“Ever flowing, a stream, the silver wings of Liuzhong defended the bamboo grove, for the peace of the Orient.”
– A long forgotten record, hidden in the depths of a random enterprise data warehouse, Yisheng Corporation.
***
Darkness shrouded the night in an inky black veil, enveloping the sprawling cityscape before them.
The Outer City seemed to have a life of its own, pulsing with an invisible electricity that coursed through its veins of metal and concrete. The absence of moonlight only seemed to amplify its liveliness as the deep, all-encompassing shadow of the outer city wall was made to dance to the tune of flickering neon lights, forming a dazzling tapestry of ever-changing color.
Deeper inside and away from this wall, the buildings began to rise with fervent ambition. Like sprouting seedlings reaching for loftier heights, these small, concrete structures grew into monumental pillars of mortal glass and steel, all daring to reach for the heavens above.
Deeper still however, nearing the Inner City, the endless growth of these would-be skyscrapers was brought to a jarring halt. A massive dome of golden-white energy cradling the heart of Capital City and defending those within with radiant benevolence. The shielding dome cast an ethereal glow upon the structures outside its defenses, left to the mercy of the world, outlining them in luminous yet tragic light.
Among those melancholic constructions, towering above the rest were the commercial skyscrapers of the Outer City. These lofty spears of human creation stood with an undeniable tenacity that seemed to defy the limits cast upon them. They were beacons of hope to the outer citizen that dared to dream, a promise for something more.
And as if these dreams made incarnate, reflected in the glass and floating in the sky were sharp, eye-stealing Holograms.
A weak, everyday man faced a blood-thirsty orc rampaging through a city. The man stood frozen, just as helpless and terrified as the crowd around him. But his eyes burned with unbreakable resolve as he brought out a syringe pulsing with magical gold, a distinct logo of a mechanical fairy, wings of intricate gears and cogwheels, FaeTech, emblazoned upon the glass.
Just as the orc lunged towards the defenseless crowd, the man injected himself. His nerves thrummed with visible golden light, illuminating him in a majestic visage that calmed the panic of all onlookers. And when the monster was a mere step away, the man launched out a single punch. One meager fist against a fearsome foe.
A burst of exploding wind, and the orc disintegrated into nothingness. And that once helpless man basked in the adoration of the crowd, and the alluring gazes of the unnaturally gorgeous women around him.
A crowded nightclub pulsing to the intangible beat of music, beautiful and handsome bodies lost to the excitement of the dance. But despite their attractiveness, they were all ‘ordinary’, redundantly perfect and repetitively identical. That is, except for one woman.
She was not as classically perfect as those around her or even half as finely dressed, but she stood out from them all. Her movements were otherworldly, every gesture graceful and fluid. With every sigh, her cherubic lips whispered forgotten secrets. With every glance, her piercing rainbow eyes brought mesmerizing tales to life.
As she danced, the crowd could not help but be captivated, drawn into her magnetic presence like bugs to a blazing fire. It was as if she was not of mortal coil, but a divine sidhe, a royal of the faery-lands.
These were just a few of the more distinct holograms among the multitudes being projected by massive advertisements, marketing everything from Fae Serums and Cybernetics to Sidhe cosmetics, Otherworld neural implants to CornuCorp confectionary.
However, this seemingly thriving and lively city, was in truth, abandoned.
The once bustling streets were empty and desolate, silent, save for the persistent hum of machinery and technology.
Unsurprising.
This was the outer city during a Fae Invasion, and not many dared to stray from the relative safety of their homes.
And yet, far away from the jarring inequality of Capital City and shrouded in the darkness of the night, two figures dashed across the rooftops of the outskirts with effortless grace.
Dressed in impeccably perfect black suits, their footsteps were near-silent, the only sounds the occasional creek of old shingles and the rush of wind as they leapt over the gaps between closely packed domestic buildings.
With each step, their feet seemed to defy gravity, bounding through the air with a fluidity that was undoubtedly supernatural.
