After circling Granny’s shop for the fifteenth time, he approached the backyard while expecting to be ambushed. Even as he knocked on the window to Granny’s lab, no elite palace guards revealed themselves. He heard annoyed shouting from inside and Granny entered the lab. When she saw him in his current state, she hurried over and tore open the window. “Boy, what did you do? Why don’t you have any arms? What did you do with your left leg? Why aren’t you bleeding?”
Granny hyperventilated and Res put a calming hand on hers. “Don’t worry about the legs, that is a drawback of an aether technique. I can grow them back. My problem is the wound on my throat.”
Granny took a deep breath and put on a professional facade. “All right, lie down right there.”
From inside the building, Res could hear Eurora’s voice asking what is going on. When Granny told her to come, Jason sighed and cursed in a downbeat tone.
“Bro, you know what? We are fucked. Fucked sideways. From the front and the back. We are simultaneously having a reverse French and an Alabama hot pocket. That is how fucked we are. We are so fucked that we will be pregnant. Res, you can throw the dream of living a solitary and peaceful life in the garbage bin now.”
Res wanted to ask why Jason had turned so pessimistic when Eurora entered the room. She froze when she saw Res lying on a stretcher. At first, he thought she was surprised to see him in his injured state or at all.
When she gasped out: “Ghostbound”, Res knew that Jason had been spot on.
Granny continued rummaging inside various herb racks and created a quick paste. When she was about to smear it on his neck wound, she paused and asked: “What is that white goo?”
“Bro, tell her to dump the paste into the wound. I know what disinfecting and cleaning paste is and how it works. Had to use it plenty in my lifetime.”
He asked Granny to put the paste in his wound and after some protest, Granny did so. Res felt the goo moving in around, spreading the paste, and pushing out dirt. Eurora had sat down on the floor and was staring at him in horror. Granny applied a lesser healing potion on his neck. His flesh shifted around until, after five minutes, the wound finally closed. Taking in a deep breath, Res sat up and faced the two terrified old women. “I can explain this.”
That wasn’t what the southerner lady wanted to hear. “You can explain this? You are a monster. You are worse than a ghostbound – You are a ghost. You should be dead. No ghostbound can control the ghost so skillfully, except if the human mind was pushed out.”
Still not giving up on a peaceful solution, Res asked. “What can I do so we go our separate ways, happy?”
Eurora clutched a crystal at her necklace. “You will come with us. We have a place for your sort.”
Granny seemed torn and, with the agreement of Jason, he explained the situation to both of them. The old woman would track down his background, anyway. “I went to check my potential at the royal testing crystal and a ghost possessed me. We are working together now.”
Jason cried out in frustration when he said that. When he looked up, he saw that Eurora had gone several shades paler. Now she was clinging to her skirts as if she was about to die. Her necklace shone with brilliant white aether and vanished. She bared her teeth at him and hissed: “Enjoy your last moments on this plain, ghost. I have put one of our best-trained ghostbound onto your trail. For occasions like this, we have ghosthounds in every country. You can’t escape him. He will follow you like a wolf until he finally banishes you to the afterlife you deserve.”
She closed her eyes as if she was ready for him to do something.
“Bro, you picked the worst option out there. I don’t want to play mister obvious but you are pretty fucked. Sorry if I hurt your feelings, but you are no fucking match for a ghostbound who has trained since he was four years old. If I were you, I would get my ass out of this place asap.”
Following Jason’s advice, he backed up two steps and said to Granny: “I promise it isn’t like you think it is. I have been and always will be honest with you. I will come back and explain everything, but that lady screwed me up royally.”
With a last wave to the horrified Granny, Res pushed himself out into the open. “Where to go, brother?”
“Bro, the only place where you will find shelter from such a monster, is in some official building. The southerner kingdom could kill you in the palace, but what about an embassy?”
Res groaned. “You know that the monster back in the tunnel probably was Xenia’s brother?”
Jason added in a conversational tone: “I haven’t told you? Ahhh … I am like one hundred percent sure that it was her brother. He stood at the edge of the pit for five minutes while talking about ‘reclaiming family honor’.”
Res began to sweat as he was zipping across rooftops. “I prefer the sewers.”
