“Rocky landing?!” Hunter's world spun like a whirlwind, his limbs twisting in impossible directions. Eyes squeezed shut, he saw colors unknown to man dancing behind his lids, churning his stomach into a stormy sea. His breathing became his anchor, inhaling to slow the effects as his own core pulsated with the rippling waves of time and space.
“Please let this be the worst of it.”
After what seemed like an eternity, he reached a calming cycle of breath.
Bam! His breath hitched with a sudden slam of cold hard rock into his backside. He winced in pain and rolled over to his side, coughing, trying to suck in any air—the sharp pain stabbing his chest.
Squinting his eyes open, he wretched all over the gray boulder.
His head pounded even more with the coppery scent of blood flooding his nostrils. With the back of his hand, he wiped clean the vomit from his mouth and dabbed his nose. He cocked an eye further open to inspect his wrist. There was no blood on him.
The nearby screams forced his eyes open wide, and he blinked away the blurred vision.
He slid off the boulder, the unweathered edge scraping his thighs and bare ass as his shoeless feet pressed against the cold grass.
Glancing back at where he landed, he searched for any shred left of his clothes. “Shit Claude, you could have warned me.” He touched the only thing he still wore, his storage ring where he thankfully kept a spare pair of pants.
His jaw dropped.
“Where’s my loot?” He closed his inventory and reopened it, but nothing, no weapon, no clothes, no coins. The nearby screams he’d thought he heard were replaced by battle cries and the clanging of metals.
He knelt, finally becoming aware of his surroundings when the source for the smell of freshly spilled blood hit him like a sack of rocks to the gut. Tugging on the black boots from the slain body that lay beside him, he also freed the blood-stained pants. He grimaced as he grasped the body’s still-warm hand away from the curved sword.
Hustling to put the clothes on, he turned around with a resonating battle cry from an armored man wearing a golden-horned helmet, leading a pack of angry soldiers further into a blood-soaked battlefield.
“How in Hades will I find the next initiate in a battlefield twice the size of Delphare city?” He inhaled, gripping the sword and charged, following the path of onslaught already made. Scanning the warriors, each was as fierce as the next, but one cut their way through faster, hacking and slashing through the enemy lines without hesitation or sign of fear.
With a combination of skilled sword attacks, the warrior grasped a lone horse and leapt onto it bareback, launching himself into an impressive assault, straight for another soldier clad in exquisite armor.
Hunter hurried closer, stepping over the fallen soldiers and maintaining the higher ground away from the battle.
The warrior vaulted himself from the horse, tackling the lead general to the ground, and sliced his throat. With a quick movement, the warrior held up the general’s head, yelling with victorious might and joined by his fellow warriors.
“Bravo?” Hunter’s eyes widened with awe, impressed by the warrior’s finesse. He focused his aura on him, picking up a Pre-Refiner cultivation base, but he paused, raising a brow at the sense of the strange energy he now knew all too well. “Raw, unrefined Dark plasma blended with chi?”
Cultivators back home with an affinity for Dark plasma were shunned, thought to have been gifted the fate of a demon bloodline, hailed from Hades himself. He glanced around, but here, wherever this was, the fearless warrior was deemed worthy.
He approached with slow, steady steps, hoping not to lose sight of this warrior. His heart raced as the warrior tossed the severed head across the silent battlefield. The warrior’s bloodied hand removed his helmet.
Long dark hair fell down in waves from a loosened top knot framing fine features and fierce pitch eyes behind long dark lashes.
Hunter's eyes widened, his chi-enhanced vision drinking in every detail. "Well, I'll be damned. Bravo indeed, and she's a woman." He exhaled a half-relieved, half-awkward chuckle. "Thank the gods I'm not standing here naked. That would've been one hell of a first impression."
***
The Portalier lounged back in his cozy deck chair while countless stars winked down at him from above. Each one a story, with the constellations whispering tales since the dawn of time.
Grinning, he sipped his Pineapple Delight. It always tasted so much sweeter after a job well done. And right now, he was basking in all the good news GATO had relayed to him.
“Cheers GATO.” He raised the delicious cocktail she’d made for him in her honor. “I’m so happy to hear Hunter has beaten the odds and become the hero of his own story.”
GATO’s pointy ears twitched as she whisked past him spinning in happy circles, her neon pink eyes brighter than the stars above.
