Bernard Maelstrom sat in the room of the youngster he’d tied up and stuffed in a closet. His plan was to replace the youngster in the Tournament of Scions. He’d felt sure of his plan before the start of the day, until he actually had to fight against the Cultivators of the current day and age.
Before he was put to sleep, his power had been seen as immense, nearly unrivaled. Now though he felt as if he’d put himself in the direct line of fire, only to receive little reward.
He’d thought he’d be able to gain fame, and through this spotlight, he’d be able to draw in potential allies, and maybe even start to reform his power base. However, what he’d not suspected was that the overall level of Cultivation had taken a huge leap in his absence. The skills, techniques, and abilities displayed against him had robbed him of nearly all of the confidence that had once led to him being proclaimed to be an unstoppable force.
At first, he thought the young woman whom he came across was a mere fire cultivator. The young woman could have been his mother’s twin, their facial features nearly identical. He’d tried to attack her in the same way he’d pressured the rest of the opponents he’d encountered as he explored the tournament grounds. Then he’d realized just how much danger he was in and failed outright.
He’d thought that the young wouldn’t be powerful. His first few opponents bolstering the thought, until he was forced to flee from purple flames that washed away his summons like hot water on dirt-crusted skin.
Her flames, at first, had been mild, but the more Bernard attacked, the more flames her body expelled. He thought he’d be able to overcome the inferno with overwhelming force and trickery, yet the situation continued to grow out of hand.
She’d only shot fireballs at first. The balls eating away at anything they touched, and Bernard quickly realized he would lose a ranged battle no matter how many summons he used. However, when he closed in attempting to use his supernatural levels of strength, the young woman became even more dangerous.
Bernard was unaware that she’d never tried much of what she showed during their interaction. Her entire body poured the flames from her skin, a roar of exhilaration bellowing out from his opponent as she became the personification of an Avatar of flames. Covered from head to toe in a deep purple inferno.
The gold tinged flames were hot enough to cause the air around him to quake with heat waves so hot he couldn’t breathe while within the young woman’s range. This was the first time he’d been forced to flee that day, and though he thought this was a fluke, he was quickly proven wrong.
In his very next encounter, he’d tried to sneak up on a young man with a robotic suit of armor, pulling himself from the young man’s shadow, only for a flying mechanical hand to shoot from absolutely nowhere. And the mechanical armor suit used some sort of spacial pocket systems that shot weapons from the Cultivator’s chest.
It wasn’t until he was dangled by his neck that he truly took in the features of the armor. The metal it was formed from moved like skin. As if the material was stronger than stone or titanium, with the flexibility of plastic, the mechanical armor moved like liquid as the young man turned around to face Bernard.
The chest plate was transparent, showing the inner workings of the gears uncountable in number, and far more advanced than anything Bernard had ever witnessed. Runes the size of ants were carved into the gears no bigger than his own fingernails, giving the armor the ability to create weapons that built themselves in various locations across the armor suit.
A deep voice came from the armor, chuckling heartily even as the young man was charged from behind within the dense jungle around them. A shoulder mounted cannon building itself in a breath, firing on individuals both seen and unseen in the distance. Bernard feeling as if he’d truly be incinerated if the cannon turned in his direction, he did the only thing he thought would save him in that situation. He tried to flee.
His attempt to phase through the flying hand that wrapped around his neck with an incredible vice grip, failed. Only for a rune to appear, and force his entire body to solidify, his gasps for air making the young man chuckle even harder.
Bernard’s gut twisted when the young man turned his back to Bernard once more, giving a single glance over his shoulder, uncaring that Bernard’s skills in assassinations had once toppled empires. The words spoken to him playing on repeat in his mind even now, long after the sun had set.
“Man, you wouldn’t believe how many times that rune failed on my boy, Khalif, you must suck at this…”
The robotic hand jetted off, Bernard smashed into a series of nearby structures. His body pushed through walls, other Cultivators, and finally tossed into a rushing river like a skipped stone across the surface.
At this point Bernard became far more selective in his choice of target. Yet the more he engaged the more discouraged he became.
