Alex took controlled deep breaths, fighting not to gasp like a bellows as he pushed himself and his restoration technique to the utmost, ignoring the fiery burn of muscles pushed to the absolute limit, before being pushed even harder.
He couldn’t hide his fierce grin when he saw the distant spec of wagons rapidly coming into sight as he closed, for all that he shivered at the howls he heard, snapping at his back.
“Qing Wu, trouble is coming our way!”
The words were a desperate gasp as a heaving Alex matched the pace of his mentor's wagon. And his exhausted state must have shown, when a fierce-looking Qing Wu wordlessly lifted a wheezing Alex and his charge on a disk of ice.
“What happened!?” he demanded, gazing at Alex with increasing alarm as Alex explained as best he could.
“Those monsters actually broke through my ice? So quickly?”
“They radiate death!” Snapped an incensed Reny, effortlessly plucking an unconscious Ya Ling from Alex’s grasp. “Proximity to the river’s deathly waters would kill any mortal or cultivator. Even memory’s echo of those waters is enough to send anyone without the steel of Silver in their veins into catatonia, especially when surrounded by those abominations.”
Her eyes practically crackled. “How dare you bring my niece into your foolish quest to prove yourself!” she snapped.
Alex winced, lowering his head. “I wasn’t expecting… but yes, I take full responsibility. I am sorry, Aunty, Reny, truly.”
She glared at him for long moments before jerking a nod. “Good. Now share uncle’s tea. It will give you strength for what’s to come.”
Qing Wu grunted in agreement, quietly passing Alex a flask of potent tea rich in spiritual herbs. Alex bowed gratefully and took a sip as Qing Wu glared into the distance.
“The ice should have held them until daylight at least.” The man sighed and shook his head. “In truth I thought it would last for days. Not a mere fraction of a glass!”
Alex took a second sip of the delightfully bitter brew. Feeling its infusion, though only minutes had past since his final kill, Potency Mastery giving him a vital surge. And despite the creeping dread he felt, gazing off into the darkness now filled with distant glowing eyes, glaring their way, he took fierce satisfaction as he sensed an impossibly distant super cable whirling about the event horizon of absolute darkness and truly monstrous speeds. Far faster than it ever had before, pushing him inexorably closer to Rank 7 along his Boundless Path, as the ether echoed with the silent screams of a once grotesquely bloated frame, now hideously withered, locked in stasis that turned awareness into the endless horror of Shalu’s life force being clawed free by the nemesis he had tormented and feared for countless thousands of years.
As if knowing this day would come.
When all he ever had to do to avoid this doom was to leave Alex the hell alone.
Alex flashed a bitter smile, still not sure if he was glimpsing through the cracks of existence or musing’s fancy, only knowing he had to hold tight to his mad, glorious insight of interlocking and ever strengthening elemental Qi.
Sensing its wonder at risk of leaving him even now, with nothing but vague perceptions left behind, even as he rode the cusp of a Sage’s Insight, wise enough to summon it forth once more, before he forgot a technique no doubt forbidden to any earth-bound mortal.
Yet this was just one more matter where he’d happily defy heavenly mandate, glorying in the sight of the brilliantly shimmering blade radiating a cutting stream of white-hot metal and obsidian shards, crackling with liquid lightning under such aqueous pressure it defied all words to describe. Before sensing its sudden cost, even as Qing Wu jerked back with a curse, gazing at Alex with an odd look of disbelief and wonder.
“How is it that you carry Long Wang’s blessing?”
Alex froze, glared at the man, but said nothing. Could afford to say nothing. Not when the revenants were even now closing, the fastest and deadliest taking the lead.
Just as Alex knew they would.
“Alex, where are you going!”
“I’m going to pick the fuckers off, one by one! Use your ice to freeze any that close!”
“Freezing is costly, and Ice won’t kill the dead!”
“You’re going to tell me you can’t modify those ice spears to cleave off a few knees? You don’t need to kill or freeze them. Just slow them down!”
“Questioning my techniques, are you? You think a spear is all I’m capable of? I’m still trying to get you to summon forth a single Ice Dagger! And you’d dare to teach this archer how to shoot!?” Alex caught the man cussing about the arrogance of youth, but he was too filled with terror and exhilaration to care, all his focus on the massive bundle of inky black tendrils, crimson eyes, and twisted mouths roaring and howling as it closed.