One of them was relaxed to such a degree that he had his hands behind his back, as if he was simply on a leisurely stroll through a garden, considerably incongruent with the superhuman feat of acrobatics his feet performed.
The other was far more serious, completely focused on the task at hand.
His compatriot laughed boisterously, voice carried away by the rushing wind, “Do try to keep up Master Miles! Surely an immortal Vampire can, at the very least keep up with– hmm, what was it that you said again? An old fart in the wind?!”
Miles scowled, almost losing his footing out of sheer annoyance, “Shut up old Zhan!”
He couldn’t see it with Zhan Shen’s back turned to him, but he could feel the cheeky grin on the old bastard’s face.
The old butler laughed again, “Hoho, the younger generation sure are disrespectful! Well at least your qigong seems to have improved, barely. Perhaps this old man will step up his game as well?”
With that, the old butler’s feet began to flicker through an incomprehensible series of motions and before Miles could even think to answer, the annoying old butler had already vanished, leaving him behind and laughter echoing in the wind.
Miles grimaced, knowing full well that old Zhan’s footwork mastery was beyond him.
Zhan Shen’s qigong and this ‘nameless’ movement art was incomparably mystical. Without Fae serums, without enhancement and without being fae, one could still harness supernatural physical ability.
Miles’ curious queries regarding the nature and science of the skill had always been answered with simple “power of the spirit”, “power of the world” or the far more common “you will understand later”s.
It was very possible that Zhan Shen did not know himself, for the movement art was incomparably complex as well. With 108 distinct footwork series each comprising 9 different forms, the practitioner must select the most suitable variation for that moment and execute with perfection. The faster you wished to move, the more accuracy was required in the choice, and the faster you had to be in its execution.
Although Miles had learned and memorized every single variation of the nameless movement art, he had never succeeded in surpassing the effect of 25 points in the agility attribute, perceived.
Sure, it was decent that he could exceed his base agility with just some footwork techniques, but that was not at all rare, considering the variety of limb and movement enhancement cyberware out there.
And as much as he wished to try, a single misstep on these uneven rooftops could easily lead to free falling down to the streets below.
But seeing Zhan Shen leaving him behind to eat dust, cheekily wagging that old butt in challenge…
‘To hell with it! At worst it’ll just be a broken bone or two that unconditional undeath will heal… eventually!’
Miles grit his teeth and focused, his mind zeroing into a singular purpose. Each and every one of the 972 possible series variations flowed through his consciousness, like a stream amidst a bamboo grove, graceful and undisturbed.
And with a deep breath, he moved.
His mind worked in overdrive, fully immersed in the task of analyzing the ground beneath his feet and the air around him.
After all, to identify the most suitable footwork series and form, all that and more had to be identified, comprehended and paired with the 972 possible variations.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
While Miles could somehow manage to remember them, selecting the most suitable after a thorough comparison was an entirely different challenge. Especially when he had to ensure that he did not lose the flow.
Even with his above average Intelligence attribute, the best Miles had ever achieved was narrowing down the possibilities to a mere half, still leaving 486 possible variations.
Today however, things were different.
The nature of needlessly glowing, yet otherwise ordinary Gloston tiles, the rugged texture of shoddy patchwork metal sheets, the imbalances and discrepancies of the rooftop were glaringly obvious to his soled feet.
The very air quivered with subtle shifts in the wind currents, carrying the touch of dust and Fae effluence, clearly, no, visibly, distinctive to his skin. It was as if he had eyes on every part of his body.
Unnatural insights that Miles had never felt before, helped narrow down the possibilities to 364.
But that was not all.
The instant Miles selected the most fitting footwork variation (usually meant he had to select one at random based on further selective elimination), his feet had to dance in a perfect recreation of the steps that Zhan Shen had burned into his mind.
Simultaneously, before this could be completed, the selection of the next sequence had to be completed.
This was an endless, unrelenting cycle that taxed heavily on both body and mind.
