’s not really something I understand either, man.”

  “You put stuff in it,” he said. “Doesn’t matter what size or weight or how much.”

  “Space rings are mythical nonsense made up by people who don’t understand artificery,” Kest said. “This is a mass-manipulating Spirit construct with specific limitations and uses, similar to what Naph uses to transport goods, not a magic infinite pocket dimension.”

  “The floating skull called it a casket ring,” I said.

  Rali shivered like an overexcited puppy. “Just like in the old sword legends!”

  I grinned at what a dork he was being. “So, how do we open it?”

  “In the stories, you press it to your forehead to see the contents and call whatever you want from inside,” Rali said.

  Kest looked doubtful. “There’s probably a way to activate the script, if you can find it.”

  “Yeah, there’s no script on this thing,” I said, turning the ring over in my hand. Even with Ki-sight, I couldn’t find anything but that silvery light cone. “We’re going with the storybook method.”

  I put the ring on and held it to my forehead.

  Images bombarded my brain—robes, shoes, a heavy-looking curved sword, a paper fan, two wooden flutes, a bunch of sealed clay jars, some thin green jade rectangles, full Spirit stones, and a tiny grinning skull the size of my thumbnail carved out of what looked like turquoise.

  I concentrated on the little skull.

  “Um...skull stone?” Hopefully, the ring had a search-engine-style attitude about the names of the items.

  A cold misshapen little marble formed in the palm of my empty hand.

  There were two sharp gasps, then the scraping sounds of Kest and Rali both taking a step back.

  “What?” I took the ring away from my forehead so I could see my surroundings again.

  “For a second...” Kest trailed off, frowning.

  “Your face and neck and arms were a skeleton,” Rali said. “Or maybe it was superimposed on your skin.” He cocked his head, squinting. “Your insides lit up and made your bones into shadows? One of those.”

  “Maybe it had something to do with this guy.” I held up the grinning skull, pinched between my thumb and index finger. “It was inside the ring.”

  Before they had to remind me, I sent Spirit to my eyes and checked the skull out with Ki-sight. Thin smoke trails of Miasma were creeping down the tunnel and getting sucked through its teeth.

  “Holy cow.” I slipped between Kest and Rali and headed back toward the mummies. The streams of Miasma flowing into the skull’s mouth got thicker. “A Spirit vacuum?”

  When I looked over my shoulder at the twins, they were staring at me.

  “What are you talking about?” Kest asked. “There’s no such thing as a Spirit vacuum.”

  “Obviously there’s something like it,” I said, holding up the little skull. “This guy is sucking down Miasma like there’s no tomorrow.”

  Rali cocked his head. “And you can see it?”

  “Can’t you guys?” I looked from him to Kest. “Do you have your Ki-sight on?”

  That made Rali laugh. “Sorry. Yeah, we have Ki-sight on. Everybody does, all the time.”

  But Kest wasn’t laughing.

  “I...” She faltered, then put her nose in her HUD. “This requires some research.”

  “So, is it eating the Spirit or storing the Spirit for later?” Rali asked.

  I looked down at the skull’s crooked grin.

  “Maybe it’s like the ring?” I pressed the skull to my forehead.

  A cold, crackling frost ran along my bones and covered my Spirit sea with ice before dipping a single finger like a fast-forming icicle into the Spirit gathered there.

  Hungry Ghost accepts Death cultivator, said a small croaky voice in my head. Sends greetings.

  Hi, I thought at it after a second. Your name is Hungry Ghost?

  Hungry Ghost sends Death cultivator apparatus specifications.

  Like with the storage ring, images and information suddenly flooded into my brain, but this was more like a cutscene from a video game than an inventory.

  In life, Hungry Ghost had been a powerful ancient cultivator of Mortal Spirit, desiring power more than anything else. No matter how much Spirit it got, it had never been satisfied. Millennia after its death, Hungry Ghost was still consuming all the Mortal Spirit it could, but as punishment for its lifetime of greed, now it could only gather Spirit for someone else.

  Left alone, Hungry Ghost would gather Mortal Spirit from its surroundings unseen by anybody but its accepted master. When its master wanted to use the stored Spirit, they had to touch Hungry Ghost with some part of their skin and ask for it to give up what it had gathered. The master should be careful, however, because Hungry Ghost wouldn’t try to regulate how much Spirit it sent in response, it would just vomit it all up at once, and that could burst the banks of the Spirit rivers and seas in a less advanced cultivator.

  What would happen to the cultivator? I asked.

  Hungry Ghost sent me a feeling like a shrug. Death cultivator may live. Death cultivator may die. Hungry Ghost may become two Hungry Ghosts.

  How do I keep you from sending too much?

  A glowing outline of a guy appeared in my head, holding Hungry Ghost in his fist. He called out to the skull, asking it to give up the Spirit it had consumed. Glowing energy flowed into the guy, filling his outline up like a rain gauge. When it reached the top, he told Hungry Ghost that was enough, and Hungry Ghost stopped.

