Earth (Buryoku Book 6)

by Aaron Oster

  “We need to run,” Ikari said, the words slipping out before she even realized she’d said them. “We need to run now!”

  She kicked off the air, wind blasting around her as she desperately tried to escape what was coming. A fear unlike anything she’d ever felt in centuries gripped her, an irrational, mind-numbing terror that clawed at the edge of her mind and threatened to unhinge her from reality. And yet, even as she fled, she could hear the invocation. It was completely unnecessary, due to Duncan’s power, but spoken all the same.

  “Silver Nova.”

  The world stilled even as the sun was blotted out, shadows creeping over the land. Ikari twisted in midair, her eyes going wide in terror as the silver sphere expanded outward, catching up and covering her in an instant. It continued to expand, growing larger and larger to the point where Ikari could no longer see the other end.

  The sheer scale of the attack was staggering, and as the sphere began to descend, Ikari knew there would be no running. She twisted in midair, tapping into her powers as a Sovereign, and tried to call on her Conqueror technique again to try and lessen the impact. The problem with the Conqueror technique was that its inherent weakness was that it exacted a heavy toll on its user. Calling on such a technique again so soon after using it could have disastrous results.

  Ikari didn’t survive to be struck by Duncan’s attack, her own Core tearing her apart from the inside out as she lost control of the technique. Within seconds, her body had been scorched to dust.

  Pelata and Ame weren’t so lucky. The Silver Nova engulfed them both, the Reiki of Duncan’s Path of Callers tearing them apart piece by piece. Their screams were so loud that those still watching the demonstration on Mountain Moore — Duncan had made sure to have an extra viewing construct on hand — imagined that they could hear their voices doubled.

  ***

  Duncan watched the technique fade, the massive, silver sphere dissipating into the air and leaving utter ruin in its wake. He was glad that the conspirators had chosen to have their secret meetings out here, as he hadn’t needed to worry about any collateral damage. Had they met in the center of a city, he wouldn’t have been able to confront them in this way.

  If asked, Duncan would have admitted that he had absolutely enjoyed wiping these traitors from the face of the planet. Ikari had been a thorn in his side for some time, and he and Ame had never really seen eye to eye. However, the real reason he’d wiped them all out had nothing to do with loyalty or his personal dislike of them.

  They had tried to go after his son and use Leroy against him. Attacks against himself, he could handle. But attack his family, and Duncan wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

  From the moment he’d appeared here, he’d known how he would be handling this fight, and despite the fact that this area of the Windblight would remain permanently scarred, he didn’t much care.

  Duncan took one last look around, sweeping the area with his senses just in case one of them had managed to slip away. However, nothing remained of the three Sovereigns, nor was there anything left of the fifteen square miles of desert that he’d just wiped out in an instant.

  The scariest part of this technique wasn’t its massive power or incredible scale. The most terrifying aspect of the technique was one that Duncan hadn’t shared with anyone. Right now, if he so chose, he could use it again without any risk to himself.

  Conqueror techniques were supposed to have a cool-off time, where the soul would need to recharge and replenish itself before taking on that sort of strain again. But he could have unleashed another Silver Nova without batting an eye.

  Duncan took one last look around the gaping black hole, where sand still streamed in, emptying into the pit that seemed to have no bottom. Then he turned, flying off back toward Mountain Moore and leaving the viewing construct in place. This way, people could see what happened to those who crossed or betrayed him.

  After this, Duncan didn’t think he’d need to keep anyone else in line.

  ***

  Hermit stepped from a crack in space into a world of darkness. Having come from the Windblight, one of the sunniest places on the continent, this was a stark change. There was a reason he’d come here right at this moment, and it had more to do with what he’d been leaving behind than what he was actually here for.

  Though he knew the death of his sister was necessary, it hadn’t exactly been something he’d been keen to stay for. Though Ikari was a bitter, vengeful, and hateful person, she hadn’t always been that way. That was why Duncan had been the one who’d had to do it, because Hermit knew that he would hesitate in the moment. He couldn’t kill his own flesh and blood.

  In fact, he couldn’t even bring himself to watch.

  At this very moment, he was sure Duncan was carrying out the plan. He, though, had functionally blinded himself by pulling his senses inward, keeping them contained to only his immediate surroundings. The fact that he was actually here for something also helped keep his mind away from the gruesome reality that waited for him when this was all over.

  Hermit’s eyes blazed a brilliant crimson as he cycled Reiki up to them, lighting the world up in various shades of black. Keeping his senses reigned in this way would make it difficult to find the lone figure he’d come here to retrieve. Enhancing only his eyes should at least show him the right direction.

  He turned slowly in place, soon latching onto the mass of darkness standing out even in this cursed forest. He headed off at a brisk pace, mentally running through the number of fighters he’d gathered on his team so far.

  He’d had word from Doragon that both Roy and Aika had sufficiently advanced to the point where they’d be able to compete. Along with Violet, that made three, and judging by the density of the power he was sensing, his fourth candidate was here. He was hopeful she’d agree to join, though he couldn’t see her refusing, especially not where Roy and Aika were concerned.