However, perhaps due to his improved physical attributes and intelligence, perhaps due to the enhanced sense of a Vawul, Miles managed to complete and repeat this cycle significantly faster and accurately than ever before, somehow managing to reach the next step in old Zhan’s qigong.
Miles had to remain keenly attentive, focused wholeheartedly on the intricacies of the footwork lest he lose the flow. It would require consistent practice for his muscle memory to properly acclimate to this increase in complexity.
The nameless movement continued to carry him through the air at impossible speeds, just enough to finally begin catching up to Zhan Shen.
Adrenaline coursed through his undead veins as the wind rushed past like a gale unleashed, the colors of the vibrant city blurring into messy streaks.
He couldn't help but feel as if he had been liberated, freed from shackles that had bound him in secret.
This was what it felt to reach a perceived agility of 25, and he relished the feeling, each step sending him bounding through the air.
Unfortunately, being so focused on the task at hand also meant that the Ding! that followed caught him off guard, so much so that he almost lost his footing. But he managed to recover, the only effect being a considerable slow down.
Ding!
[The World beyond the Veil resonates with your ethereal footsteps.
(Nameless Movement Art - Unique) added to General Skills.]
Ding!
[Nameless Movement Art (Unique)- An Unusual Skill performed by the newborn Vawulan that managed to resonate with the World Beyond the Veil.
The greater the resonance, the greater the speed and control achieved. Your speed surpasses the possible.
Skill Mastery: Understanding.
Current Effect: +7 to Agility.]
‘Nameless Movement Art? The System noticed and incorporated the footwork skill? And it's supposedly Unique as well?! But what is this 'world beyond the veil?’
Miles was both confused and intrigued, itching to question Zhan Shen on the topic.
The improvement in his skill had helped him speed up and potentially catch up… but the cheeky old butler seemed to have noticed, immediately speeding up once more, butt wriggling in challenge.
“...”
Well, whatever, there was no hurry.
With great patience worthy of a man of his stature, Miles decided to question Zhan Shen later, preferably when they came to a stop.
This had nothing to do with the fact that he would probably fall off the rooftops if he tried to speed up any further. None whatsoever.
And so, they continued to dash through the rooftops, young master chasing after Butler, the city blurring past them.
Miles allowed himself to enter a state of passive focus, his mind and body immersed in the footwork but still free enough to observe the city.
Even on this moonless night a Vawulan's vision could not be obstructed.
Neon lights flickered with pulsing will-o-wisps, spheres of multi-colored light, once magical creatures trapped and degraded to now be mere lighting.
Glaringly spotted faerie toadstools dotted the landscape, a magical weed that impossibly thrived on all matter including steel and concrete, shimmering with vague golden dust that melded into the backdrop of neon light.
Delivery Drones (including those possibly pretending to be) buzzed in the distant skies and the grounds below, Zhan Shen’s path of travel coincidentally managing to avoid their potential surveillance entirely.
And holographic advertisements, while limited to the commercial regions, did not mean that ordinary homes and buildings were beyond corporate influence. On the contrary, it was almost impossible to find a construction that had not bent the knee for a quick bit or two and been plastered with gleaming corpo signboards and banally colorful posters.
Well, Miles wasn't exactly in a position to judge as he noted more than a few Lykaon Industries adverts among some of the more prominent advertising, for some nat-tech weaponry, cyberware, and of course, their flagship transporter components.
But soon enough his breath started to grow heavy.
Even with his newly enhanced attributes, the fatigue from constantly using the nameless skill was on a whole other level.
Thankfully, not long after, Zhan Shen sent a signal, right hand pointed downwards and the both of them slowed down.
Following the old butlers lead, Miles focused one last time and dropped off the building.
The nameless movement art flowed through every one of his minute motions as he followed, making use of balconies, alcoves, and even rusted pipes as makeshift steps to gracefully make it down to the alley below. He may not have been used to fast speeds, but descending a roughly ten-foot height was nothing unusual.
His feet touched the ground, the alley squelching underneath, dirt and filth coming alive in grotesque response.
Miles grimaced even as he caught his breath.