“Don’t delude yourself, bro. It is not a matter of if he will find you, but when he will find you. Imagine them like human machines that are trained from birth to only find and kill people. The brother is the better choice – at least you can reason with him.”
With a goal in mind, he pushed himself in the direction of the palace grounds. When he finally arrived, he could spot elite palace guards watching the perimeter. For half an hour, he sat on a roof, thinking about how he could get into the manner unnoticed when something clicked. He dropped to street level and rolled himself on the dirty road. With glee, he shredded his clothing and smeared dirt all over his face.
“Bro, have you finally gone crazy?”
“Don’t you see it? I don’t match any of their descriptions now. I am a beggar without his left leg and arm.”
Walking without hovering was more difficult than he had imagined. It took him a quarter-hour to crawl towards the entrance. When he was there, he opened himself to the bond and found that both Serafina and Xenia were still in the manner. He felt grief and anger through their bond and tried to send feelings of happiness and welcoming to them. The guards at the door told him to: “fuck off else you will lose your other extremities.”
Res continued to send feelings of happiness and urgency through their bond. Just before one of the men went to rough him up, a maid jogged out from the manner, shouting: ‘Stop’. The guards did so, and the maid curtseyed before him. “My mistress is so graceful as to offer her hospitality to a sick man.”
Without asking him whether he accepted, the maid dragged him into the manner. Apparently, she hadn’t been clued in why she needed to collect a beggar from the street. He had to be scrubbed clean and got new simple clothes. Within the manner, he allowed himself to use aether and walking got a lot easier. Finally, he was led up several stairways and into the dining room. A long table filled up the room and an enormous glass chandelier hang on the ceiling. On the table made for sixty people, sat two young women with red-rimmed eyes who began to cry when they saw him.
Serafina and Xenia looked like they had gone through hell recently. Xenia’s usually braided hair was a complete mess and Serafina’s calm demeanor had vanished. Most important of all, both of their faces were streaked with tears. It felt wrong, so he gathered the image of the quirky Xenia and the clever Serafina. With a sigh, he pushed them through their mental links. For good measure, he added how he was drawn in by Xenia’s eyes and character and Serafina’s wit and intelligence. Both of them broke down even further and Xenia stood up from her chair and ran over to him. She pushed the maid out of the way and hugged him. Serafina followed her lead and soon both of them were clinging to him as if he was their only lifeline. Through their mental link, they shared not what they had thought in the last hours, but what they had felt.
“Bro, I don’t want to interrupt your happy reunion, but look up.”
As always, Jason’s advice was lifesaving. When he looked up, he saw an unassuming man in his late thirties in an army uniform. The man’s eyes promised a painful death and Res didn’t doubt that for a second. Having learned from Jason that backing down wouldn’t help him, he continued to stare into the man’s eyes. He put on his best winning smile and offered his hand: “My name is Res if it wasn’t already obvious. You must be Akeem.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Akeem’s army uniform deformed and his biceps grew to be the size of a watermelon. Before Xenia could protest, Akeem clamped down on his hand, but Res only continued to smile.
Xenia punched her brother’s chest. “Is this how you treat guests? Let him at least eat and tell his side of the story.”
Akeem harrumphed and his arm shrunk back to its original size. Res watched the transformation of Akeem’s arm with fascination. He remembered Jason’s saying: ‘If you let people talk about what they like, they will like you.’. Acting in accordance with that principle, he asked: “Can you do that with every body part? I suppose it could come in handy.”
Akeem turned away, but Res could see the smug smile on his face. “It works on every muscle if that is what you mean.”
Remembering back to the fact that Xenia's brother was a drunkard, Res added: “I have heard that alcohol is stored in the muscles. You must be a good drinker. I own a famous restaurant in town, ‘el ristorante’, and for you, all drinks will be free.”
The prince couldn’t hide his eyes from lighting up with interest as he sat down. “Are you telling me you own THE ‘el ristorante’? The restaurant or bar to which you can’t even get any entry tokens right now?”
“Exactly that one.”
The prince slammed his hand on the table and hooted out loud. “I am starting to like you.”
His expression switched to anger and he leaned towards him. “But don’t think you will get off like that.”
A chill ran down Res’s spine as he looked into the same deep blue eyes that Xenia had.
