Alistair quelled that feeling of rage. It would do him no good to be mad. At least not until he figured out how to truly incorporate Ghost and Fist into his concept of blood and vengeance.
A symbol appeared next to Alistair’s position on the ranking chart, which was at the very bottom. Though, he speculated that was because he hadn’t finished the sector yet. Is that my time? Alistair wondered. My performance rating? How are they ranking us fairly if we’re all facing our past opponents?
Those thoughts quickly faded as a beep sound played once again. Alistair readied himself, but he was too late.
If he had been submerged in Tranquil Mind’s waters, he might have been able to react. The world became fire. Everywhere around Alistair, miniature explosions of orange-red flame spread like a chain reaction. The amount of Mana and Dao energy contained within the explosions exceeded his own ultimate Skill’s output, washing out everything in a blanket of fire. The flames were so hot he could see the very threads of Fate themselves singing and burning, which explained why his foresight didn’t see the sudden attack coming.
Alistair tried running. He activated all of his defenses at once. [Frozen Claw] with as much of the Ghost Node as he could muster, focusing his power on turning the flames into harmless spirit crystal. He flexed his muscles in the way that Pike and Master Ko Pao had taught him, regardless of the fact he was being assaulted with fire, not a punch or kick.
Dev'rox struggled as well, expending Mana like crazy to open a safe passage for his host. All for naught. The space affinity Mana that the ghost could muster was but a drop in an ocean compared to the chain explosions.
There was nothing he could do. With only ten meters of distance separating the two fighters before the beep heralded their duel, he was already too close.
An explosion triggered right in front of Alistair’s face as his [Dashes] failed in the sea of boiling air. Burning pain washed over him for a brief moment. He would not falter. Not now, not ever. He could still move, the fires were hot but not—
Alistair looked down, seeing that he was no longer moving.
“My le—”
The flames entered his mouth, and then there was nothing.
Death. Alistair’s mortal life had ended.
Alistair came to coughing up a storm. He dry retched multiple times, so disoriented from the feeling of dying. It was like Atavius’s fires were still inside him, burning him up from the inside.
After a minute of convulsing, Alistair’s body finally realized it wasn’t in danger any longer, and he just laid on the floor breathing heavily.
He was in a white space the size of a bedroom. There was no ornamentation, only white tiling that felt sterile and devoid of life.
“It’ll pass.” The voice that spoke those words felt like warm honey on a winter’s day. Alistair tilted his head up to see the source.
Alistair’s breath was taken away as he saw what had to be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her skin was pale and flawless, her features delicate and rosy. She had luscious black hair that fell over a silk dress, similar to a qipao, that gracefully flowed over her full figure. The most stunning feature of all, however, were her golden eyes that outshone even the all-white room they were in.
The woman was sitting down in a meditative pose, her serene pose unaltered by Alistair’s noisy arrival. In spite of all his life-or-death battles, keeping a cool face in front of this unrivaled beauty was a whole different task. Alistair almost thought he could hear the song “Like A Virgin” play in his head.
“I think the worst has already gone,” Alistair said with an even voice, performing a kick up off of his back to get to his feet in one smooth motion. The woman’s lips curled up in a small smile seeing his acrobatics. “What is this place? No, that’s quite rude of me. What is your name?”
“Gu Fuhao,” she said, rising to her feet in a single motion off of one knee. Alistair couldn’t explain it, but every word out of her mouth resonated with something deep in his soul. Was it some aspect of her cultivation? “And yours?”
“Alistair Tan.”
“This place is the waiting room,” she said. “Were you not informed?”
“I’m not informed about most things,” Alistair said. “You could say I’m kind of a country bumpkin.”
A spark went off in Fuhao’s eyes as she realized what he meant. “Ah, a Prime Initiate. That makes more sense. The Cosmic Blood is for those under level 100 to test themselves against their past foes in a standardized manner. The rankings show the leaders within the fief.”
"I'm even under level 60," Alistair said. "Graded on a curve, then?"
Fuhao nodded. Alistair followed up with another question. "“How does that work when there’s groups versus individuals?”
“Groups versus individuals?” Fuhao raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“From my world, they allow groups of eight to attempt Cosmic Blood,” Alistair explained. “The current sixth position on what I assume to be are the Disputed Shard rankings is a notorious criminal from my world. Well, I don’t know if ‘criminal’ is the best way to put it anymore. All that’s really important is that he is a very, very bad guy.”
“I see,” Fuhao said. “The initiates are far weaker than the established youth, so they must have let you come in groups. Still, sixth is impressive, even if it was a team of eight.” She looked down at his chest. “Where did you get that?”