I do love happy endings, Sir! Although Hunter’s real journey is only beginning, I am so curious about his first travel destination. Such an interesting time to be alive. I wonder how Hunter will adjust, traveling over a thousand years into the future.
The Portalier placed his drink down and leaned forward, both hands on his lap. “Over a thousand years, is just a blink of the eye to the gods, but you and I both know a lot can change in such a time span. Where was he sent to find the next initiate?
420 A.D., China, Earth Variation: Delta -7X
The Portalier smiled. “How about we take a sneak peek to see how he’s getting on.”
GATO stopped spinning, her big round pink eyes narrowing.
As long as that’s all it is. I will agree to give you the predicted coordinates where you are most likely to detect the micro portal that connects us to Hunter’s current location. Then I’ll cast a projection so you can watch him from the comfort of your deck chair.
The Portalier knew what GATO really meant. She had greater insights as to what they would find there than he did. And GATO knew he was less likely to do anything rash while watching from a distance.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The Portalier gave a firm nod. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
That’s probably for the best, Sir, given you’re all out of Goddess Summoning Tokens. I’ve transferred the coordinates to you.
GATO fell silent while the Portalier adjusted his goggles to ensure a snug fit. Tapping the coordinates she sent on his viewer he searched that section of the night sky until he found the thread-like crack that indicated the presence of a micro portal.
Once he activated the micro portal, GATO set to work projecting a clear image of Hunter’s location onto a large screen. While the Portalier waited for the hazy picture to resolve he thought about what he might see.
The Portalier snorted a laugh. “Thanks for your help GATO. And don’t worry, even if the poor boy’s running stark naked through the battlefield, you have my word, I won’t interfere.”
Well Sir, it’s funny you should say that…
With that the micro portal opened and the projected image sharpened to reveal a world in chaos. So many bodies strewn across the battlefield, rivers of blood looked like gaping wounds in the scorched earth.
Screams and battle cries echoed as the golden armored might of the ruling Emperor was challenged by the demon emperor’s army clad in black and red armor that seemed to swallow the meager sunlight. Their weapons dripping with Dark plasma clashed against their enemies' chi-infused blades.
It looked like Hell on Earth.
The Portalier sprang to his feet. “I was joking, why the hell is he as naked as the day he was born?”
Given his current situation, it does seem rather inconvenient doesn’t it, Sir. But fear not Hunter is very resourceful. The god who sent him there may have a strict ‘nothing dead will go’ policy. It is rather smart if you ask me, he may not want to risk the movement of artifacts through space and time.
The Portalier crossed his arms and gave a grim nod. “So non-organic items including clothes stay behind when Hunter travels that way. At least he showed us time and again he’ll do what needs to be done to survive and I’m confident he’ll find the next initiate.”
They watched in grim silence, as Hunter, looking every bit the reluctant scavenger, swiped blood-stained clothes and armor from a fallen soldier. The armor hung awkwardly on him, the helmet lopsided, his hair a wild mess poking out.
Despite his disheveled appearance he grabbed a weapon and marched as if unfazed across the scorched earth while cultivators leapt and soared engaging in aerial duels that lit up the sky.
In the distance the emperor’s army armor shimmered in the failing sunlight, reflecting a stark contrast against the dark twisted forms of the demonic army.
No matter how long the Portalier lived he’d never get used to witnessing the level of death and destruction wars brought. It was a bitter pill to swallow that he was powerless to intervene.
GATO looked away as a demon warrior savaged his enemy, leaving headless corpses and entrails spilling onto the ground where he lay.
Perhaps she too had seen too much. The grisly scene, all too familiar, reminding them both of the Portalier’s own brush with death on that zombie-ridden hellhole. His story didn’t end there thanks to the last Goddess Summoning Token he’d used to restore his life.
I think we’ve had our fill of this bloodbath, don't you think, Sir. There are other stories requiring your attention. It’s up to you which one you choose next.
GATO’s forthright voice rang clear as a bell in his mind but her tone held a hint of weariness.
You have Kolter in The Final Alliance and that other poor chap climbing that monster infested mountain that still needs your help.
The Portalier grumbled, his frustration bubbling under his cool facade. “Hold your horses, GATO. Let's not jump the gun. I want to see how our boy Hunter fares in this mess.” He scratched his head, stalling, his mind racing with the possibilities of Hunter's fate. He’d sleep much better knowing Hunter’s first meeting with the new initiate went as well as he hoped.