  The only problem would be finding a fifth candidate who would fit.

  Hermit turned his mind away from that for the time being, thinking instead of the man named Doragon. He hadn’t given much away in their brief conversations, but Hermit had gotten enough to be extremely curious. Curious enough, even, to bounce ideas off his eternal guest.

  “How do you think this all connects?” he wondered.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” the Core replied. “Though I’m sure you can question the two of them when they return.”

  “We won’t have very much time between then and the first stage of the competition,” Hermit said. “Besides, how much will they be willing to give away? I haven’t seen Roy since the night he almost killed himself in Light City, when he used Qi before his body was ready.”

  “Has it really been that long?” the Core asked, seeming surprised.

  “Well, we did briefly see him during his fight with the winged Scion, but we barely spoke then. Only enough to let him know of our plans for his escape.”

  “Do you think he’s changed so much that he will be unwilling to speak with you?” the Core asked.

  Hermit thought it over, silently contemplating all that had changed since he’d last seen Roy, what he now knew about his charge and his true origins. The fact that Roy had managed to make it into the Red stages wasn’t so unbelievable. After all, there were many talented Martial Artists out there. However, the fact that he’d managed to make it all the way here when he hadn’t even had a Core a couple of years ago was astonishing.

  Duncan had spoken of Roy’s rapid growth and why they’d been forced to remove his Core as a child. The question now was whether Roy’s personality would be drastically altered or if the Core inhabiting his body would have been able to mitigate some of those more violent tendencies.

  Hermit was snapped from his thoughts as a flash of dark power crossed his field of vision, a line of blackness tracing an odd pattern before coming to a sudden halt.

  Pulling the Reiki from his eyes, Hermit clasped his hands behind his back and waited.
There was a flash of darkness, and a figure, lithe and powerful, came streaking down from above, her body half-cloaked in inky black smoke.

  She didn’t attack, though — her senses would have been keen enough to tell her who he was — landing before him in a crouch, before straightening to her full height.

  The woman was shorter than he remembered, standing just under six feet. She also appeared a lot more human as well and had thankfully dropped her aversion to clothing, though the robes she now wore would make most in polite society blush at their boldness.

  Her skin was now uniformly dark tan in color. It was quite a bit lighter than his own skin tone, but several shades darker than was common. In fact, there was a clear liquid tinge to it that marked her as unnatural. It made her skin appear sleek, and if the triangular, black-furred ears poking from the top of her head didn’t give her bestial side away, then the skin definitely would.

  The long, bushy tail flicking back and forth behind her was an obvious giveaway as well, as were the pair of gleaming amber eyes that were just a bit too large for her face. Her hair, now colored a light gold, hung well past her hips, which had flared out in proportion to her chest. It seemed she’d taken a much curvier shape, favoring the build of the Herald clan over the slimmer builds more common in women of most others.

  Aside from the eyes, ears, and tail, none of her bestial features remained, though her nails were just a bit too long and pointed to be entirely human. Her nose, once small and animalistic, had straightened, now appearing quite human. Her face was less angular as well and her cheeks were a bit more rounded. Her lips remained black, though that could easily have been dismissed as paint.

  There was a fair bit of muscle tone on her bare arms, only betraying a hint of the pure physical power Hermit knew lay there. Her legs were equally as muscled, though judging by how much of them the woman had bared, he was glad he’d brought along a spare set. The robes were also quite open in the front. Not so much that it left nothing to the imagination, but enough that he could see the line of muscle running down her abdomen.

  Hermit didn’t much care for her appearance, though. What had his eye was the Belt around her waist, which was colored a solid, shining Red. As he watched, a single line of brilliant Gold traced its way along one of the hanging ends.

  “Looks like you’ve found your Path,” Hermit said, digging into the small pack he held and producing a pair of more modest robes.

  “I needed the time away,” the woman replied, her voice coming out much lighter than one might expect.

  “I take it you’ve sensed the Beast?” Hermit asked, extending the robes.

  “How could I not?” she said, taking them with a grimace.

  It was clear she found them distasteful and restrictive, but she slipped them on all the same, donning them over the set she currently wore.

  “The others will be back in about six days,” Hermit said as she dressed herself. “I think you can use some rest in the meantime, as well as some catching up on current events.”

  “That works for me,” she replied, pulling her Belt tight over the new robes. “This place is good for training, but I think I’m just about ready to go. I don’t know how much more of this I can eat without being sick.”

  The woman made a sour face then, betraying a hint of the Beast she had once been. Hermit made a mental note to add a few days of proper, human etiquette into her training. After all, he couldn’t very well have her behaving like she used to. Yes, she had matured quite a bit, but mentally, she would still be on the level of a girl in her mid-teens.

  “Come,” he said, extending a hand. “Roy’s father should be about done with his job. I think he’ll be eager to meet you.”

  The woman’s smile stretched from ear to ear — a clearly unnatural gesture which once again gave away her unhuman nature — as she took the proffered hand. The world around them seemed to bend inward, and a moment later, the clearing in the cursed forest was empty. The only signs of previous inhabitance were the small, clawed imprints left by the woman’s bare feet.

