Little Celah, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Sixthmonth, 1634 PTS
Karie stalked her way through the mounds of scrap and rubble, searching for her cousin’s traces. The Riverfiend had long disappeared, his movement technique far outmatching her own. She had been left behind with the Reth woman, someone who Karie remained unsure how she felt about.
It was an odd feeling to work with one of her people’s natural enemies. The woman did not even have any languages in common with her, and Karie was inclined to ignore her presence. The wraithlike Irid perhaps felt the same, but Karie got the feeling that she might have been expressing disdain. The feeling was mutual.
The two were not particularly moving together, but the topology of the area they searched left the two within eyesight of one another.
Though Irid was cloaked in that shadowy mist of hers, Karie endeavored to pay attention to Irid’s location, concerned about a possible sneak attack from the Reth woman. She would not forget that they were merely allies of convenience. Karie had no loyalty to the Redwater Sect, and knew well that they had none for her.
“Where are you?” she muttered, continuing to scan the area with both her eyes and her soul sense. Sometimes, she wished that she had chosen a different technique for her cerebral core. Enhanced senses were extremely helpful at times like this.
Her eyes roamed outwards, spotting something happening near the titan. It was moving as if it were fighting with someone. Had the Supreme Elder arrived already? Thinking that was the most likely scenario, a bead of sweat slowly formed on Karie’s brow. She knew that he would be happy to kill her given the opportunity. Particularly in order to save Juen’s life.
One issue with the current situation was that Karie knew Juen would be able to see her before she saw him. He had a technique to expand his senses, after all. Moreover, Karie’s soul was like an imploding star, condensing in on itself, a lighthouse that shone brilliantly even among a field of stars.
During the weeks since she had become a spirit refiner, Karie had not ceased her practice, and her soul had started to transform under the impact of her refinement method. It had shrunk, growing smaller and denser, a beacon among the largely homogenous souls of the station’s inhabitants. She knew that Juen would be able to recognize the soul of a Hadal spirit refiner even from a distance.
The reverse was not true, but fortunately Karie was not alone. While she searched, Karie heard a voice speaking directly in her ear, an unnerving sensation that she did not expect to grow accustomed to.
“Irid found him,” said Rachel simply. Karie burst into motion, charging across the uneven rubble, as if she were chasing desperately. Rapidly catching up to the field of dark smog surrounding Irid, Karie followed the Reth woman’s gaze to see a figure ten yards away who looked as if they had just crawled their way out from a grave.
“I’ll handle it,” said Karie, immediately racing towards him and leaving Irid behind.
Before her, slowly returning to his feet was a battered martial artist with torn green and black robes. Juen’s eyes were bloodshot, and he had a blank expression on his face as if he were having difficulty focusing.
Karie smiled widely as she saw his injuries. The worse his condition, the easier her task would be. Even still, she could not be caught intentionally murdering him. She was treading the line of acceptability within the clan, but Karie knew the limit of the family’s tolerance.
“You debase yourself, Karie,” he growled, his eyes narrow as he easily recognized her, “no, Twinjade Demon is a more suitable name for you, now, isn’t it? Working with unorthodox practitioners is one thing. But the Reth?”
Karie began to squeeze energy from her internal miasma, unravelling the stores of genesis that she had pressurized inside of her channels.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“It’s nice to see you, cousin,” she said. “You don’t seem well. It’s a shame those injuries of yours were mortal.”
Juen met her gaze, and his expression firmed as he sneered, fat drops of sweat painting his skin.
“Even if your mother wishes to assist you now, the rest will never allow it,” he said. “In your vain attempt to reach for what lies beyond your means, you have discarded your birthright. No matter what happens, in the end you will be judged.”
Something about his words seemed off, but Karie did not care to deeply consider the matter. She preferred to focus on the way his muscles shifted beneath his robes, indicating that he was prepared to burst into motion.
Karie moved first.
With a powerful, miasma fueled leap, Karie drew both of her swords, catching Juen within the field of her mist. His own field pushed out, and their energies quickly mixed, turning the area into a true mire. The two of them were caught in it, and as Juen raised his battered staff, the pair began to trade blows as they moved in slow motion.
A duel between practitioners who both bore the Hadal Clan’s most prized technique was a unique experience. Because of their extremely hampered movements, both Karie and Juen were able to easily tell what their opponent intended to do long before it occurred. This meant, Karie knew, that even without any assistance from her allies, she would have the advantage in this fight.
Karie stepped closer, trying to enter within the reach of her weapons, her twin blades tearing through the miasma towards his stomach. Juen took a step backwards, and the swords lightly grazed his chest as his heavy staff slammed down towards her. But she, too, could easily dodge his blow. It was like a dance, as the two moved in and out of one another’s range, taking and missing opportunities as they roved over the rubble. Though Juen was injured and his weapon damaged, the unusual, methodical and strategic nature of their fight allowed him to maintain himself.
But as they fought, the feeling that something was wrong only continued to grow within Karie. Juen’s breathing grew heavier, blood continued to drip from his wounds as if it refused to clot, and his attacks slowly grew swifter and more powerful.
It wasn’t until the red mist started to emanate from him, and tears of blood started to drip from Juen’s eyes that she finally began to understand the situation.
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Little Celah, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Sixthmonth, 1634 PTS
‘They’ve gone insane,” muttered Aven, staring out through the wide window at the fiery orange sky, and the glow which outshone the domelight itself.
Sirena chuckled, her suspicions confirmed by what she was seeing.
“This is not like you, Kadeki. You wouldn’t have forgotten the lessons I taught you last time so easily.” Sirena frowned, her eyes narrowed. “He should be dead, but… Just what is happening over there?” She sighed, absentmindedly rubbing her cerebral dantian, and then glanced over to Aven. “Call Du Qin.” She then paused, and chuckled again. “Nevermind. That should be the place we sent Juen to. He’ll be moving out with or without my orders.”
“Is there anything we should do?” asked Aven. Though his thinning hair and the growing wrinkles on his face made him seem older than Sirena, his undisguised fear caused her to see him as the child she remembered.
“For now,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “we’ll let him handle it. You’ll be busy enough for ten once this is over, and the Staiven step in. Contact First Commander Pakas and tell him to be ready to pull back when needed.”
Aven nodded, giving a short bow and quickly accessing.
“Is that all, Matriarch?” he asked.
Sirena gave him a wry smile as she peered out through the wide window, watching the flickering miasma billow higher and higher throughout the habitat.
“...for now.”
Sirena continued to watch the skyline. This was, she thought, a turning point., and regardless of their reasons for doing so, the Heirs of Ottrien had been the first to cross the line. It was an opportunity, but also a threat. She pondered the matter, her abyss of mind fully active, just how this might impact the future of the clan. But as always, what Sirena lacked most was information.
Genesis Singularity: [One of the more well-known spirit refinement methods of the genesis path, this art is controlled by a number of different genesis forces of Sunlit Hall, its roots tracing back many generations, and is one of the most popular spirit refinement methods among several of the forces which control it. The method consists of using the force of miasmic current to pressurize the soul, squeezing it slowly into a smaller and denser state until ultimately it hits a critical point, and collapses into a true singularity, and for better or worse. Once true singularity is achieved, the practitioner immediately initiates their ascension, for better or worse. One side benefit of this method is that the practitioner’s soul becomes more difficult to target due to its small size and high density. It is, however, often much easier to sense due to the extremely unusual density it will attain.]