Forty minutes later, and he finally felt as though he’d been brought up to speed.
Not that it made any of it any less confusing mind you, but now at least he thought he had a better handle on the situation. First things first? It was official. He’d royally messed up. Talk about biting off more than he could chew.
If the workshop was to be believed, and as far as he could tell it didn’t have any reason to lie to him—in fact it seemed to take great pleasure in delivering hard truths—by raising his resonance as high as he had, and forming more than one conceptual bond besides, he’d not only overtaxed his spirit greatly, but he’d become far too resonant with the concepts in question.
So much so that the spiritual weight of their natures had begun to supersede his own. Slowly eating away at his ego, his sense of self, even as he sought to resonate with them more completely.
Luckily for him, the true soul and his spirit body were two distinctly separate entities. And, in his utter desperation, he’d, somehow, managed to detach one from the other. The first, his true soul, was effectively immortal. While the other, his spirit body, most definitely was not.
For so long it remained whole, his true soul would persist in the cycle of reincarnation indefinitely. While his spirit body, on the other hand, was an extension of his self. His ego. His wants and his desires. Beliefs and personality. And would, therefore, expire when his body did.
It was his spirit body that’d been slowly corrupted by his ludicrously high resonance pillar.
And though his acceptance of this explanation hadn’t taken all that much convincing—after the initial shock he’d found it fit very neatly into what he’d been experiencing—that didn’t stop the workshop from giving ample proof.
From a massively curved system screen, which seemed to take up a full quarter of the void like space, was projected several scenes. Each of them displayed as if from his perspective.
Very deliberately, one after another, the workshop entity shored up the many blank spots he’d had in his memory. Revealing to him the true extent of the damage, and how, entirely unbeknownst to him, his words, actions, and morality had been warped to better reflect the higher ideals he’d adopted.
Altering him in ways that frightened him at times—and made him cringe at others—to the point that he barely recognized himself or what he might be capable of.
And worse yet were the overwhelming feelings of helplessness watching the scenes gave him, given the fact he’d been told, on more than one occasion, that to reenter his spirit body as he was now would amount to suicide. To place himself at the mercy of whatever fate was reserved for prematurely devoured souls.
Apparently, this entire conundrum wasn’t an issue he was supposed to be faced with for a while yet—until he was much further along his path—but because of the idiotic way he’d gone about things, and one other unanticipated factor besides, he’d been presented with this specific bottleneck well before his body, mind, or spirit were prepared.
Are you aware that your system interface has been tampered with? I only ask because it would do much to explain your ignorance of subjects I would have expected you to be well versed in.
The workshop casually dropped this little bombshell about halfway through their conversation. And, for the record, no, as it so happened, he had not been aware of any such thing, though it did give him the same feeling as Ivory’s vision had. Like he’d been missing something crucial this entire time that, somehow, he’d also always known.
After some system trickery he didn’t at all understand, the workshop was quickly able to show him a screen that was without any of the supposed tampering. One he immediately recognized, and yet found so wholly unfamiliar.
Name: Beckonfrost Zhaoshen Junwei
Race: Human
Cultivation: Spirit Condensation Realm: 7th Stage
Bloodline: Sublime Panoply (5 Stars) [Sealed]
Titles: Merchant of Promise, Fledgeling Magnate, Budding Sage
Cultivated Body: NOT APPLICABLE
Resonance Pillar: Traveled Copper [32 of 50]
Body: 2 Celestial Dew (2,602 Celestial Essence)
Mind: 2 Celestial Dew (2,602 Celestial Essence)
Spirit: 2 Celestial Dew (2,237 Celestial Essence)
Insight: 6 Stars (250,000,877 Celestial Essence)
Martial Alignment: Concept of Cutting (2nd Aspect), Concept of Crushing (1st Aspect), Concept of Piercing (1st Aspect), Concept of Cleaving (1st Aspect)
Substantive Alignment: NOT APPLICABLE
Conceptual Alignment: NOT APPLICABLE
Talents: Soul Bond (2 Stars), Child of Dao (6 Stars) [Sealed]
Spirit Coins: 1,240,500
Mortal Potential: 248,046,500 points
Well… that’s… fuck that’s… what the hell?
And, as if to add icing to the proverbial cake, there were his talents. The corrupted ones he’d been presented with what felt like a lifetime ago now.
Born Talent: |Soul Bond| [Linked]
If Two Minds Are Better Than One, Two Souls Must Be Greater Still
Your Soul and Another’s Have Been Karmically Linked at Birth.
(Passive Effect): May Share Any Property and or Status Inherent to the Soul.
Fated Talent: |Child of Dao| (Unique) [Sealed]
The Primordial Dao Avatars Eagerly Await Your Ascension.
(Passive Effect): Bonuses to Conceptual Comprehension.