“Bro, if you only cultivate via air, I may be able to help you with passive cultivation. You need to give me the reigns when you are done. Those two are our girls and I won’t let that asshole take my babe away from me.”
Adhering to the option of not backing down, Res fell into aether cultivation. Spurred on by the threat sitting in front of him, he spread his influence as far as he could through the air. He pulled until the air finally gave in and aether trickled into his body. He pushed the trickle of aether to Jason, who continued cultivating. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Akeem looking at him with surprise while the two girls stared at him in awe.
When he looked down at his left arm, one could see how small aether light particles zipped towards his body. Making the best of the situation, he waved it away. “Those are some fancy light tricks. Don’t mind them.”
The girls didn’t seem to think so, and Serafina picked at the new-formed flesh. “It feels real.”
“It is real. I only got into a fight by accident.”
Akeem laughed wholeheartedly. “Shit, I can’t dislike you. On the one hand, I have been sent to castrate you, but you are a likable guy.”
The room went dead silent at that, and Res stared at Akeem in horror. Akeem rubbed the back of his head and said. “We can’t have little princess babies running around. Life as a consort isn’t that bad.”
Xenia looked at him significantly while Serafina turned stone-faced. “If you don’t want to tell me what happened, we will have lots of time to get to know each other.
“Everyone knew something that he didn’t and Res didn’t like that.
“What do you mean?”
Serafina looked at him with compassion in her eyes. “You don’t have to talk about it. Torture, especially in the royal dungeon, is traumatizing.”
Now, his entire world made no sense. “Who got tortured?", Res asked dumbly. Serafina looked more unsure now:
“You got tortured, didn’t you? The prince captured and tortured you. You don’t have to be ashamed of that.”
Res’s eyebrows nearly touched the ceiling and his eyes were widened in pure confusion. When Xenia saw his reaction, she hyperventilated. “We reached out to you and …”
“I was in a street fight supporting a revolution to demand better treatment for street children.”
*BANG*
Before Res knew it; Akeem split the table in half by an enormous hand chop. A frustrated roar resounded through the room. “That bastard! Once again! Once again!”
Res watched in horror as Akeem demolished one chair after another. When he was finished with the furniture, he pounded enormous holes into the wall and floor. When he had pretty much beat up the entire room, he deflated his muscles. Calmly, he picked up a half-broken chair from the ground. With a terrifying smile, he took a seat once again. Still, rage emanated from his crystal blue eyes. Xenia ran over to her brother, buried her head in his chest and cried. It felt like Res was in some surreal alternate reality, as he watched the proceedings.
Finally, Xenia explained: “The prince visited me after you fled from the cellar. He told me he had captured you and now held you hostage in their royal dungeon. The captain of my guard saw with his own eyes how hundreds of elite palace guards shot at you.”
Res supposed that it could have looked like that. Xenia had collected herself and was now sitting on Akeem’s lap. “The prince said that I would need to sign a document that permitted me from marrying for twenty years. Else he would torture you to death. The blood bond is not only a strength but also a weakness. You can hurt all the participants of the bond if someone gets hurt. It is instinctual to reach out for any help and convey your pain. I didn’t want you to get hurt, neither did Akeem want me to experience mental trauma. So, I signed it. I have one question: Is it true that you will participate in the king’s tournament?”
The last question caught Res completely off guard and he stared at Xenia. “You mean THE king’s tournament?”
“There isn’t another one, dummy.”
“Are you crazy? Firstly: How do you know the king will die? Secondly: It is forbidden to participate in the king’s tournament and if you survive, you are executed. Thirdly: The king’s tournament is batshit crazy. Because the prince is competing, I don’t have a chance of winning, anyway. It is rumored that participants once had to fight through a jungle full of zombies. Fourthly, the losers are stripped of all their aether cultivation. No, thank you.”
Jason used the following silence to interject: “I have actually helped set the test up. I can not tell you anything specific, but our chances aren’t that bad. As king, you could relax all you want and instantiate a puppet king, so we can go whoring and killing monsters. That’s life.”
Res sent feelings of irritation through their mental link and Xenia spoke up. “The prince thinks you will compete for the kingdom of Osma to conquer Trianon.”