The alley was dark and narrow, discreetly tucked away from the main roads in between the looming buildings of the outer city.
It wasn’t the darkness that bothered him, but the smell. A disgusting stench of rot, decay and waste.
The sickening smell tickled his nostrils but failed to actually overwhelm his sensitive senses, not even making him gag as he ordinarily would have in such a foul environment.
It was disgusting, yes, but it was also just there, distinctively clear.
Upon focusing, Miles realized that his vawul-enhanced olfactory senses could isolate and identify the individual sources causing the smell.
Piles of garbage and broken equipment, fae and nat-tech alike, discarded carelessly and leaking hazardous effluents. Faerie fungi, ones not as pleasant in appearance as the toadstools and pungent instead, growing amidst layers of grime and mold, thriving as a result of years of neglect.
But it was the flicker of will-o-wisps from distant neon lights, illuminating the narrow alley in a sickly glow, that highlighted the primary source.
Sickly corpses, human corpses, in various stages of unnatural decomposition, left to rot with no one to care, scattered across the piles of garbage like trash themselves.
Most were more metal than human though, probably having poisoned themselves by overusing back-alley cybernetics. One of the many reasons why nat-tech wasn’t exactly beloved by the general populace.
Although Miles’ reaction was subdued compared to the usual, he still couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust.
Seemingly unaware of the state of their surroundings, Zhan Shen grinned with cheek, more interested in his young master, "Tsk tsk, the youngsters these days can't even keep up with an old fart huh? Even after becoming an undead Vampire?"
Miles grimaced, "Go to hell old Zhan," but paused, retaliating with a rising grin of his own, "Perhaps it is because the older generation enjoys showing off, instead of properly explaining what they were supposed to teach?"
Zhan Shen was caught off guard, but recovered quickly and was just about to reply…
Miles waved his hand like a proud emperor dismissing a peasant, "Whatever old Zhan, forget it. More importantly your ‘nameless’ movement skill got a reaction out of the system," and proceeded to explain the notification he had received.
Zhan Shen paused in thought, narrowing his eyes, "How interesting, this system of vampires that is,” but in the end, he simply pursed his lips, “unfortunately Master Miles, my answer must remain the same as usual. You will understand later.
It is not that I wish to keep what I know from you, but anything I do say would become counterproductive. You must discover on your own. This… is the way of this path."
Miles heaved an impatient sigh, "Why was I expecting anything different? Well alright, shall we leave this disgusting place then?"
Zhan Shen nodded but added, “Perhaps it would be wise to ensure our anonymity first?”
Miles paused, but ultimately nodded, bringing up the Lykaon wolf-head ring, “Cadmus, activate identity distortion for myself and designation [Old Zhan].”
Immediately the ring began to blink with a hazy white light, buzzing and shivering, innately casting the magic of the fairy that called themselves Amathaka. And as Miles had requested, something hidden under Zhan Shen’s left collar did the same.
The elderly butler flipped his collar revealing the object, an engraved pin, a pair of silver wings glinting in the mild light of the will-o-wisps.
This was Zhan Shen’s equivalent to the Lykaon ring. While it did not have total authority, in the hierarchy of Miles’ access to the Lykaon Network, it was only a few tiers below his alpha ring.
Miles wasn’t entirely sure what the wings denoted, but apparently Zhan Shen had insisted this be the focus for his connection.
Lifting his right-hand Miles tapped the ring to his face, while old Zhan lightly twisted his neck to the same effect with the pin on his chest.
Immediately the ring and pin fell silent as the artificial fairy energy transferred, manifesting upon themselves.
Their faces distorted and blurred, becoming indistinct. Like an intangible mirage or a fading dream, they were now impossible to be identified or be described in detail.
This was Obliviation, the innate magic of the Amathaka fairy, or rather a partial replication of the relevant frequency, cast via the Lykaon network with the alpha ring as an intermediary.
With Zhan Shen’s prompt approval on the efficacy of the identity distortion, the duo departed from the alleyway.