And there, in the thick of chaos, Hunter stood mesmerized by a warrior who seemed to embody war itself. “Wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of that one,” he muttered under his breath, half-impressed, half-terrified.
GATO didn’t watch. Instead, she removed his empty glass and began cleaning the area, humming a cheerful ditty.
The Portalier couldn’t tear his eyes away as the warrior dismounted with deadly grace, dispatching a general with swift, brutal efficiency. It was poetry in motion, if poetry was written with blood and iron.
When the warrior removed her helmet, revealing a fierce woman with a glare that could cut steel, the Portalier smiled in amusement at Hunter’s shock and awe.
Her dark hair cascaded around her battle-hardened face, a stark contrast to Hunter's surprised, and somewhat ridiculous, appearance.
Her blade sharp gaze snapped to Hunter. Marching over with the force of a typhoon, her hand flew up in a swift, stinging slap across his face.
"Junior, you dare!" Her voice boomed with authority and sharp rebuke. "Such dishonor, appearing on this revered battlefield as if you plundered the fallen and clothed yourself with your eyes closed. Have some respect!” Her eyes scanned his ill-fitted armor with a warrior's disdain. "Fix that helmet! It's dangling like a drunkard's chin. And your hair! Tame it. This is a battlefield, not some back-alley brawl.”
Hunter, caught off guard, whipped off his helmet, revealing his shaggy mop.
She recoiled as if struck by an invisible force. “By the spirits! What have you done to your mane? A cultivator's hair is their honor, their battle standard! Chopping it off is like discarding your own valor. Are you mocking the sacred path of the cultivator?”
Hunter shrugged off her dramatic outburst. “In my world, we don’t measure a warrior’s worth by the length of their hair. It’s the skill with the blade that counts.” He gave her a look, half-amused, half-defiant.
She eyed him like he was some deluded animal. "Your world? You've either banged your head or your demon-human transformation's scrambled your brains, junior."
Hunter shook his head. “I'm no demon. A god flung me across time and space to find you."
The half-demon warrior's fist balled up, her aura seeping out with a subtle, deadly promise. “Demon or strange looking human, it matters not. You must be out of your mind or the boldest fool I’ve ever met to challenge me.”
Unfazed by her aura bristling with murderous intent, Hunter smirked. "Could be a bit of both. But something tells me you're intrigued, or else I'd be dead already."
She snorted dismissively. "Intrigued? You're dripping with arrogance."
Hunter's grin only grew. "You've got war experience and Dark plasma strength, sure. But your chi energy channels are all blocked up. What a waste. Think how much more powerful you'd be with control over both chi and Dark plasma."
Her eyes narrowed on him and she leaned in close. “How in the Eight Cold Hells can a whelp like you read my aura.”
“I’ve had some practice thanks to the god I mentioned. Before I met him I had yet to enter the first stage of cultivation or have any aura control. He sent me here to offer you the same benefits he offered me.”
She raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I think you have read too many stories. I’m half-demon. Gods don’t hand out favors to our kind.”
Hunter nodded. “You’re right but Claude is not your run-of-the-mill god. He sees potential where others see problems.” He flashed a smile that was all charm. “Says your chi is like a wild horse that just needs a bit of taming.”
The Portalier grinned at the boy’s bluff.
Battle cries echoed close by, signaling that the brief lull was coming to an end.
Her eyes flashed crimson before darkening. “So a god sent you, dressed like you looted a corpse just to help me tame my chi. If you have any hope of convincing me anything you said is true, start by proving you’re no paper tiger.” She looked at him with scrutinized, narrow eyes as she lit a thinly rolled cigar and puffed out a stream of smoke. “Survive the battle and we can talk.”
The Portalier rubbed his jaw. “Hunter’s no paper tiger, he's much stronger than he looks.”
“No problem.” Hunter spun his blood smeared glaive, ready for battle. “Surviving is for those who play it safe. We’re not just defying a system anymore, we’re forging a new one.”
With a satisfied sigh, The Portalier turned to GATO.
“Hunter’s on the right path. I’m ready to move on.”
GATO bowed. I’m glad to hear that, sir. Given the challenges he is set to face, it’s a good thing Hunter is not your typical storybook hero.