  So, don’t get greedy, I thought.

  Death cultivator comprehends the lesson of the Hungry Ghost, it croaked.

  I took a deep breath and focused on the Spirit in my body, both in the sea and what was flowing through the rivers, regulating my internal alchemy.

  Then I asked Hungry Ghost, Would you please give me some of the Death Spirit you have?

  A flash of angry reluctance shot through my brain like a hot tent stake. Then it disappeared, and Spirit gushed down the fingers and part of my forehead touching Hungry Ghost. Like, a sarcastic amount of Spirit. Sort of like if you asked for a small glass of water and someone turned a firehose on you. It felt great, though. The last of the regret from the Spirit transfer faded along with the nagging hunger in my gut. Suddenly, I felt like I could punch a hole through a concrete wall or axe kick a truck in half.

  That was the trick. Feeling like you could crush the world with one fist made you want the Spirit to keep flowing. I knew I should stop, but it was crazy hard to make myself. I had to rip
the words out of my organs one at a time and fork them over.

  That’s enough, I told Hungry Ghost. Stop.

  There was a flash of disappointment from the tiny skull, then a much bigger flash on my end as the Spirit cut off. I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t ask Hungry Ghost to send me some more.

  Thanks, I told it, even though in my head the word sounded more frustrated than grateful.

  Resentful silence from Hungry Ghost.

  Obviously, getting used to Hungry Ghost was going to be a process.

  I took the little skull away from my head and gave Rali and Kest the rundown.

  Rali was stoked about it. “It’s just like the old sword epics! You found a cultivator’s tomb, and his magical treasures accepted you as their new master!”

  “There’s nothing about Hungry Ghosts or Spirit-gathering apparatuses on the hyperweb,” Kest said, frowning.

  Instead of arguing, I opened my stats on the Winchester, then turned my wrist toward Kest so she could see the results.

  “Four thousand nine hundred and eleven?”

  “I was at zero a minute ago,” I said. A little voice in my head told me I could’ve been at way higher if I hadn’t stopped Hungry Ghost, but I ignored it. Mostly.

  The lace in Kest’s eyes narrowed.

  “Anything that powerful is dangerous,” she said, going back to her HUD. “There has to be something about it somewhere.”

  “I just have to keep it under control and not draw too much Spirit at one time,” I said. “That’s the dangerous part.”

  She shook her head without looking up. “That can’t be the only danger. It’s too simple.”

  Actually, it was perfect. I would have Spirit ready for training tomorrow, so I wouldn’t need to borrow any more Spirit stones from the Bailiff. When training was over, I’d make sure to put just enough in the tank for the quota, the fifteen percent commission, and to pay back the Spirit stones he’d spotted me. Then after the transfer, I would refill my Spirit sea. The Bailiff’s commission would be at its bare minimum when it was taken out, and I would still get to eat.

  But right then I was full of more Spirit than I’d ever had before. It seemed like a shame to just use it on regulating my internal alchemy.

  I turned to the twins. “Are you guys tired?”

  Rali looked at Kest. “You scavenged all day.”

  “Metal never tires,” she said, still searching her HUD. “It’s the unrelenting element.”

  “That’s not true, but I accept your determined nature.” He grinned at me. “We’re good to go a few more miles before we close our eyes. What did you have in mind?”

  “I need to know more about kishotenketsu. How much can you teach me before morning?”

  Mr. Champion and the Martial Devil

  WE SPENT THE NIGHT working on the basic Ki-level abilities like enhancing sight, speed, and strength. When I started to get that, Rali announced that we needed some hot food if we didn’t want to waste away like the mummies. Nothing sounded better to me in the world than eating, but I didn’t want them to know I still hadn’t had anything, so while Rali went back to town, I stuck around and trained with Kest.

  “If you’re going to be fighting the OSS’s hooligans, then you really need to work on reinforcing your skin and bones,” Kest said. She took something out of her pocket and slipped it onto her hand. It was like a glove made of chains, each chain connecting wide rings on her fingers to a thick metal cuff around her wrist. “Send a portion of your Spirit to harden your skin.”

  A little at a time, I sent Spirit to my skin. My body turned cold and heavy, so I amped up the internal alchemy.

  “Don’t try to counteract it too much,” she said. “Try to find a point just before the balance tips where you can maintain your internal structures without killing yourself but where your skin won’t let me pierce it.”

  “Wait, what? Pierce it?”

  She turned her body sideways and threw her braceleted hand out, fingers pointed at me. A pointy weight at the end of a chain shot at my chest.

  I sidestepped and knocked it away with a forearm.

  Kest swung the pointy weight back into the palm of her hand and caught it.

  “You do realize we’re trying to toughen your skin, not work on your speed? It’s going to have to hit you.”

  I frowned. “I spent all night blocking and dodging stuff. It gets to be a habit.”

  She rolled her lacy eyes, then grabbed my arm and stabbed my palm with the pointy end of the weight.

  I hissed and jerked my hand away. Blood dripped onto the floor of the tunnel.