A half dozen other revenants radiating the power and peril the equivalent of cultivators a halfstep from Silver trailed the abomination in eerie concert, as eyes bitter with hate and ruthless focus readied their trap, showing just how fearsome was the difference between revenants mindless with pain, passion, and desperation, and those who managed to emerge with the same clever, ruthless personas that had allowed them to get into so much karmic trouble during their most recent lives lived.
It was perilous enough that Alex knew he was a dead man with Prismatic Blade alone, so risked nothing allowing it to fade for a single heartbeat, as his opponents gloated and charged as one.
Before snarling and roaring as half the number stumbled when sheets of black ice tore through their number, cleaving through torsos, limbs, and heads.
Yet the lead multilimbed abomination seemed to take no harm at all as first one then a second and third limb was sheered off, lashing out with a pair of thorned tendrils for Alex, now too close to dodge.
But not block as his Prismatic Shield abruptly flared to life, his momentary dismay at an insight fading like a dream at the cusp of wakefullness blazing in full as he unsheathed and struck with his dao in a single pristine movement.
It was a blow that would have been laughable, three feet of base steel, however hardened, against three yards of nightmare flesh, if it hadn’t been for the storm of lightning now blasting through the suddenly shrieking revenant.
You have successfully recalled Pristine Technique! (Note. Pristine technique is normally incompatible with mortal incarnations! Divine shell has been surrendered for mundus vessel upon rebirth!)
You have critically struck: Greater Abomination!
Greater Abomination has been stunned!
Prismatic Shield successfully parries Killing Blow!
Alex’s world became one of smashing limbs and desperate parries, weaving and dodging around the abomination striking for all it was worth, the pace hardly slowing as Alex’s tightly controlled swings managed to severe one limb off at a time, the creature growing ever more savvy at whipping its tendrils at odd angles, striking at two places at once, forcing a mad dash back, before snipping blows cleaved free the tips and then ever more of the remaining pair of limbs, and then, as suddenly as it began, the furious barrage of murderious violence stopped.
Then it was the shambling horror itself fleeing.
And there was no way in hell that Alex was letting that murderous fucker get away.
Sparing only a grateful nod for the glaring master of ice whose whirling disks with the diameter of a man had managed to cripple so many Greater Revenants, even now reforming before Alex’s very eyes.
“Alex, be careful! Their regenerat--”
The wujen’s shouted warning broke off in a snort as the cloudless sky flashed with lightning, the blond-haired lad who had come out of nowhere just weeks ago dispatching each of them with ruthless efficiency as he zigzagged about the battlefield, though refusing to surrender his prize, the horrific abomination not even making a pretense at humanity’s redemption as it desperately slithered and tumbled away.
“Kids a monster,” Qing Wu said with a reflective smile, sipping his tea.
You have critically struck Crippled Greater Revenant with Pristine elemental technique: Prismatic Strike.
Fatality!
Experience earned!
Alex paid no mind to what Desert Sense was almost telling him about his would-be mentor’s wide-eyed stare and snarky commentary, all his focus on the ephemeral technique his mind was both illuminated by and seemed desperate to forget. It was as if his breakthrough had permitted him a glimpse of perfection fit to inspire him for a lifetime, but destined never to be his own, he thought, as his breath grew ragged and he continued to race after the surprisingly fast shambling mound.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
But not before veering off to slam into yet another shambling revenant, smashing aside venom-laced claws with shield, before his crackling dao cleaved clawed hands, stumbling legs, and then head last of all as another surge of sweet hot experience flooded through his psyche and his soul, Alex doing all he could to channnel it into pristine awareness and appreciation for every sweet moment of life he embraced… and the deadly perfection of the technique he invested so much of himself to understanding, even now.
Congratulations! Prismatic Strike is now Rank 4!
Even if it was a talent he was doomed to forget with light’s first caress, or when he stopped channeling it when the flood of potency roaring into him from his kills petered out at last, all sucked into the vortex of his soul, pushing him up ever closer to Rank 7… and then it would be his Qi Pool alone that fueled this marriage of Lightning and every other prime element. A reserve that would drain to nothing in less than a minute’s time.
The very thought filled him with anxious dread far greater than his fear of the horrors he was making himself chase down even now.
Because they were monsters that needed to be sent right back to the river that he and his kung fu sister had forever fled.
And because every one he brought down brought him ever closer to ranking up his skill yet again, in addition to four more precious minutes of a virtual flood of spiritual energy at 4 Qi per second. Four more minutes to coax his half-dreaming Sage-like state of utter mastery of his environment after such a significant breakthrough to hold on to the ephemerality of perfection… before it all faded to the fuzzy fugue of a fool who would be worthless without several days of rest and meditation.