  ***

  Crimson stood high in the sky, near the atmosphere of the planet. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her long hair streaming in a nonexistent breeze, as she watched the proceedings down below with a look of disdain clearly stamped on her face. Next to her stood Azure, the man hiding his emotions well, despite the growing turmoil and the bloodbath soon to come.

  In truth, she didn’t really mind having to come here to babysit. While she detested the weaklings scrambling around below, it was oh-so entertaining to watch them kill themselves. It was especially so when their pathetic displays of power elicited such reactions from those who didn’t know what true power looked like.

  Even the so-called Scions, the powerhouses of Safaia, couldn’t come close to comprehending what a true Martial Artist could do.

  It had been millennia since Crimson herself had escaped the bounds of that pathetic world and moved on to her current position. The planet their kind inhabited had true Martial Artists. They weren’t all from Buryoku, obviously. In fact, previous inhabitants of this backwater planet were scarce at best. It was why she held such disdain for them in the first place, despite once having lived here.

  It was because Crimson truly understood how shallow and meaningless her life had been before. The fact that these weaklings couldn’t see what she did, insisting on their little politics and maneuvering, instead of clawing tooth and nail to advance, made her want to wipe the lot of them out and start over.

  Unfortunately, just as Azure was unable to interfere, she too had been prohibited from doing so. In his own strange way, Azure was actually saving these weaklings. Because if he weren’t here, she might have dropped a world-ending meteor on their heads. Or perhaps she would have torn a hole to a dimension where genuine monsters lived — monsters that would make the Ancient Cavern Beast look like a harmless puppy.

  Her lip twitched downward as she watched one of the Scions wipe out a few traitorous Gray-Belts.

  They believed they were so powerful, simply because they’d earned their Black-Belts.

  Crimson looked down to her own Belt. There was Black in hers as well, though it flickered and moved along with the Red, dancing like a wildfire casting shadows.

  It made the Black-Belts worn by the Scions look like cheap imitations by comparison. It was why she truly detested them. All of them. They believed they were so close to the pinnacle of what a Martial Artist could achieve, when in reality, their Black-Belts were only the beginning.

  ***

  Fire flickered all around them, power cast by the Beast they called their master. The three Scions stood just a few feet off the ground, facing fifteen fighters, all arrayed before them. To their backs stood a vast crater, black smoke curling up from its depths. The Dreadpit had been Furea’s home for centuries, but now, they were on the cusp of freeing him for good.

  The Scions didn’t say a word, nor did the gathered fighters. Had Roy been there, he’d have recognized one of their number as Dia, the 5th Dan Red-Belt Supreme who’d been giving Aika so much trouble. Though he wouldn’t expect to recognize any others, he’d have been shocked to see two more faces he’d known, and he wouldn’t be the only one.

  The ground began to shake, small fractures appearing in space around the gathered fighters. Though none dared move, a few looked around worriedly. Their collective attention was turned as a pillar of liquid fire erupted from the Dreadpit, climbing so high and so fast that none of the fighters could see where it ended.

  A shadow appeared in the pillar, dark and vast. Its shape was indistinct, thanks to the flickering light, though the voice that echoed out from within was anything but. Deep and gravelly, the voice of their master caused all but the Scions to drop to their knees, the weight of its words so immense that lesser beings might have expired.

  “You are all servants of a higher power. You have come to me, seeking what you could not hope to gain on your own. You all have a rare opportunity b
efore you, one which will place me in your collective debts. Present yourselves well in this contest of champions. Emerge victorious. Free me, and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams…”

  The echoing voice trailed off, and all gathered could feel the weight of their master’s presence increase tenfold.

  “Fail to do so, and you will not be able to run far or fast enough to escape my wrath!”

  The pillar of liquid fire flared then, appearing so bright that it nearly blinded all those in attendance. Then, it was gone, the liquid fire collapsing back into the hole as though it had never been there in the first place.

  It had left quite the impression, though, and to those gathered fighters who would be facing the humans in a bid to free their master, both glee and pure terror had been left in his wake. They felt glee at the opportunity to gain the promised reward and terror at the thought of failure. One and all, they knew the stakes.

  If they lost, death at the hands of the humans would be a far better alternative to allowing Furea to dole out their punishments.

  ***

  Roy sat with his back straight and eyes closed, breathing evenly as he cultivated, the golden Power Essence flowing into him from the outside world and looping through the flower-shaped pattern before flowing into his Core.

  He could still feel the warmth of the dying fire at his back, as well as the spot on his cheek where Aika had planted a soft kiss before turning in for the night. The small cave they’d found was warm and dry, and seeing as she’d taken far more injuries than him during the day, he didn’t blame her for turning in early.

  On the far side of the cave, he could sense Itachi Violet and Tonde Kaeru. The former was cultivating, forever working on sharpening her skills, while the latter seemed to be lazing about, moving a sphere of water through the air with one of his fingers.