  “Now, try it again, reinforcing your skin with Spirit,” she said.

  I sent Spirit cycling through the top layer of my skin like an electrical current. With Ki-sight on, it looked like I was glowing a little. My complexion was slightly less tan and a slightly more blue-green, anyway.

  After a second, Kest nodded, then picked my arm back up.

  My brain picked that second to realize that I was standing so close to her that hairs sticking out of her left messy bun kept tickling my face. Shirtless, alone with a cute girl, and no shower for like three days. I clamped my arms down to my sides and hoped she hadn’t noticed the smell yet.

  She stuck me again.

  “Ouch.” Blood welled up in a new spot.

  Kest looked up at me. “Your reinforcement didn’t work at all. Focus.”

  Cool, so she didn’t even notice that we were standing super close to each other’s faces. That was fine. I edged back a little and concentrated on reinforcing my skin.

  This time when she stabbed me, I said “ow,” but as I said it, I also realized that I’d mostly said it because I expected the puncture to hurt. Except the truth was it hadn’t hurt as much as the first two.

  She studied the most recent stab wound.

  “It’s not as deep as before.” She held it up for me to look at. “Just the tip got through.”

  “Awesome.” It wasn’t even bleeding as much as my other wounds.

  “Keep going, let’s try it again.”

  We worked on reinforcement until I could keep the tip of her pointy weight from poking a hole in my skin while standing still, then we stepped back and tried it on the move again. That was a lot harder.

  By the time Rali got back, I had a bunch of new holes in my chest and arms.

  Kest frowned. “Well, even the smallest amount of progress is still progress. I guess.”

  “You had a bad teacher, Hake.” Rali tossed us both a couple big pieces of heavy flat bread. “She started you out at the hardest thing to protect against. It’s a lot easier to toughen your body against blunt-force attacks.”

  “Blunt force is a waste of energy,” Kest said. “If you have to go through something, a single reinforced point is much faster and more efficient than a blow distributed over a wider area.”

  I wasn’t really listening. I was too busy wolfing down that bread. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted, and the second it hit my stomach, energy poured into my muscles, sharpened my blurring vision, and even cleared some of the sleepiness out of my brain. It felt like I’d just chugged an energy drink.

  “Dang, man.” I looked at Rali. “What did you put in this?”

  “That’s a little Ten move I came up with this morning. I’m probably going to call it Sage Rali’s All-Nighter Erasing Breakfast. Basically, I put some of my Spirit into the cooking.”

  Kest rolled her eyes. “I’m not calling you Sage.”

  Seeing my bread was gone, Rali frisbeed me another piece.

  “I might.” I downed that one in no time, too. “What’s your Spirit type if it works on food? Because the other day, I’m pretty sure you fed me a flour ball full of Spirit, too.”

  “Warm Heart Spirit,” Rali said. “It’s a specialization of a specialization, and it is delicious.”

  “All-Nighter Erasing is nothing a Coffee Drank can’t do,” Kest said.

  Rali rolled his eyes. “This is way better f
or you. Those drinks are full of impurities.”

  I glanced up at the lightening sky through the hole in the mine’s ceiling. Blue sunup was on its way.

  “Guys, I need to get back to town,” I said. “See if I can’t use any of these Ki abilities under pressure and not get my butt handed to me this time.”

  We gathered up the loot and Kest’s bag and dropped it all in the storage ring. All that weight immediately disappeared. That was epically handy, considering Kest had stored what felt like a ton of cinnabar in her bag.

  “You should keep the storage ring,” I told Kest. “I don’t have anything to store, and it’ll be hard to explain where I got a ring from if anyone in the OSS notices I didn’t have one yesterday.”

  “I am not keeping the most valuable thing we found down here,” she said.

  “No, you’re keeping the ring and everything in it.” I held up Hungry Ghost. “I’m keeping the most valuable thing we found down here.”

  Both twins wanted to fight me on that, so in the interest of getting back to town on time, I agreed to split the loot down the middle. They would keep the ring and all the cinnabar Kest had mined, and I would keep Hungry Ghost, then we’d split the money Kest got for selling everything else.

  Then I could pay her back for the Winchester—I didn’t say out loud.

  We headed back to Ghost Town, splitting off at the outskirts and going our separate ways. I stopped off at the boneyard, used Hungry Ghost to refill my Spirit sea, then hid the little skull under a broken tombstone. A quick check with Ki-sight showed the Miasma hanging around the graves creeping toward the skull’s hiding place.

  “Happy Spirit-eating,” I told it, then headed for the saloon.

  The blue sun was just starting to come up when I made it to the fight cage. The Bailiff and the three bruisers from the day before were already warming up and talking. Warcry didn’t show up until I’d already been there for ten minutes doing speed exercises with the Bailiff.

  “Well, if Sleep-in Sally didn’t grace us with her presence,” the Bailiff cooed as the redhead walked up. The giant ghostly hands started a sarcastic slow-clap.

  Warcry’s lip curled up in a sneer.