Divine Arsenal: Dual Weapon Cultivation

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Divine Arsenal: Dual Weapon Cultivation Page 9

by Dante King


  “You keep talking about this guy,” I said, moving the conversation over to Hazel. I knew very little about her, and I’d rather hear more about this strange world Anna and I had found ourselves in than defend my story about Eliezer for the hundredth time. “Who is he, exactly? Your boss?”

  Hazel snorted. “He’s the leader of the Hollow Frog Guild,” she explained, taking a sip of her tea. Steam rose from the lip of the mug, and she winced from the heat. “Still too hot.”

  “What’s the Hollow Frog Guild?” Anna asked, scooting closer.

  Hazel set her mug down for the moment, waiting for it to cool. “They’re my Guild,” she said, like it was a point of personal pride for her. “We’re responsible for the Mana Zones surrounding the Stillwater Valley. The Verdant Ruins are one of these Zones—the lowest-level Zone, in point of fact. You’re lucky you landed here, as the monsters in the other Mana Zones are much more dangerous than garden-variety Nippers and Crocs.”

  “I’m sure luck had nothing to do with it,” I countered. “Eliezer wanted us to start from the bottom.”

  Hazen nodded. “The Guild ensures that no monsters escape from the Mana Zones. People live in the Stillwater Valley, you understand—not fighters and mages, but civilians. They depend on us to protect them from creatures like the ones we fought.” She tested her tea again, finding it cool enough to drink. “Also we serve the Emperor, of course. Should he call us up for combat, we would aid him in whatever war he wished to fight. That hasn’t happened in centuries, however.”

  I gestured outside of the shack. “Are all the Mana Zones like this?” I asked, pointing into the forest.

  “Like what?”

  “You know.” I paused for a moment, gathering my thoughts. “Like a dungeon in a video game. Full of monsters, themed around a different natural landmark or climate…”

  Anna perked up. “It really does feel like a video game, doesn’t it? Levels, magical pills, words appearing in the air...takes me right back to my Final Fantasy days.”

  My eyebrows rose. “You played Final Fantasy?”

  “FFXI,” Anna said, the corner of her mouth curling in a smirk. “Bastok forever, baby. I was one of the best geomancers on my server.”

  “Bastok is Lastok,” I retorted with a smirk. “San D’Oria was where it’s at…”

  For the second time since we’d come to this world, it was Hazel who looked confused. “I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” she said, her lips forming a tight little line. “What is a video game?”

  Anna and I shared a look. “How should I explain this?” I asked her, chuckling a bit.

  She took up the thread. “It’s the whole ‘fight monsters, get stronger, make progress’ thing,” Anna explained, trying her best to avoid any nerd terminology Hazel wouldn’t understand. “Back on Earth, a lot of people—especially young people—do these things for fun. Except they’re…” She gestured futilely with her hands, making a face. “They do them virtually.”

  Hazel shook her head. “Your people are strange,” she said, taking another sip of her tea.

  You should talk, I thought. You’re the one stabbing a crocodile the size of a house through the heart…

  “The basic premise is the same, though,” Anna said, digging back into her plate. “Fight monsters, level up. That’s what you were doing out here, right? Farming experience?”

  “I was searching for Cores,” Hazel said, back on firmer ground. “The more dangerous the monster, the greater chance that it will have a powerful Core one can acquire after combat. Most monsters in the Verdant Ruins have a negligible level of power, like those Nippers. Every now and then, a more powerful foe can spawn. Even in low-level areas, these can sometimes be powerful enough to destroy an unwary cultivator.”

  I was familiar with this concept. Back on Earth, I knew it as RNG.

  “Is it just Cores that they drop?” I asked. I wanted to get a better feel for the kind of loot I might want to watch out for from monsters. “You seemed pretty intent on cataloguing everything that came out of that Marsh Croc, Hazel.”

  “Oh, there’s plenty of things you can pick up from monsters,” Hazel said breezily. “Crafting materials, utility items—even organs and meats for cooking recipes, believe it or not. You can use alchemy to refine them into pills and other things. But Cores are the real treasure. They’re the key to increasing a cultivator’s power.”