It was already so much for him to wrap his head around, and then the haughty workshop went on to explain how his spirit body had effectively been kidnapped. Or his astral body had been, in any case, though he didn’t really think there was a difference.
“A perforated anima… so, it’s effectively like another kind of soul realm?”
That is not incorrect.
“And yet it’s not the whole truth either.”
Correct.
“Can I get a definition?” Jun sighed.
Perforated Anima: An astral pocket suitable for those on the cusp of the nascent soul realm, the perforated anima is a mortal soul that has been forcefully expanded into a middling astral plane. While extremely unstable as a direct result of its creation, within it exists exceptional opportunities for spiritual growth.
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Often, many of the resources used in its creation remain. These can take the forms of dense pockets of un-aspected spiritual energy, and or middling grade soul harmonizing treasures. By its nature, it is a widely advertised and easily accessible realm, often rife with sweeping conflicts.
Rest assured that many with easy access to this particular astral plane will flock to such a rare and covetous opportunity in droves.
Join them at your own peril.
And that had been the gist of it. An exceedingly unfortunate state of affairs which he had no idea how he could possibly squirm his way out of. He let his mind grapple with the problem for some time, before he eventually caved and asked the obvious question.
“So, by this point I think I understand the sorry position I’m in. Now, how exactly do I go about fixing it?”
You cannot.
“I-? What? Wait, what do you mean I can’t? Surely there has to be something I can do.”
Unlikely. Seeing as you cannot leave for fear of total erasure. Meanwhile any proactive steps you can feasibly take while within this workshop will only serve to hasten the degradation of body, mind, and spirit.
“So, you’re saying there’s nothing I can do?”
Apart from watch, wait, and possibly pray? No. Now, that isn’t to say that the problem will not solve itself in due time. There should be an abundance of resources hidden within the perforated anima. Soul harmonizing treasures which, if consumed, have the capacity to temper your soul. Warding it against dissonance backlash, ego erosion, and other such spiritual maladies. It is only a matter of consuming said treasures in a timely fashion.
“Which will be rather hard to do while stuck in here, instead of out there, actually in control of my own damn body.”
You understand the dilemma. Rest assured, your physical body will not decay in the meantime. Within the astral plane your spirit body now resides in, time flows at a vastly accelerated pace. Here, that initial time dilation is multiplied severalfold. You could experience entire decades within these walls before your physical body is troubled by the even the smallest pangs of starvation.
“Great. So my choices are to either sit here and do nothing, or sit here and do nothing. With the added benefit of knowing my body is slowly starving to death casually sprinkled in there, just for good measure. Did I get that right? Am I missing anything?”
It is a very slow death.
Jun ground his teeth. This whole situation was infuriating. He felt just as impotent now as he had been throughout so much of his life. And he knew that if he didn’t do something, anything, it was entirely possible he’d slip back into that state of blank numbness, as he patiently awaited true oblivion.
“No.”
Excuse me?
“I refuse to believe that there’s nothing I can do. What about these things?” he gestured at the five new rat-kin shaped constructs that’d appeared following his arrival. “If I improved them, raised their conceptual stability then assimilated them, would they transfer over to my spirit body? Even while I’m stuck in here? No! Actually, would it be possible for you to hold them in reserve?! You know, like after I’ve run the trial, but before they transfer over completely?”
Yes, and yes on both accounts. Though doing so remains inadvisable. You must know that more resonance will only serve to further exacerbate the problem.
“That’s true, but what will it matter if my body—spirit body—whatever, never lasts long enough to find whatever I need to harmonize my soul. Would you say that the beings which are drawn into a perforated anima are more powerful than I am?”
Exceedingly so. Yes.
“Right then. So, I figure out how to manually upgrade these mantras, assimilate, then hold them in reserve…? Would it be possible to show me a real time view from my perspective?”
Without a written response, the curved screen in the sky flickered, and suddenly the previous scene of bombastic, over the top violence was replaced by a slightly fluttering darkness. It only took him a few moments more to recognize the back of his own eyelids.
“Perfect. Now all I need to do is make sure I don’t screw up the timing. Assimilate them too fast and I risk losing myself completely, but too slow and I forfeit my life outright… I’ll also want a varied stockpile just in case the situation out there calls for something specific. A bit tricky… but I should be able to…?”
Without another thought for the pantheistic workshop arbiter he’d spoken with only moments before, Jun summoned the nearest construct, selected edit when its notification popped up, then began the convoluted process of sculpting the confused and jumbled mess into something even remotely comprehensible.
A hunch as to how best to go about it already forefront in his mind.
image [https://i.ibb.co/rw6tMBB/IMG-2711.png]
It was in an out of the way province, within an out of the way town—more a way station for weary adventurers and the occasional frontline platoon, than a place where good folks tended to stop by and settle down—that an older woman of middle years tentatively called home.
