4. The Devil of Sha'Kath

"You must not eat the blood of any sort of flesh,

because the soul of every sort of flesh is its blood.

Anyone eating it will be cut off."

- Great Father Ever Righteous.

Mother Luneil, the most useless of all rocks, lorded over the sky. The haze rolling down the peaks shrouded the forest's undergrowth, screeching with the anguish of spirits long dead.

Niva ripped her qi hardened nails across her skin, drew blood, released an amount of ichor that would've seen a mortal dead within seconds, and formed her spear. A barbed coil ran the length of its body like a snake, the tip of the weapon gleaming in Luneil's reflective radiance before being hidden by the canopy of the trees.

A week had passed, and Niva found her days pretty much written in stone. She spent her mornings meditating under the guidance of Elder Yonyue. Elder Kiri's combat lessons filled her afternoons, leaving only the evenings to test her luck on the mountain with Dino or pursue her personal goals, such as searching for the key. Her expectations of finding it today were low, though.

To stop disciples from being stupid, the sect marked the different parts of the mountains and woodlands. There were five regions in total: green, yellow, red, violet, and black. An unawakened cultivator could forage inside the green zone where the occasional predatory creature roamed. The yellow zones were for late-Gron, or the physical equivalent and up, and red (where she currently trudged through) was primarily for those well into the Skin realm, which meant most disciples wouldn't reach this place until the end of the year.

At the moment, the higher-tiered sectors weren't feasible for her, and her guess was that the key was somewhere in the black reaches.

Still, she wasn't blindly scavenging. Sect Points were a valuable resource since they allowed you to purchase anything from arts and mentor ships from older disciples to spirit stones. Locations of treasure sites were also an option.

After spending enough currency to cause a knot in her stomach, she found out there was a cave system near the western edge of the peaks where an older disciple had spotted a deep crimson —almost black— flower. They had never seen anything like it. But multiple qi signatures of early second-stage creatures appearing the moment they got closer forced them to return empty-handed. The missive also pointed out they had seen a door they believed led further down where fumes of blood essence wafted through the sides.

That's what sold Niva. Blood-based cultivation sites were rare. Exceedingly so. Most formed around areas where much bloodshed had happened, like the heart of a battlefield. The Problem was that those expanses were often revitalized afterwards or placed under restrictions to respect the dead. Thus, most qi sites featuring blood were artificial, often made using sacrificial rituals forbidden by the Empire. So, finding a natural cultivation haven of the sort would spell great fortune. But fortune was begotten by power.

The sect blessed potential and scourged the weak. Air had started to thin twenty ticks of the clock's minute hand ago, and now her breaths came in ragged puffs. Only circulating her essence allowed her to go on. That could become a problem if she ran low on energy fighting inside the cavern. She clenched her hands, gripping her weapon tighter. Shadows flicked by the corner of her vision more and more often. But two emerald orbs darting through the woods, promising a painful death, kept the predators at bay.

"Search for an abandoned rope vanishing into the dark on the left side," she muttered the words from the missive when she spotted the crevasse hiding the entrance.

There it was.

Knowing what she was searching for made it easier to spot, but she didn't think she would've found it had she not known beforehand. A very faint outline of a brown cord, fastened with a stake poking a meter out of the ground, drifted on the cold winds of the mountaintop.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She shuffled forward, making her way around the extremity of the chasm, lest she fell down the unending abyss. She reached the rope and looked down. Visibility was already bad enough yet to lower down into the dark nothingness...it spoke volumes of the lengths and risks disciples were willing to go to in their quest for treasures, and Niva's respect for the older student that had sold her the information increased. After checking the stability of the oversized nail, she followed in the footsteps of the daring.

Tense minutes passed as she slid down the cable. The rope gnawed and burned on the skin of her hands, powered by her Sisal physique, yet it didn't bother her nearly as much as the encroaching blackness did. She considered calling on her armour but decided against it since the extra weight may interfere with her descent.