Right now he embraced the clear brilliant focus of a genius. A state he was wise enough to know he would only hold tightly onto for so long as he kept flooding his psyche with spiritual energy.
Spiritual energy he received from each of his kills as he weaved and dodged past flailing limbs and barreling bodies, before punishing them with disemboweling repartes and deadly criss-crossing moulinets that separated claws from wrists and heads from shoulders in brilliant flashes of lightning and flame, writhing bodies of inky blackness twisting and shivering before fading to nothing but ichor as panicked souls were forced into the river’s waters once more.
Almost, he lost it. Coming so close to losing everything when a moment’s distraction could have cost him his head. Would have, had he not instinctively kept his shield couched just so on his shoulder when moving, angled just as Liu Jian had drilled into him for the precious time he had worked as the man’s assistant until eventually becoming his disciple, however tragically brief that time had been.
Long enough for the lessons of mind and body to sink in, Alex wasting no time in self-recrimination when his shield was smashed so hard he was sent flying back by a blow meant to cave in his skull.
A blow that cost his enemy, a roaring giant of a death cultivator, eyes glowing like furnaces as it strove to tear Alex’s head off with a follow up blow, only to collapse as two legs became one and a stump of spurting ichor.
And how comically dismayed it looked, understanding in that moment with exquisite clarity just how utterly the tides had changed as it stumbled to the sands, all leverage lost, unable to feint or stumble away from a suddenly grimly closing Alex, who, yes, was spitting blood and teeth, but was very much alive, alert, and now lashing out with a brilliant bar of white-gold lightning.
Then the revenant sensed nothing at all save the brilliance of oblivion, and a return to purgatory’s inky waters once more.
“Fuck!” Alex cursed, more dismayed than he wanted to admit. Feeling the bruises that made his run into an agonized hobble, not daring to allow his focus to break with more than a minimal draw of Desert Fox healing, so desperate he was to hold on to his conception of the perfect swirling elemental blade, even now trying to claw free of memory’s grasp.
He clenched the hilt of his blade and snarled, even as disks of black ice continued to assist, cleaving countless revenants in half, so he wouldn’t get swarmed.
Not with the lieutenants down, constant foot soldiers purged, and the leader of this band of death slithering away as fast as it could.
But not quite fast enough.
His monstrous opponent had time only to spin around and lash out with a massive maw of teeth and eldritch flame, before the liquid steel and deadly lightning flashed, the desert sands echoing with the thunderous roar of lightning flashing so brightly that every wide-eyed caravan guard and driver was gazing back with awe and dread… and every remaining revenant screamed and writhed as the flood of abjuring energies scalded them where they lurched or stood.
You have critically struck: Greater Revenant.
Instant Fatality!
Experience Earned!
*** *** in effect. You have successfully channeled your full potency into the skill that the heavens would claim for themselves.
Prismatic Strike is now Rank 5!
Your skill has evolved to Adept Tier status! How do you wish to evolve this skill?
His mind, now teetering between the cusp of sage and fool, was overwhelmed by so many variations and possibilities that it left him breathless. Whether miraculous efficiency, even greater synergistic power for a truly run-away progression, even greater ward-puncturing abilities that always matched strongest to weakest, or a myriad host of other options, there was only one possibility that called out to him.
One that he couldn’t instantly visualize as he could so many others flittering across his increasingly exhausted mind… only one that would allow it to be anything more than a sweet halcyon dream, filling him with inspiration for the days to come.
He wanted more than that.
He wanted his ability, forged in glorious insight and bitter peril to remain his own. Not clawed free of psyche or souls by powers that had reigned unchecked, for far too long.
So he grasped tightly to his gift, even as he felt himself going dizzy, ears ringing with the sound off Qing Wu’s cursing and the taste of blood and ice in the air.
Even when he felt blood trickling from his ears, he refused to let go.
Refused to see anything else in his mind’s eye, save for the evolution he expected to see.
He was surprised to find himself on his kness, in a stupor, his latest foe nothing but a black smear upon the ochre desert sands. Fortunately, Desert Sense made it clear that the surviving revenants, now disbanded and scattered, had already fled the immediate area, and were no threat to him.
He still didn’t hesitate to make his way to an oddly wobbling Qing Wu, now gazing at Alex so strangely when the desert sands and sky traded places, and Alex choked back a frown.
The man furrowed his bushy brows. “Just how hard did you push yourself, boy?” The man instantly snorted. “Best you not answer that. Not with what you dared. Now come on, hero, let’s get you back to our wagon. Reny has soup infused with her favorite herbs, but I’m not blind to what you really need, Alex.”