To be more exact, it was within the town’s only inn, suitably called Blue Ember’s Refuge, that she’d managed to carve out a place for herself, her own little domain.
Raised on less than affluent means, it wasn’t an exaggeration to say that it’d taken much to get to where she was now. Standing behind her bar—eight feet by forty-two inches of dark, polished mahogany—while patiently drying the inside of a rather large glass with deliberate swabs of a cleanish dish rag.
She wasn’t overly boisterous, nor charismatic in her work.
She kept to herself, was good at her job, and only ever demanded common decency in return. A former adventurer herself, with many of her similarly retired friends serving among the waitstaff, there weren’t many that found themselves outwardly opposed to her rules of conduct.
And as for the outliers…?
She was happy to say those still conscious after the fact very quickly found themselves amenable.
Perhaps it was because of her aloof and unassuming nature. Perhaps it was merely a consequence of the trade. Either way, any claim she’d once held over her birth name had long since eroded under the plodding tread of many blessedly uneventful years.
To be replaced by a given moniker that she couldn’t entirely say she minded.
All that was left at the end of the day was a simple barkeep. It was just a coincidence that she also happened to have uncommonly high situational awareness and threat assessment capabilities. Both of which were currently firing off on all cylinders. Not that she let it show, of course.
“You’re mad! Don’t tell me you actually believe it’ll be that easy? I think you need to get your head checked friend. Something’s clearly come loose.”
“Hah! We’ll see who the crazy one is when I’m rolling in it, just you wait.”
“Raving. That’s what you are. Raving bloody mad. Well, it’s your funeral. Mind running up a tab then? So long as drinks are on you and everything, I’d like to capitalize while the getting’s still good.”
“I already told you; my stepsister’s aunt’s cousin’s kid managed it just fine. Now I doubt her, or her ma will ever have to work another day in their lives! Brokers in the capital will pay fat sacks just for the whereabouts of some unique variant or another.”
“And why the hell would they want to do that?”
“Didn’t you hear? It’s the heiress! Couldn’t just settle for any old familiar, could she? Only the best of the best for our dear princess. Put out a bounty for rarer than rare rift spawn, with a Queen’s ransom for the finest catch. Word is she’s already rejected hundreds, if not thousands! Some of them well into the C grade, if you can believe it.”
“And so, what? Figured you’d tramp about the fringes on the off chance you stumble across the most unique, never before seen rift spawn in all the queendom?”
“But that’s the beauty of it, my friend! I don’t actually have to worry about winning, Queen take it! Leave that to the merchants and the nobility to figure out. I just need to come close. Close enough that some information broker or big city functionary feels comfortable in taking on all the risk for me. I’m telling you, when I hit it big and make my fortune, then you’ll see.”
“Well, alright then. Let’s say you’ve got me convinced. In the meantime, how’s about another round on you? Barkeep!”
All throughout the farcical conversation, the barkeep quite literally kept her eyes on the task at hand. Making sure to give every glass the deliberate attention it was due, before setting it aside and beginning on the next.
That said, while outwardly she made a care to appear otherwise preoccupied, her mind never strayed from the small group of hooded figures, sitting quietly at a table in the very back. The group of travelers that, ever since they’d first entered her establishment, took up the vast majority of her focus.
As she saw to the two regulars, she watched carefully out of the corner of her eye as the hooded strangers rose from their table all at once and began to weave their way through the crowd towards the main entrance.
As they passed by uproarious tables, drunken contests, and harried waitstaff, the barkeep slowly felt her tension ease.
Perhaps this might pass without incident after all.
Of course, that was when one of them broke off from the others and began to make their way in her direction. The barkeep tensed, letting one hand casually slip beneath the countertop to caress the handle of her two headed battle axe.
When a second of the group broke off to join the first, she began to signal towards the waitstaff that they might be in for a fight. A fight which, if she was being honest with herself, she couldn’t entirely be sure they would win.
Which was why, when, instead of falling in line with the other, the second roughly grabbed the first by the arm and hauled them bodily towards the front doors, the barkeep couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.
Crisis averted, she now looked after the pair with open curiosity.
Who were they to give off such densely concentrated auras? One of the Queen’s Knightly Cohorts on their way to the wall? An Adjudicator and her entourage? Or perhaps they were merely what they seemed. Adventurers.
Though they’d have to have been of the B grade at least. In any event, it was because of her lingering gaze that she managed to catch one last glimpse of the pair as they disappeared out into the night.
As the one which blazed more brilliantly than any of the others to her soul sight, glanced back one last time—turning their impenetrable hood in the barkeep’s general direction with what she could have sworn was an unmistakably forlorn expression.