Res scratched the back of his head. “He does? Well, I didn’t plan to die after I lose my cultivation. I wouldn’t make a good king, anyway.”
Serafina stepped forward and looked at him with her beautiful brown eyes. “If the prince is so confident you would pose a significant threat, you must be able to defeat him.”
Jason stopped Res from giving a response: “Bro, look out the windows. The elite palace guards are retreating. That isn’t a good sign.”
Indeed, the elite guards stationed at Xenia’s manner all left in the direction of the palace grounds. Serafina continued talking, but Res’s eyes were focused on tens of other forms flying above the cities. The elite guards were retreating to the palace. When Xenia blurted out: “We can come, too.”, Res’s attention was pulled back to the discussion. “That is not a good idea. You two should stay here.”
Akeem nodded along and Serafina glowered at both of them: “Do you think we can’t defend ourselves?”
She brandished her Katana, and the princess pulled out a dagger. On closer inspection, it resembled more of an ornate butter knife. Suddenly, something poked at Res. It was some prodding at his … aether cultivation? Jason had noticed too and was retracting his influence.
“Bro, someone has noticed our cultivation technique.” By now, he had half of his arm back. Akeem was still arguing with the two girls about whether they should enter the tournament. Jason’s voice sounded horse and scared like Res had never heard him before. “Bro, look at the gate.”
Immediately, his gaze locked onto a slim figure with a grey cloth veil obscuring his face in front of the gate. When their gazes met, shivers of fear went down his spine as he looked into the eyes of a true killer. He backed away several steps, but the figure seemed content to wait outside for now. Inwardly, he asked: “Jason, what does the tournament do with my body?”
“You are actually teleported to another dimension. I struck a deal with the klengan’s. They are friendly folks and they organize the entire thing. You are especially lucky, because …” Jason coughed but regained his voice a moment later. “Sorry, I forgot that I can’t tell you anything I experienced after my lifetime. Let’s leave it at that. I would choke to death if I would tell you more than this.”
Res cursed the entity that restricted what ghost could tell mortals and announced: “You are right. I will take part in the king’s tournament.”
Akeem smiled and clapped him roughly on the shoulder. “Great. Look, ladies, we have solved the problem. He will go to the tournament without needing you two to babysit him.”
Xenia crossed her arms in front of her sizeable chest. “I will go.”
It held a resolute tone and Serafina positioned herself next to her in a similar pose. As hard as Res tried to stop himself, his eyes were magically drawn to her athletic body. Serafina noticed his stare and reddened. Instead of reddening himself, he searched deep within himself for the reason for that action. Vincent back in the palace had told him of such problems, but he had never experienced them. Finally, he resolved to think about that later. When he returned his focus to reality, he realized that he had continued staring at Serafina and her face complexion had turned beet-red.
Now even he was blushing. It wasn’t like he didn’t give a passing glance at body structure, but the assessment had always been without second intentions. At least he thought he did. He hoped he did. Akeem didn’t seem exactly pleased by his behavior. The awkward silence was broken by rumbling from the ground. Enormous amounts of aether were drawn deep into the ground and intricate aether knotwork sprang up all across the city.
“Bro, the teleport arrays are activating. I can’t believe my stone casting is still working after eight hundred years.”
People on the street were running about in panic, and even the hooded ghostbound shifted about. Res turned to Serafina as a yellow glow surrounded everyone and Jason’s voice resounded in his head.
It sounded dull, but Jason’s unique speech pattern was unmistakable: “Yiihaaa, good day to you all. I hope I finally got this shitty teleport array working. The klengans should have written the user manual in English. Anyway, this is your chance to be king. Have you always dreamed of leaving your peasant live behind? Fear no more! I have the perfect solution for you! Think of the word ‘yes’ in your head and you will get the chance to become the next king of Trianon. You will fight all participants, but wit is also a key part of succeeding.”
Then the message looped itself. When Res looked outside, he could see the ghostbound had summoned a sand snake. Akeem and Serafin had both detected the use of aether and were now staring at the ghostbound. From the edges of his vision, he could see Xenia warping and vanish with a small *Pop*. He flashed the terrified Serafina and Akeem a grin and thought: ‘Yes’.