“And what’s that?” His words came out a garbled mumble. He frowned, puzzled. Had he hit is head in that battle somewhere?
The Silver snorted. “Plenty of sleep.”
And much to Alex’s relief and delight, after a glorious bowl of stew, and too many questions from Reny he was in no position to answer, he sunk his head upon soft, down-stuffed pillows.
Willpower check made!
Yet he refused to surrender to exhaustion’s call, a prickle of alarm making it clear that he still had yet to earn the notification he was most desperate to see, no matter how much he felt that final battle, and the evolution earned therein, had pushed him to ascend in ways he never had before, even if his present power was just a fraction of what it once had been.
A limitation he absolutely refused to accept.
One way or another, he would rise, even stronger than he had ever been before.
Even when a Sage’s Insights had most definitely descended to a Fool’s Folly, the increasingly concerned garbles of his companions making less and less sense as time went on, his focus on the ephemeral eight element technique that hadn’t simply conjoined to reinforce itself as his Prismatic Shield had, but where every element was actively strengthening the one after in an escalating cascade of elemental potency… a technique he could somehow sense a snarling Long Wang attempting to tear free of whichever mortal dared to dream it. And how odd it was that his nemesis seemed utterly oblivious of the actual individual behind the technique. Not even sensing WiFu’s ancient disciple, for all that Alex could sense Long Wang’s wujen sorcery with exquisite clarity, chilled to find that his ancient opponent was far more than the bellicose Divine tier muscle-head he clearly loved aping for the benefit of his clan’s opponents around the gaming table of the gods, if nothing else. And clearly his subterfuge was the equal of WiFu’s, because until that moment, Alex had thought his opponent hotheaded fool. And perhaps he was. But one with an immortal’s grasp of the elements, and not quite so limited as Alex had once been led to believe. Or perhaps he had been, 20,000 years ago, and had simply found ways to slip free of a body cultivator’s limitations. Just as Alex now strove to do.
Not that any of that mattered at the moment, when his nemesis was struggling so hard to lay eternal claim to Alex’s insights… and make them his own. Alex’s blood sweat and tears, all his flashes of insights and efforts, would then become that smug bastard’s own. Long Wang proving himself to be just as voracious as Shalu, in his own way. How many eight element masters might this world be blessed with, had they not all had their gifts and foundations shredded by the monster even now trying to claim Alex’s own? As to why he hadn’t claimed Alex’s Prismatic Shield beforehand, he neither knew nor cared. Certainly the monster was trying to claim all he could right then, Alex’s fierce grip upon the technique he refused to surrender the linchpin holding all his gifts and techniques tightly bound to his soul. Because in that horrifying moment, he realized that Long Wang really could steal them all, yank them free along with the eight-element technique the thunder god was somehow able to sink his spiritual claws into.
And just a heartbeat before Alex’s greatest technique, and indeed, his very foundation was pulled free as his spirit was surrounded by the mocking laughter of the living elements laying claim to all in their provenance, he embraced the most desperate gambit of all.
Imagining his heart stuttering to a stop, and himself slipping under the veneer of the River of Souls, still holding tight to his creation, allowing death’s glossy waters to trickle cover them both. Only then did the stubborn bastard finally let go with a furious shout that sent tremors throughout the entire world.
“Aunty, we’re losing him!”
“I know! Hush, stubborn child, and give me the Silver vial!”
A breathless pause. “But after what you said...”
“The foolish boy pushed himself too far, daring to battle the living dead. Even your uncle knew it to be madness, trying to blaze as bright as a storybook hero, in this day and age. If you would have your chosen live, you’d best accept the consequences.”
“Aunty!”
“Now, Ya Ling. We are out of options!”
Alex let their words wash over him with a fiercely triumphant smile, his Prismatic Fox healing technique humming merrily along, heart beating strongly once more as it was given something fresh and delicious to chew on, and Alex at last surrendered to exhaustion’s call, having claimed his prize in the end.
Even if the far off shouts of irate gods and terrified friends were no more than figments of his exhausted imagination.
Congratulations! You have saved versus death!
YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY DEFIED THE HEAVENS!
You have infused Prismatic Strike with spiritual resonance! Prismatic Strike is now an intrinsic part of yourself and cannot be forgotten or pulled free by Death or Divine Intervention! Your karmic debits and merits will now be extended to include all of your skills!
Alex frowned, not entirely sure what the interface meant, and suddenly too tired to care as oblivion’s gentle embrace finally carried him away.