Just as she couldn't see anything anymore, her feet touched a hard surface. One hand still on the rope, she produced a lantern from her storage ring and confirmed the ridge underneath her. She let go, letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding when the ground didn't sink from under her, finally allowing herself to take in the entrance.

This far down, it amounted to nothing more than a gaping maw whispering of untold secrets. Her lamp barely illuminated enough to see the ceiling, and she donned her protection.

The armour the higher-ups in the main branch had sent her was enchanted, allowing her to meld and reform pieces of it when broken in battle. It covered all of her body, leaving only two holes for her eyes. It was a costly affair, though. There's no way she would be able to use the scripted features before harvesting from slain enemies.

Qi cycled through the meridians branching toward her eyes, and she activated her Blood Gaze art. Normal lighting would go a long way, but she needed more than that if she was going to make it through the cavern in one piece. Being greedy for essence at this juncture would cost her; she would levy the toll from her enemies instead.

She just hoped any enemies weren't using some high-tier stealth art to snuff her but doubted that would be the case. This place was concealed as well as could be for an opportunity in the red zone. How much more hiding could an inhabitant need?

A lot.

She winced at how her footsteps echoed in the cylindrically shaped tunnel now that she had beefed up. She'd make a trip to the archives to remedy that. Later. There was a divide in the path coming up. She reached for her necklace, and her fingers brushed against her plate. Right. Couldn't do that.

As far as she recalled, though, the message didn't mention any diverging roads near the beginning. Had things changed?

There was the familiar scent of blood coming from both pathways. The right one smelled more...innocent, more inviting. The blood was spilt deliberately and carefully instead of in the left junction, which was more chaotic and brutal. She stalked down the right-hand path. Left was most likely a setup for an ambush, whereas this one was a place where blood flowed naturally. As natural as a flow of blood can be, she supposed.

Sometime later, she spotted figures on the cavern walls at the edge of her dome of light, which separated her from the ever-deepening dark around her. Drawings. Her spearhead moved along the first sequence of illustrations. They told some sort of story:

A group of bipedal animals walking the surface, harvesting healthy crops in the hue of the morning sun and singing and dancing around a bastion of fire under the moon's light. They prescribed their good fortune to a singular goddess. Although it was worn by time, Niva could sense the depiction of said deity had been done with the utmost care. Traces of qi still lingered around its edges. Moreover, though a hood covered most of its face, glistening, voluminous hair attested to her otherworldly nature.

Niva continued.

For centuries, all was well. Until one day, a Devil showed up. What it wanted wasn't obvious from the portrayals, but the result spoke for itself. Their goddess held back the fiend for a time, yet she wasn't powerful enough. So, it slaughtered them in droves. First were their warriors; next were their women and children. None were spared. Despite the battle leaving the deity broken and weak, she guided a small group of survivors toward the underworld with her last shuddering breath. Banished from their own home, they were forced to cower beneath the earth, fearing ever being found again.

The last picture showed the figure of a girl cased in a bubble surrounded by kneeling creatures. Underneath it stood a sentence.

May the world above,

Dread the fury of Sha'Kath.

Whereas a light qi impression had been left on the goddess, these words dripped with meaning. Fury. Indignation. Patience. Revenge.

A shudder passed through Niva, and she once more regarded the void beyond her little border of light. Whatever was out there wasn't playing around. Everything she acquired from this place would be over their cold, dead bodies if that was even enough to take them out. Some beings refused to die unless you incinerated their physical form into literal nothingness. Even then, it was still possible for them to haunt you as a ghost.

The smell of iron passed her nostrils as Niva sucked in a breath, taking in the gravity of what she was about to do. It was evil. But not all acts of evil were foolish; their world was a constant fight for territory and resources, and as soon as you quit struggling, someone else would gobble you up. It wasn't an excuse, but she hid behind it, nonetheless.

Lamp held out before her face, blood around her spear twisting and writhing in merciless hunger, her features set in grim resolve. She proceeded.

Tonight, she would become the second coming of the Devil.