A young woman with an incredible aura fought atop a hill, being charged on all sides. Literally yelling insults and beating her chest as her enemies rushed her. Bernard thought it the perfect opportunity to capitalize on, but this too ended badly.
How is this even possible… Bernard rubbed his chest where he’d been kicked so hard that he could still feel the enemy mana causing damage to him. He couldn’t believe what he’d gone through and still barely managed to survive. He didn’t have the same rune that protected the other competitors from deadly blows and felt he was going to pay dearly if he continued to participate.
Watching the highlight reels being shown on the screen near to him, he shuttered at the displays of power. Not knowing what else to do, he went to the closet and opened it, pulling his hostage from inside, before he sat the young man down in a chair, and pulled the gag he’d placed in his mouth out, leaving the blindfold on his prisoner's face.
“You know, I really thought you’d scream,” Bernard stated confused.
“For what, you think this is my first time being kidnapped, dude? I’m one of the richest kids in my realm back home,” said the young man with a chuckle. Bernard’s brow furrowing at the laughter.
“Is everyone in this place bloody mad?” The young man shrugged before he spoke up, seeming to think a moment.
“Maybe… depends on what you mean by mad, I’m not angry with you if that’s what you mean,?” Bernard shook his head at the Cultivator before he realized the young man was still blindfolded, smashing the ripped bedsheet from his face, gesturing toward the screen.
The young man blinked the sudden light in the room from his eyes, and focused on Bernard, and then the screen he pointed toward. The young man seemed to grow excited before he yelled with excitement.
“Oh sparks, Carter Gestalt is in the tournament! I bet that was a blast to witness!” said the oddly unbothered young man.
“Is that his name?” mumbled Bernard under his breath, glancing toward the scene on screen showing the moment Carter Gestalt stopped allowing a room full of Cultivators to beat him senseless. Yet another instance where Bernard had been forced to run coincidentally on screen. The Cultivator's onscreen blows were problematic enough for the various foes being defeated that Bernard was glad he didn’t try and rush the young man with the rest of the others knocked from the tournament within the building he’d fled from.
“Why isn’t he using any of his cool stuff, like his weapons or those crazy orbs that blow up?” Bernard’s gaze shot back toward his captive.
“What do you mean cool stuff?” His captive didn’t even look toward him speaking up while staring at all he'd missed while closet-bound.
“I follow his channel on Chatter, and even have his company’s app. He isn’t even trying or maybe he was acting weak to make more opponents feel as if they could take him down. I mean I could see that working, people are dumb enough for that kind of ploy.”
“You’re saying he’s stronger than what is even being shown right now?”
“Dude, you have no idea. I paid an arm and a leg to watch him beat the sparks out of an eight legged wolf the size of a freaking train, well worth the money, but from what I can tell he isn’t even trying, my guy!”
Bernard’s gaze shot back toward the holograms. The realization that the young man on screen may be the one to have woken him from his eternal slumber was enough to make Bernard completely unsettled. He’d fled from this Carter Gestalt, and the young man wasn’t even trying to induce the fear he’d pushed into Bernard’s mind.
“How is this even possible…”
“I know what you mean, my guy. It seems unfair. I’m like mega rich, super dumb mega rich, and it don’t matter how much training I get, or resources I have, those people on screen just ain’t normal, don’t take it personal,” the young man said with an awkward laugh. Bernard and the young man lost themselves in the highlights, but after a while his captive spoke up again.
“Yo, since we are just sitting here, do you mind checking those notifications on the station table over there? My flat screen is going crazy in my pocket and I don’t know why, and I know the deal, I can’t call anyone I love or whatever blah blah blah, but I don’t like being out of the loop and there are an insane amount of notifications on that thing,” his prisoner rambled. Bernard glanced over, and shrugged. He didn’t have anything better to do, so shrugged and rose.
Once there a message played, indicating that an auction was being held within the coliseum. Bernard looked back at the young man who shrugged, nodding in his direction when Bernard gave him a questioning look about the request to pay an admission cost to participate. Bernard accepted the cost and walked back to his seat, not paying attention until the young man screamed in alarm.