“Lots of working out,” Alistair said. “Bench press, push ups, dips. The whole gamut.”
Fuhao gave him a playful glare. “I mean the ring around your neck.”
Alistair looked down, feeling the golden chain and ring. The Thrice-Blessed Fate-Diviner was not something that he thought about often. He never really felt its influence, even though his Karmic sight had gotten much better over time. Its influence on the machinations of Fate must have been subtle and advanced.
“It was a gift from my sponsor, the Clear Water Sect.”
Fuhao chuckled. “As I suspected. Our meeting is providential, then. For I too shall be attending the Clear Water Sect next standard year.”
“I look forward to seeing you again,” Alistair said. “Are you also from the Disputed Shard? I assume so, since you’re here.”
“The head Gu Clan rules the Plain Expanse duchy, on the border of Mai Atal. I am from one of their many branches. Don’t get your hopes up too high.”
“What, you take me for someone that cares about silly things like status?” Alistair smiled. “I’m not so shallow.”
“Status is not that weak you can throw it away like an impure pill,” she said. “You must be quite special to have such a disregard for it.”
“What if I am special?”
“I am not in the habit of befriending braggarts,” Fuhao said with a smile that Alistair couldn’t read. “We have too much of those in this generation.”
“What’s the antidote then? A good old-fashioned dose of chivalry?”
“I’d settle for anyone that knew openly bragging about one’s inwrought foundations was gauche.”
“Settle as in—”
Fuhao coughed, but with her sonorous intonation it sounded more majestic than that. “Don’t you want to know more about Cosmic Blood? For instance, every time you die, you’re held here for an hour, increasing by another hour each subsequent death.”
“That would probably be a good thing to know,” Alistair admitted. “I’m all ears, thank you.”
Fuhao explained to him the rest of the conditions of Cosmic Blood. While one’s energy reserves were reset every death, this didn’t apply to things like cooldowns of Skills to prevent people from spamming their finishing Skills in an unrealistic way. This also applied to proto-Domains, which were limited to once per day, but that part was irrelevant to Alistair.
There was one final aspect that the initial dungeon prompt didn’t mention—the Badge. For those that placed well in the fief rankings, there was special Badge named after the sector itself that gave bonuses in accordance with one’s performance. For example, 1st place received a Badge called “Cosmic Blood - 1st Place”, while those in lesser positions got Badges like “Cosmic Blood - Top 100”.
The Cosmic Blood Badge was unique in all of that Badges that Alistair had heard of in that it expanded his slots by one automatically, requiring no Upgrade Points. Fuhao told him she didn’t know the exact details of what each Badge got, but she knew for a fact the top Badges were amazing.
“The guy in first place is the only person to not have died a single time,” she told him. “They’re calling him the future of the Disputed Shard.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Alistair groaned internally. “His name wouldn’t happen to be Red Harmonia, would it?”
“Who?”
That’s a pleasant surprise. “Never mind.”
“Someone to watch out for?” she asked him.
“You could say that again,” he said. “What were you saying about the amount of enemies?”
“There are five total combatants, the last being… special,” she said.
Alistair gave her a quizzical look. “Special, how?”
“That would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it?” she laughed. “Sorry to end this meeting early, but my time is almost up.”
“How soon?”
“In the next ten seconds.”
“Ah,” Alistair said. “In that case, good luck. I have to imagine we’ll see each other soon enough at the sect.”
“Oh, undoubtedly,” Fuhao said. “Take—”
Before the jade beauty finished her sentence, she disappeared. In one moment, she was in front of Alistair, and in the next, nothing. Not a hint of her aura, and no indication from any of his senses she was about to go.
It seemed that the noblewoman left a gift for him, an azure disc the size of his palm that looked like a CD. The disc floated gingerly onto his hand, where it was ever so slightly repelled by his innate aura, floating a whisker above his skin.
Alistair spent the next couple of minutes toying around with the disc. Its purpose wasn’t immediately obvious, but after noodling his Mana around the internal pathways, he came to an interesting conclusion.
The disc wasn’t some secret manual, or guarded informational missive. No, it was a mixtape. At least, the cosmic version of one. And the star was Gu Fuhao, as Alistair heard what was unmistakably her voice in perfect fidelity, as if she were really there.
“Definitely follows a Dao of Music,” Alistair noted. “Her voice is something else.”
“Focus on the battle ahead,” Dev'rox snorted. “Do you want to get your ass beat again?”
Alistair didn’t respond to that, instead focusing inward. Dev'rox was right about taking the fake Atavius seriously. So, he mapped out a path to victory. He didn’t know if it would work a hundred percent, but that’s why they had the extra lives, right?
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Atavius always went with the same opening salvo. The implosion field of firebombs that turned Alistair’s world into a sea of flames.