  Something about that stuck in my craw. “Then why aren’t there more of them out here?” I asked. “Other than you, this Zone seems totally empty.”

  Hazel’s eyes hardened. “Well, as I mentioned, Verdant Ruins is a low-level zone,” she said, pointedly avoiding my gaze. “The Cores you can farm here are less powerful than ones in higher-level areas—some of the more dangerous regions even contain Cores with special abilities. Hunting those Zones is more lucrative, so cultivators naturally focus their attention in that area.”

  I got the distinct impression Hazel wanted to move onto a different subject. As she’d said, the Verdant Ruins was the kid’s side of the pool in terms of difficulty—which meant there had to be a reason she roamed these parts, rather than head into a more dangerous section of these Mana Zones she talked about.

  Maybe you need a team to hunt down the monsters in those, I thought, looking at the woman in a new light. And Hazel doesn’t seem to be much of a team player. She’s kind of abrasive, to tell the truth—though she’s hot enough that most guys would overlook that…

  Honestly, I couldn’t wait to get to know more about her and this crazy world she called home.

  Chapter 7

  “Those words over our heads,” Anna asked, guiding Hazel away from her anger at being in a low-level Zone. “Where do they come from, exactly?”

  I understood the thrust of her question immediately. Hazel could play dumb all she wanted, but this world sure as hell felt like a video game. In a game, status messages were part of the programming—something thrown in by the designer. So who’d designed this world?

  “They’re part of the Death Defying System,” Hazel said, dipping her half-emptied mug back in the cast-iron pot. It came back filled to the brim with more steaming tea. “Would anyone like a refill? The pill’s effects are fading, I’m afraid—pretty soon, what’s left is going to turn back into water.”

  “Oh, sure,” I said, handing over my mug. Then a disturbing thought occurred to me. “The food inside us stays the same, right? We got actual nutrition from this meal, and not just a bunch of water?”

  Hazel laughed. It was the first time she’d been so merry since I’d met her, and I found I liked the sound. She had a high, tinkling laugh, like windchimes on a warm autumn morning.

  “What a thing to say,” Hazel said, handing Anna and I more tea. “The pill wouldn’t be much use if it didn’t provide nutrition, now would it? It was originally the food that you enjoyed, but through a process of alchemical refinement, it became the pill. In pill form, it still retained all the attributes of the original meal. Of course, eating a pill that contains so much food is hardly pleasurable, and such a large amount is bound to give you a stomachache.”

  Makes sense, I thought. “Go ahead. You were saying?”

  Hazel tasted her tea. Apparently it wasn’t as hot this time, as she could sip it without grimacing. “Long ago, there existed an extremely powerful cultivator. Legend says he gained a mastery over the elements unmatched by any living being—not only did he reach the zenith of Realm Five—The God Realm, but it’s said he progressed to a mysterious realm beyond that.” Hazel shrugged. “Some will argue he merely entered a fourth level of the God Realm, but it amounts to the same thing. He was the First Cultivator—and the Death Defying System is his gift to all those who came after him. When someone first learns to sense the Mana in the world, the Death Defying System activates for them.”

  “That’s... a lot to take in,” I said, thinking it over. I remembered the moment I’d first seen the floating words: the message in Eliezer’s tent te
lling me I’d created a Black Core after he stabbed me in the chest. I must have begun sensing Mana right after he wounded me—it was what had saved my life.

  Thousands of others hadn’t been so lucky.

  “I think maybe we should back up a bit,” I said, holding up my hands. This had all begun to feel a little like my first day of calculus back in college—a constant barrage of terms I only half-understood. “Maybe we ought to start with the basics. What exactly is cultivation?”

  For a moment, Hazel just stared at me. Her eyes widened as she realized I was serious. “You don’t know,” she said flatly. “You’re an Early Core Formation, and you don’t even know the most fundamental aspects of the craft?”

  “I know the most important thing,” I said, quoting Eliezer. “I know that I know nothing.”

