There are a few rules of thumb about picking your foes when they are cultivators, but this is my favorite: don’t fight them when they’re at the peak of their tier. You’ll soon find yourself as their final whetstone for advancement. – Wandering Cultivator Yin Linyao
* * *
Xinya stared at the entire scene in horror. How had things gone so far south so quickly? When Pollen began her dance and Mister Tsuyuki summoned that beautiful, blue light of his, Xinya thought for sure that the day had been won. After all, they’d defeated thousands of spiders in just a few moments! Sure, some of those were illusory, but she was still impressed. The display had been almost serene, with Pollen’s petals drifting around in the moonlight before streaking off to kill some hapless spider.
But, then Pharyx had fallen, and everything turned for the worse. Tears sprung to her eyes as Mister Tsuyuki worked desperately to save him, drawing the monster’s attention away, only to find himself hurled against a wall. Even Xinya had heard the horrible crunching sound of his bones before he slumped to the ground. After that, the matriarch was on him, spinning him in a cocoon of silver thread.
“Miss Pollen,” she whispered. “What are we going to do?”
Pollen didn’t hear her amidst the terrible clicking and clacking of spider pincers. Petals whirled in every direction as the honeybee waded through a sea of spiders to reach Pharyx. His light burned dimly, and he was barely holding out against the onslaught. Blood stained his clothes from several gashes, including one across his left cheek that Xinya thought would leave a rather nasty scar…if they lived to reach the surface.
The honeybee queen swept her whisk across the field before her, and a great wind swept up more petals, sending them spraying out in a wide cone of death. Spiders fled before her as she rushed in. Her hand grasped the spirit hornet’s arm, dragging him back to safety. Soon, the two had their backs to the barrier array in which Xinya waited with bated breath.
“If you have any tricks left,” Pollen said, “now might be a good time to use them.”
Pharyx nodded. He pointed to a big spider, though every spider was far too massive as far as Xinya was concerned, and his eyes flashed gold. The girl recognized the same ability that had ruined her plans as he shouted “Submit!”
Eight eyes burned with the same gold as the hornet’s before the enormous monster turned on its kin. Giant legs skewered smaller bodies, and Xinya almost whooped in joy.
Despite their successes, the two adults looked nearly defeated. Pollen’s hair fell in tired strands around her face while Pharyx’s clothes held more red than any of the original colors.
“That won’t last long,” Pharyx said. “Full control is hard, and it’s fighting me.”
“And with Tsuyuki down.” Pollen didn’t finish the sentence. All three of them knew the stakes. With the moon artist down, their already low odds of surviving the horde of spiders was slim. The plan had originally revolved around being able to surprise the matriarch in her own lair, slaying her quickly, and retreating. No one was prepared for a long engagement where the numbers were three against a hundred. Especially when that hundred didn’t include the matriarch herself.
Tears leaked from Xinya’s eyes, but she stubbornly refused to let her shoulders shake with sobs. The matriarch had climbed high onto the walls to hang her cocooned mentor and guardian from the ceiling. Once she was finished, she’d turn back to them.
For a brief moment, Xinya wondered if this was a better way to go than the fate that awaited her back in Saikan. Sure, she’d had a few more months to live, but when it came down to being eaten in a nest of spiders or picked out of a line up and executed, she wasn’t sure which was preferable. Here in the den, she was no more able to fight for herself than against Shen Yaoxan. She was just as weak, just as helpless, and it burned in her as a defiant blaze of rage. She didn’t want to be helpless anymore. She was tired of relying on others to save her, but, at this rate, she’d never have the chance to do otherwise.
In the end, could fate really be altered? Could reality be dictated like Tsuyuki claimed? Or was it all just an immutable river charging ever forward, unchanging despite a cultivator’s best efforts?
* * *
It took far longer than I’d hoped to patch myself up. My qi was agitated from the fight, and agitated qi was always the most difficult to deal with. However, that didn’t stop me from stubbornly forcing it to comply.
One by one, I layered void and moonlight in equal measure into my meridians, starting with those in my torso, then in my head, then into my arms and legs. Qi flowed like blood through me, and the changes I felt taking place in my body sent a thrilling shiver down my spine.
Iron was a critical advancement for a cultivator. Despite being in the middle of the Forging Stage, it was the first advancement in a cultivator’s journey that truly enhanced their body. Every tissue needed to become so thoroughly infused with qi that it changed them. Eyes that could see the world for what it was, a body that could with withstand the incredible force of the qi that coursed through it, and a core that could store more qi and distribute it more quickly. All of these were critical for any spirit artist intent on climbing the ladder and reaching immortality.
And yet, all of that was secondary to the most important element: appearances. Due to the incredible changes wrought, most artists received a physical manifestation of their power. Glowing eyes, shining hair, skin that could turn to stone or bark, all of these were possible, given the right conditions. It was unpredictable, and exciting.
With the void layered into my moonlight, I had no idea what changes would be made to my appearance. Part of me worried that I’d become trapped in my Void-touched form, but another, more optimistic part wondered at how the depths of the void might add a sense of mystery to my already regal bearing. Perhaps my hair would become darker or maybe flecks of dark mist would appear in my eyes. The possibilities were endless.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
But, I digress.
As I finished advancing, taking advantage of millennia of cultivation experience to do so in a record-breaking time of a few minutes, I began to return to awareness…only to find myself wrapped up in sticky webs that clung to my clothes and pulled at my hair as I tried to wiggle around. It was disgusting, slimy stuff, and I wanted nothing more than to be free of it.
My entire body burned with the void as I clawed at the webbing. My qi made short work of the webs. However, then gravity took hold, and I slammed into the ground. I groaned as my cracked ribs protested, but now was not the time for delay.