It wasn’t fair in the slightest. First of all, the programmed Atavius could activate his finishing Skill at the very start of the duel, whereas Alistair was constrained by his reactions. Second and perhaps more importantly, according to the information from Fuhao, the Meloi scion always had access to his Skills. No cooldowns for him.
After his hour of preparation, Alistair decided not to go for [Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva Judgment] right away. When he appeared back in the arena of darkness, he was already running through Tranquil Mind.
The small difference in reaction time allowed him a single moment to [Dash]. One of those Hall of Mathematics scrolls had said that combat between cultivators was either over in the blink of an eye or lasted a fortnight. While that was obviously an exaggeration, he did come to a better understanding of that concept as his legs pumped with Mana and flickered to his target destination.
Alistair’s Karmic sight wasn’t effective as the threads of Fate were already burnt from the future potential of the encompassing fires, but that didn’t stop him from his singular purpose. He even added a tinge of Dev'rox’s Mana, just in case. Unfortunately, unlike his Mana, Dao energy, and nue, his Karma and Dev'rox’s reserves didn’t refill.
I suppose that’s what I get for being so greedy, Alistair thought. He really did have a hand in a diverse set of methods.
Yet despite his immense velocity, the flames acted first. In a speed that should have been impossible, the explosions intensified, incinerating Alistair when his fist was a hair’s breadth away from making contact with Atavius’s cheek.
There was nothing. Alistair came to in the same room as before, gasping for air as his body was turned inside out. This time, he had no company.
“We underestimated that,” Dev'rox said. Alistair was certainly jealous that the imp wasn’t affected by the revival process like he was. “Tell me you understand, brat?”
“It’s a dominion Skill,” Alistair replied, rising to a sitting position. “It has to be for that level of control.”
Dev'rox tsked. “All those senses and you didn’t recognize the change near his body? The dominion Skill was seamlessly layered on top of a proto-Domain. That’s why it altered and became stronger when you got close.”
“So should I fight fire with fire, then?”
“Hmm, perhaps not yet,” Dev'rox answered. “We want to save [Thousand-Armed Bodhisattva Judgment] since the enemies are going to keep getting stronger.”
Alistair was kind of embarrassed that his hour of preparation had led to getting obliterated even faster than last time, but he supposed it was to be expected when trying to deal with an opponent’s finishing Skill without using his own.
This time, he had two hours to review the information gleamed in the previous instance, and formulate a new stratagem.
Alistair breathed in deep and found himself in new territory—Infinite Arsenal.
While the concept that became Infinite Arsenal was represented by a sea of knives floating in the sky, his new state was something beyond that. Instead of becoming surrounded by knives, he was the weapon. Unlike Tranquil Mind, the effects of Infinite Arsenal were outwardly visible, with a thin silver layer spreading all over Alistair’s skin.
The change was not only external. If Tranquil Mind ceased all attachments to the outside world, Infinite Arsenal made him hyperfocus on combat. Every single ounce of brainpower was solely devoted to specific calculations, like he was a pugilist supercomputer.
In the next instant, he was back in the arena. Already he had been going through hundreds of opening salvos, trying to find the proper starting point. Infinite Arsenal was unlike tranquil Mind in that it took a comparatively long amount of time to go through the vast array of possibilities. In the end, his calculations led to a conclusion he most likely would never have come up with on his own.
Alistair started off with a [Dash] once more. Unsurprisingly, without his improved reaction time, he was slower than before. Dev'rox added his own Mana, but Atavius’s flames would reach them far before they could get within striking range.
That was where Alistair’s new idea came in. Seeing Spiritual Fighter’s Echo allowed him to contemplate the mystery of Dao energy and understand proto-Domains more fully. While he didn’t understand fully how it all broke down, from his past experiences with proto-Domains he knew that it had to do with immanentizing the Dao.
Alistair didn’t quite understand where the spark of inspiration came from, but in his meditations, he became drawn to the inner workings of his soulcore. The serrated, Klein bottle-esque organ was fundamentally intractable to Alistair, at least at that point. But somehow, like he was learning to ride a bike, he was able to etch a minuscule space within the interior of his soulcore.
The beginnings of a proto-Domain. Alistair wasn’t even close to finishing, but he didn’t need an enormous space. All he wanted was a small layer, merely covering the skin.
Time seemed to slow down as Alistair sprinted toward his target. Burning explosions washed out his field of vision, but he didn’t stop. Even as the flames emitted heat that made him sweat even through the veneer of Dao energy around his body, he aimed his fist forward.
Alistair combined [Frozen Claw] with [Hand of Karma], crimson Karmic energy surrounding ice affinity Mana that steamed with the environment of fire.