  Hazel’s jaw dropped open. She tossed back her head and laughed, loud and long, the musical sound ringing out over the jungle.

  She wiped tears from the corners of her eyes as she recovered. “You do know the most important thing,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “Gods help me, I’m beginning to believe your story about Earth. Alright, Eric. I will treat you like a newborn infant.”

  Hazel spread her hands before her, affecting the posture of a teacher lecturing a student. “Put simply, cultivation is using the energy of the world to become more powerful. In much the same way that food enters the body, knowledge enters the mind or faith enters the spirit, the world’s energy can sustain you and give you greater power. Except cultivation is more fundamental than all three, as it deals with the very nature of the world and reality—the bedrock of all that exists.”

  “I think I understand,” I told her. I remembered the way the air currents flowed at the Marsh Croc’s command. When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the golden glow tugging Hazel’s fingers as she’d absorbed the energy of the jungle around her.

  “Good,” Hazel said, sitting back with a satisfied air. “There are many ways to cultivate one’s power. Not all involve combat, though the martial arts are a path many consider to be faster than others. This is why I was so surprised you’d never absorbed a Core: while it’s technically possible to cultivate to your level without ever engaging in combat, to do so would take a long, long time.”

  Anna raised her hand, like a student asking a question. “What about me?” she asked, looking down at her transformed body. “I turn into a weapon at Eric’s command. Where does that leave me in this whole cultivation thing?”

  “You are a cultivator as well,” Hazel said, cocking an eyebrow. “But you are also cultivated. Don’t forget it.”

  Before Anna could ask a follow up question, Hazel held up a hand. “There are five primary methods to increase one’s cultivation. Perhaps I should explain them to you, and then you could ask questions if you need a point clarified?”

  Anna didn’t look particularly pleased by that, but a hand on her thigh softened her expression. “Let Hazel do the lecture thing, babe,” I said, giving her bare leg a squeeze. I dropped my voice to a whisper. “Besides, it’ll tire her out faster.”

  Hazel heard it. She rolled her eyes as Anna giggled, then held out one finger as she began to count. “Firstly, there’s always the most primitive method. Subjecting yourself to harm via an element gains you mastery over that element.”

  My ears pricked up. “Like when the Marsh Croc hit me with that Gust. I started to Comprehend Wood, or whatever you called it.”

  “Seems to me you comprehend wood pretty well already,” Anna chuckled, giving my side a squeeze. “You sure know what to do with yours, at least…”

  Hazel made an irritated expression and avoided the remark. “Yes. For an even more extreme example, you could gain Elemental Mastery over Fire by burning yourself repeatedly—or by feeding one of your arms into a hungry fire.” A wicked look lit up Hazel’s face. “You’d definitely understand fire intimately after a thing like that—but such knowledge does not come without sacrifice. Besides, cultivation is more about incremental progress than sudden breakthroughs.”

  “Anything that comes too quickly isn’t worth it,” Anna said, keeping a perfectly straight face. “Of course. Every girl knows that…”

  For a moment, the joke went over Hazel’s head. Then it circled back, flipped around, and hit her in the face. Hazel pursed her lips, her face paling with anger.

  “Sorry! I’ll let you talk.” Anna winked at me. “So what are some methods of cultivation that don’t involve us getting the Darth Vader-on-Mustafar treatment?”

  “I have no idea what that means,” Hazel said with a sigh. “The second method is the one you’re already familiar with: learning the elements in combat. Nearly every beast and monster you’ll face in a Mana Zone has an elemental affinity—some even have multiple affinities. By engaging them in combat while focusing and opening your Mana pathways, you can come to understand the elements better.”

  “Sounds like the way I’d prefer to do it,” I said, nodding at Anna. “Say I use Anna as a weapon while I’m fighting one of these elemental monsters. Does she learn to understand their elements, as well?”

  Hazel furrowed her brow. “I... don’t know.”

  As Anna opened her mouth to make a quip, Hazel continued. “But I know how to find out,” Hazel said. “Anna, bring up your Death Defying System.”