I glanced at the battle, only to feel my heart soar (briefly). I could see! Browns and silver auras danced in my vision, and I nearly laughed with excitement. A golden haze surrounded Pharyx, as well as one of the spiders that I could only assume was under his command, while Pollen’s qi was a soft pink threaded with green and gold. All around them was the moon qi of the spiders, something hidden from the two spirit beasts. Unlike them, though, I was extremely sensitive to lunar qi. Their pitiful illusions were nothing to me.
The matriarch danced around Pharyx, weaving a web of qi around him that muddled his senses and left him vulnerable to her attacks. Despite this, he still fought with the full ferocity of his species, ducking and weaving around the attacks he could sense. He’d even managed to land a blow, judging by the gash in the matriarch’s side.
She was angry, bleeding from her side and chest. Her qi was keeping her up, and it was tainted. I knew enough yokai to know the look of their qi. It swirled and roiled with resentment and hatred, and that would drive her quickly to madness. Though not the fate of every yokai, it was clear that the matriarch was beyond saving.
With speed that surprised even me, I drew an arrow and pulled it back on my string. Void surged along the arrow in dark mist swirling with flashes of blue-silver light. With the matriarch’s head in my sights, my grip relaxed, and the string snapped forward.
The arrow missed.
In fact, it flew so high that I stared at it in shock. As I drew another arrow, I mentally replayed the calculations. The direction had been good. The distance was nearly a hundred yards…and yet it had sailed clean over the matriarch’s head. No one even noticed the strike, it was so far off. How had my aim been so poor?
The second arrow, I took no chances with. This one I infused with void and moonlight in equal measure, one to empower it, one to guide it true. When I released this one, the trajectory was still off, but the moon qi in the arrow got it closer. It slammed into the matriarch’s shoulder, piercing straight through like the last one.
She turned, hatred burning in her eyes. I grinned at her.
“You should have finished me off when you had the chance,” I called.
“A mistake I shall not make again, treat,” she hissed.
I took a deep breath. Advancing was exhausting work, especially at the rate I’d done it, but I felt better than I had since escaping the Labyrinth. In fact, it was like a weight had lifted from my chest. I could breathe again!
The matriarch raced towards me, judging me a greater threat than Pharyx. That was only fair, given that I could see through her illusions more easily than the hornet could. Three more arrows slowed her approach, but still she came.
“I will drain the life from your limp corpse!” she shrieked. I bit my lip, firing a fourth arrow which skewered one of her spider limbs. How many shots would it take to bring her down? How long could she hold out?
A thread of silver wrapped around the matriarch, unseen to all eyes but mine. It danced and flickered as she surged forward. In the blink of an eye, it shot up to the ceiling. My eyes followed just in time to see an enormous boulder fall from above.
What luck, I thought to myself, hoping it would squish the matriarch flat. However, lucky as it was, the boulder did not flatten her as I’d hoped.
Instead, it fell just before her. The spider yokai twisted her body, dodging to the side, so that only an illusory version of her was trapped beneath the rubble. That was her undoing. My eyes met with Pharyx’s, and he nodded in agreement.
Summoning the last of his strength, he sped forward, lance bared. My qi surged in tandem with his. An arrow made entirely from moonlight formed on my string.
Before the spider matriarch had a chance to reform her illusions, two lunar blades ripped from the ground, stopping her dead in her tracks and revealing her true location. She pivoted, trying to dodge around them to reach me, but there wasn’t time.
An arrow of moonlight pierced her chest from the front, just as a sun-infused lance plunged into her back. She tensed, arcing her back, and screaming so loud the echoes caused my ears to ring.
She struggled, but in the end, her injuries were too great. She slumped to the ground. Only after she lay still for several moments did Pharyx jerk his lance free from the corpse.
Silence reigned over the cavern as the spiders studied their mother’s fallen body. They conversed in shocked hisses and whispers. So many of their kin had fallen. Without their mother, what chance did they have of defeating two insect queens and their hired help?
In the end, they did the smart thing. They ran. Back down into the tunnels they fled until the only spiders remaining in the cavern were the dead. Pollen released the qi of the barrier array, allowing Xinya to run forward.
“Mister Tsuyuki! You’re okay!” Tear-stained tracks were clear on her cheeks as she threw her arms around my waist. I grimaced at the protests of my cracked ribs but ran my fingers through her ponytail all the same.
“Nice job not getting eaten,” Pharyx said, patting my shoulder more gently. I flashed him a smile.
“She wouldn’t have an appreciation for the complexity of my flavors,” I answered. He laughed and patted my shoulder again.
“Thanks for revealing the real one. That boulder was a stroke of genius.”
I shrugged. “Can’t take credit. That was just good luck.”
He blinked in shock. “Good luck? Damn, I might need to keep you around. I could use your kind of fortune.”
I smiled at him sheepishly, but a question began to form in the back of my mind. Was it really fortune? That silver thread had been the cause, of that I was sure. That same silver thread had been present when Shen Yaoxan fell into a pit during our fight. But…what was it? Where did it come from?
“Come on,” Pharyx said. “I miss the sun.”
“You’ll have to wait a little longer,” I reminded him. “It’s probably still raining above.” He swore violently, causing Xinya to giggle at his obscenity. I just rolled my eyes as we joined Pollen. “Even rain beats this place, though. Let’s go home.”
As we walked out from that den of wicked lies, Xinya excitedly recounted the battle from her perspective. Pharyx and I listened with interest, chiming in when we could fill in details for her. Meanwhile, Pollen followed behind, adding only her tense silence to the tales of our heroism.