His attack was potentially suicidal—Alistair didn’t know if the dominion Skill would continue after Atavius died. But he guessed that didn’t matter—the last fight instantly ended after he killed Kalgur.
The flames became hottest within two meters of the blond cultivator. Alistair felt his skin melt, the beginnings of his proto-Domain not even close to strong enough to ward off the extreme heat. Even the added insulation of Mammothskin Raiment could only hold off so much.
As the flesh fell off his limbs, the Devilsbane Gauntlet connected with Atavius’s face.
Karmic energy flooded his spiritual network, aided by the cold of [Frozen Claw]. As a long distance fighter, Atavius’s defenses weren’t able to cope with the sudden infusion of energy, his body freezing from the inside out.
After that, it was a matter of time to see who would perish first. One in fire, one in ice.
Alistair held out with all his willpower. In his moment of stress, he was somehow able to produce ice affinity Mana from his entire body, like it was a natural leakage. It only helped a tiny amount, but perhaps that small change was what let him survive.
Alistair almost didn’t even recognize the change. In one moment his body was melting off his skeleton, and in the next he was fully healed with his energy pools back to full.
While physically he was completely fine, psychologically he wasn’t prepared. A current of energy flowed through his body, withering him away to nothingness.
Alistair came to in the white room. The scent of the entropic Mana was still fresh in his mind. A familiar scent. Anthony Ricci’s time affinity Mana.
----------------------------------------
Through trial and error, Alistair vanquished the next two opponents in the circuit. It turned out that despite being weaker, Atavius was his worst match-up. Because, like an automaton, he always started the fight with an enormous area of denial attack, Alistair’s speed and versatility was much less effective.
He was able to defeat Anthony with only one more death. Going back to Tranquil Mind, he deftly weaved in between the time cultivator’s beams of entropic radiation, as well as the massive hand from [Warden of Time]. Always staying on top of Anthony, he won through the cuts of a thousand blows.
The next opponent was Dragonus, another fire user. Fortunately, he didn’t start out with a huge attack like Anthony, instead opting for his flaming pillar of the false Heavens. Alistair died three times, though not because of his own weakness, but because of Dragonus’s overwhelming power.
According to the information he obtained when he used [Eyes of Truth], this Dragonus was level 70. Alistair was outstatted by the Devil King, especially with his current soft cap. But as he gained experience and applied his guile, he was able to overcome the difference in stats, ending the fight with a sequence of twenty rapid fire punches.
At last, Alistair was at the final opponent. He couldn’t help but feel a tingling of nerves as he wondered how exactly this last foe would be “special.”
There was a longer build up this time, instead of being thrust right into the moment. The moment after he defeated Dragonus, he felt a shift underneath in the inky pools.
In the blink of an eye, Alistair flew into the air to the delight of the crowd, who buzzed with such vigor that they created a light show.
A translucent blue bubble grew into a sphere with a diameter of over ten meters. Alistair moved his body within the bubble, realizing that this was no ordinary playing field. Wherever he moved, it was like he was walking on a plane at that exact orientation.
The strangest part was that it was only when he willed it. If he moved his foot upward with the intention to step, he could literally walk on empty air. However, if he moved his leg to kick, nothing would change. It was as if he was in a field of optimized movement, calibrated to perfection for a melee fighter as himself.
Beep. An electronic screen popped up, showing Alistair versus his opponent. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but the image that popped up was not in his expectations at all. Himself.
A perfect replica of Alistair stood on solid air, staring him down. A chill ran down his body as he perceived the clone with all of his senses. Nothing was off. In all respects that he could understand, this system-wrought doppelganger was in fact himself.
That was with one exception—his clone didn’t seem to have any of Alistair’s hangups regarding the strange scenario. While its original was still fazed, the clone shot forth with a [Dash].
Alistair being shocked by his own speed was a surprise. It wasn’t as fun being on the receiving end of someone who had almost 900 Agility.
Through his battle-honed instincts, he put up a hand to guard the incoming punch, but the explosive force ricocheted his own hand into his face, sending him flying backward. Alistair bounced against the blue force field with enough impact to rattle his bones.
Then came the ghostly afterimage. His own Spiritual Fighter’s Echo walloped his cheek, seemingly unavoidable, and he careened sideways. By orienting his feet and imagining he was against a flat surface, he held himself midair.
The other Alistair didn’t miss the opportunity. With glowing crimson eyes, the signature of [Eyes of Truth] scared the hell out of the original, appearing with a flicker to his right. In the moment before everything turned white, he saw the crimson hand that had prevented him from sensing the attack.
Alistair once again woke up in the waiting room.