  Anna narrowed her eyes. “How the fuck do I—” She paused. “Five…” Anna said, squinting at the air. “Five percent Comprehension of Gust Level 1!”

  “Then it seems you do,” Hazel said.

  “We’ll have to remember that,” I told Anna.

  “Actually, any kind of combat can aid in mastery of cultivation,” Hazel said mildly. “Among the Hollow Frog Guild, our members frequently spar with each other in order to augment our knowledge of the elements. It can be quite... invigorating.”

  I got the impression Hazel was one hell of a fierce competitor in the arena. Although the emphasis she gave to that last word made me wonder if she meant a little more than just punching and kicking when it came to physical combat. I certainly wasn’t going to ask her, though—I’d gotten on her bad side enough already.

  “The third way of learning the elements is the most natural, and is perhaps the very first method of cultivation to be discovered. It is possible to increase one’s power by studying nature through long periods of contemplation and meditation.”

  “Ah! Sign me up for that!” A wide grin spread across Anna’s face. “I’d love to do some cultivation on the beach, laying out on a chair with some suntan lotion rubbed into my skin…”

  “This is not a joke,” Hazel snapped. “Meditation is regarded as the slowest means of cultivation—yet, paradoxically, it can also lead to some of the greatest gains of all. It is said that there are monks at the peaks of some of the tallest mountains, who simply sit and gaze over the world in all its splendor for years at a time, absorbing the fullness of the elements. Through this contemplative practice, they carve out the very strongest of internal pathways.” Hazel folded her hands. “It may not match the thrill of combat, but some of the deepest truths can only be grasped in stillness.”

  “Preferably with a margarita, too,” Anna added, giving me a playful bump between the ribs with her elbow.

  “Fourth, knowledge can be gained through Sacred Scrolls,” Hazel said quickly—almost furtively. “Reading them provides a flash of insight directly into the cultivator’s brain, deepening their knowledge of existence. Such a method is sometimes looked down upon as a shortcut, yet the clans guard their Sacred Scrolls closely all the same. Some guilds have access to them, as well.”

  “Interesting,” I said. I didn’t think of myself as a lazy person, but I’d taken one shortcut already according to Hazel. The Core that Eliezer activated in my body had jumped me all the way to this ‘Early Core Formation’ level, something I shouldn’t have been able to achieve yet. So as far as I was concerned, shortcuts were okay with me. They hadn’t hurt me yet.

  “Could
these Scrolls drop from a monster, as well?” Anna asked.

  To her credit, Hazel thought it over. “It would have to be a very powerful monster,” she finally surmised. “The vast majority of known Scrolls are in the possession of a Clan, Guild, or another. Only high-level members know how many belong to their group—and even fewer are allowed to see them.”

  From the bitterness in tone, I knew Hazel couldn’t count herself among that number. In fact, the longer we spoke to the blonde warrior, the more I began to wonder just how far down on the totem pole she really was. Wandering a low-level region alone, barely able to take down a Marsh Croc without my help—was this girl an outcast of some kind? For the first time, I wondered what I might learn when she finally brought us before Guildmaster Ji. Were Anna and I going to be a bargaining chip of some kind? Turn over the outsiders and get yourself some brownie points? If that was the case, then I was going to be very careful when we met this Guildmaster. I wasn’t an idiot who’d walk into his own captivity, begging his captors to place the shackles around his wrists. For now, though, we could follow Hazel. As a native, she was an effective guide through the jungles, and likely the only means of finding our way out of this monster-infested place.

  “Anyway, we should move on to something else,” Hazel said, her eyes straying to the floor. Yep, definitely bitter. “Like most cultivators, you’ll most likely end up using a combination of the four methods to augment your knowledge of the elements. It’s very rare that a cultivator chooses to rely on one means of gaining knowledge exclusively: such a choice is usually made to their detriment.”

  “You said there were five methods of cultivation,” I said. “You’ve only gone over four.”

  Hazel blanched. She looked displeased, though not at us—she reserved her ire for herself. “I did, didn’t I?” she grumbled, glancing back at the fire. “Well, there is technically a fifth method. But it’s strictly forbidden.”

 

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