John drank deeply from the spirit spring, draining energy into his dantian. A couple weeks of exposure to the energy in the core sect had pushed him from 55% all the way to 90%, it was simply too easy for a Foundation Establishment cultivator to advance with those kinds of resources. Given John's refusal to advance with anything less than 100% full, there was no chance for him to have a 'rushed', or incomplete, foundation either. It took only moments to fill the last 10%, and only a couple days of meditation to fully convert it to his own silken variety. A spirit spring all to himself was even more concentrated, even more ridiculous than the Core Sect, though John doubted it could sustain more than one Golden Core cultivator for long.
John lamented his inability to circulate qi, digesting it was so much slower! It was only how tantalizingly close he was to another advancement that kept him focused. Normal cultivators advanced their Muscles through a combination of repeated striking and strenuous exercise. During the recovery process, a cultivator could meditate to repair the damaged tissue with qi-reinforced material, strengthening it and elevating it in the same stroke. After enough repetitions of this process their entire musculature could be replaced, but it was exceedingly difficult to do perfectly. Exercising and damaging say, the muscles between someone's ribs, for example. It would be extremely difficult to do so with only a mundane skeletal structure. Luckily, John didn't need to take quite the same path.
The moment came, John's dantian was 100% full. He ignited his qi. Strand upon strand of silk blasted out of him, nearly filling the room. Hundreds of the thousands of threads retreated and began to cocoon him, but not fast enough for him to miss the majority of his qi slither into the spring itself and begin to break up and twist into new shapes. Spiders. John gulped, and his eyes were covered.
The world lurched in a direction John still could not understand. There was a ripping sound followed by the screaming laughter of mad demons. They were raucous, mixing deranged barks in with their uncontrolled howling. John could vividly picture their slavering jaws. His anxiety spiked as he imagined his advancement proceeding by the hell hounds rending the muscled from his bones, only to be repaired by some further unspeakable horror--but there was a yelping sound and the hounds quickly withdrew.
Silence for a few moments.
Then, John heard it, a soft irregular tapping, like bare feet on packed dirt.
tap
tap
tap
tap
tap
tap
It got closer and closer, until whatever it was made it into the cave. Each step on stone was another soft tap, followed now by a sharp click. John was still paralyzed by the cocoon, totally helpless. Whatever had scared off the hell hounds had inhuman legs with nigh-metallic claws. And it was getting closer.
The taps and clicks made their way up to his cocoon and stopped.
There was several tense moments of silence, it felt like minutes passed.
The demon shifted, clicking its way behind John, and settling.
Hello John. The voice was beyond understanding, and yet John felt it's meaning scraping its way into his head.
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You've been coming along just fine... something stroked the top of his cocoon, he could hear the strings of qi being cut delicately.
I hope you liked the bones I made you. I put a lot of work into those. It took you such a long time to meet me again, I was getting worried. It practically purred while slicing away at his qi construct.
Let me help you John.
The last of John's qi shred away under the claws of the demon, and he saw the barest hint of the tip of a claw before his instincts screamed at him to look away. The cut burned an afterimage into his retinas.
DONT LOOK
tap. click.
DONT LOOK
tap. click.
DONT LOOK
tap. click.
Eventually, the demon retreated away, an an audible pop could be heard as the rift in reality closed up suddenly. John wanted to throw up. Instead, he opened his eyes.
Strands of his qi, no longer under his control, were wriggling themselves together in the water in a display of shockingly fine control. Each large strand wove itself into hundreds if not thousands of miniscule spiders. They soaked up the water as well, ballooned thoraxes sloshing with qi filled liquid. Millions of the tiny qi constructs completed in the same moment and swarmed out of the spring, heading for the still paralyzed John.
John wanted to scream but he was still paralyzed. For a moment, he was overwhelmed by the revolting sensation of insects crawling across his skin, before they began to chew through his skin and into his body. He braced for the pain, prepared to scream out in his mind even if not through his paralyzed lips, but miraculously, he barely felt anything! There was a slight burning sensation across his skin, and a dull ache starting in his muscles all across his body. It was a lot like the ache of a hard days work, only radiating and itchy. If he didn't see the white blood flowing out of his numerous wounds, he could even pretend it was normal.
Speaking of blood, the spiders seemed to drink it up just the same as the well water. It filled their little abdomens, mixing together with the water and changing somehow. The spiders who drank his blood immediately started leaking strands of silk from their spinnerets before climbing onto him and chewing through him. Idly, John supposed the spiders were eating up his flesh and replacing it with silk. Weird cultivation truly led him to some bizarre moments.
The process was getting more uncomfortable now. The burning tingling sensation was more intense, all over his body. John wondered what caused him to avoid the crippling pain, the demon had implied he was going to help him, that was the only-----
You're the best John, I knew you were the perfect match.
John froze, that had come from all directions at once, or perhaps, inside him? Something had to be controlling the spiders. John shuddered uncontrollably.
Whatever was happening, it continued for some time. By the end there was barely a trickle of heat left in his muscles. He felt like he was bursting with strength, but his mind had been razor focused for what felt like hours--maybe even was hours, it was difficult to track the passing of time. Either way, he quickly passed out as the feeling subsided.
It was an unknown length of time until he woke up.
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When John came-to, he was seriously groggy. His body was both stiff and incredibly sore. He must have been clenching considerably in this latest vision, so much for pain free. That demon had been absolutely terrifying. The almost loving way it spoke and cut away his cocoon, vile. At least he didn't get devoured by hell hounds? Getting eaten alive by spiders wasn't ideal either, frankly. There was still much to be done; it was good that he advanced again, but his current situation was far from ideal. He needed to advance even quicker and reach Golden Core as soon as possible. Otherwise it would be difficult to negotiate with the other Elders.
As John was getting lost in such thoughts, he stood up, freezing as a thin blanket of silk threads fell off him. In his 'vision', spiders had left strands of silk on him just like that after drinking his spilled blood. Finally taking proper stock of his surroundings, there was a pile of silk at his feet, and much still stuck to him. The damning evidence was the spirit spring itself, the water had receded by several feet. Maybe it was possible--through some truly absurd and narrow odds, that there was a natural explanation for this, but John figured the answer was certainly supernatural.
Just like the Head Librarian, something in his vision had followed him into the waking world. The terrifying question was: how much of that had been real?