“Holy mother of maidens, hit the buyout right sparking now!” Bernard looked up at the young man, confused. Their eyes met and the young man screamed again.
“Didn’t you hear me, hit the buyout button right now you sparking idiot, do it now!” Bernard jerked back in offense. The young man seemed pretty down to earth, and he’d honestly killed men and women for less than calling him an idiot. Bernard opened his mouth the tell the young man as much, only to be cut off by the young man diving onto the floor and trying to crawl toward the station table.
“What in the ever living heaven’s fire are you doing…” the words were stripped from his mind when he saw the drake skeleton on screen behind him.
“Oh my maiden,” mumbled Bernard.
“Hit the sparking button!” The price of the drake bones on screen had reached half a quadrillion credits and was still on the rise. Bernard was frozen by the sight, thinking of all the things he knew he could achieve with elemental drake bones.
I could become a bi-elemental cultivator, thought Bernard, jumping to his feet. The thought of his shadows infused with flame, or lightning making his heart skip a beat. He rushed so quickly that he tripped over the young man still flopping about to get to the station table as quickly as possible.
“Mother of bloody sparking embers get up and hit that button now!”
…
“So what do you think is going to happen when they see the higher quality ones we have,” Jasmine asked, shocked by the price still going up on screen. Arson shrugged.
“I didn’t think my mom was serious that it would sell for that much, she has entire dungeons full of dragons,” Arson said pacing in his suite. The rest of the Builders of Godhood had been silenced by what was happening. The amount of money on screen enough to take them into an entirely new tax bracket, not as individuals but as a collective whole.
“You don’t think we are putting a target on our backs by doing this,” asked Khalif, and Arson looked at him, noting that many in the room nodded in agreement.
“Of course, but is that any different than having Mr Kim, or sparking RaidCorp hounding us? I’d rather be able to take this opportunity to make as much as possible and be able to defend ourselves, than hide and be taken off the board entirely before we are truly able to stand alone as an organization. We won’t always be able to hide behind my mother’s skirt, or Momma Almarine’s dress,” Arson stated with a wave of his hands to dismiss any potential worries. He didn’t believe them having anything of value was an issue, more having resources that they weren’t willing to share with friend or foe. He couldn’t help but think of his days within the orphanage where being stolen from was common, unless the appearance of the continual sharing absolutely everything was achieved.
Give something of considerable value, and everything less will go unnoticed…
“Arson!”
His gaze shot back toward Jasmine who’d jumped to her feet and then toward the screen. Arson’s mouth dropped open, mirroring the auctioneer on screen. The lovely young woman’s mouth trembling as she struggled to speak.
The group in the room was absolutely silent. Lane’s mouth hung open. Khalif’s seat grew wet as he peed. Rob held a shattered bottle from their liquor brand, the continents all over the table in front of him.
“No way…,” Arson mumbled looking around. He’d thought maybe he was hallucinating, but as he looked around he knew he wasn’t. Micro holding the wrong end of the sword she’d just been twirling about in the air would have been enough to convince Arson that he wasn’t daydreaming or asleep as she bled all over the floor. Yet it wasn’t until Oscar walked into the room, looked around, took in the sight in front of them all, dropped everyone's snacks all over the place, strolled passed everyone to stand a foot in front of the holo wall screen, bent at the waist and squinted before he cleared his throat, that Arson truly knew he wasn’t asleep.
Oscar’s eyes went wide in shock, then he squinted, only for his eyes to widen again, the cycle continuing a handful more times as if he couldn’t confirm what he was seeing, disbelief written all over his features. He stood upright and pointed at the screen, the young man’s next words the first thing to break the silence that permeated throughout the entirety of the coliseum as a whole.
“I thought you said if we set the buyout that high no one would buy it, bra?”
No one responded. No one moved. No one even breathed but Oscar who kept looking back toward the holo screen, and back at the others. The next person to speak the still stunned auctioneer.
“Sold for one quintillion credits!”