“Hah! I forgot how you like to complain and complain like a woman sometimes. There is a problem? Fix it! Whining about it isn’t going to solve anything.”
“ROOOO! INCOMING!” Rodrick turns away from his friend, wiping the smug grin off his face as he grabs his trusty axe. Ferah is legging it towards his position, running like the wind. Squinting his eyes, he doesn’t even need to infuse them with qi before he can see the problem. A collection of mountain-dwelling mutants is chasing the girl, all of them bleating angrily.
“What did you do? Pull their tails?”
“NOOO! I just took some of the plants they were eating!” Ferah skitters to a halt, hiding behind the lumberjack’s broad back.
Nyf’s eyes regain their clarity as he draws the slender sword from his sheath. Ferah is hopping from foot to foot, not drawing a weapon.
“You will need to fight one of these days, girl.”
“Nuh-uh! Miss Re never fights anymore, she just lays around! I wanna do that but walk around everywhere without doing anything.”
Rodrick sighs deeply, tightens his grip on his axe, and starts running towards the oncoming herd. Nyf and Ferah are left behind, one panting while clutching a sword, the other grinning while running in circles.
“Look Nyffy! I got you some food and now we will rest. Give me my points later, okay?”
Grinning back at her, he nods. “Good job girl. I knew I could count on you.” The two bump fists conspiratorially while Rodrick chops down the stampeding horde of mutant goats.
⁂
“So, you agree then. Starting with a bloodcore is the best.”
“No, you stupid piece of mucous membrane, listen to what I say for once. Bloodcore is the most effective cleansing base, but its gruesome way of ejecting impurities will cause a lot of trauma.”
“So, bonecore then? That one is the most comfortable...”
“NO! Teach save me from this idiot. That one just shoves impurities around and doesn’t actually eject them. I suggest that everyone starts with a braincore in order to manually cleanse the body.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. I’ve just finished correlating definite proof that choosing an initial system that's not fully the subject's choice has rather detrimental effects. Look and see for yourself.” The white robed beastkin tosses a green rock to his colleague, who catches it and puts it to his forehead.
The two discussing beastkin are once again arguing inside their laboratory on Tree’s moon. The large windows show a little less sky this time. More and more dark blue endlessness is taken up by towering structures and tiered pieces of architecture. The overall shape, height and homogeneousness of the buildings has improved massively. Where makeshift shacks used to stand, sturdy constructions have taken their place. Mashups of random styles are transformed into pieces of engineering that no longer look like a rich kid’s toy box.
But, for some reason, all the buildings are still white. The only colourful buildings on the moon are the pieces of pre-fab that are being fabricated.
“Okay, I give up. Forced or second choice systems average a ten percent power loss. What do we do now?”
“Educate the masses. The new data packet containing required learning for new students has already been updated and approved.”
“So, all this research has been for nought? We suffered through that impurity collection and analyzation process for nothing?” Horror now dawns in the scientist’s eyes as he realizes that the last week of work has been for absolutely nothing.
“No, no. There is still merit in our findings. The conclusion that each cultivation system rejects different types of impurities is really helpful. Recultivating always came with a long period of sickness. The recovery period has been reduced by three quarters now that we know which nutrients to supplement, based on the cultivation base change.”
“Ah, yeah. Re-cultivating is indeed shitty. Good to know that we helped with that.” The two beastkin look at each other, sharing a moment of camaraderie in their shared suffering.
“But that theory of relative qi transition based on intent categorization is absolute trash. You, your mother, your grandmother, and all your offspring should feel ashamed for that garbage theory.”
A fire lights up in their eyes, burning away the previous sappy moment. “You’re one to talk! What about that chemical unity experiment you proposed? I’d say you’re looking for a way to kill us all!”
The two start bickering again, the other people in the lab continuing their work with relieved hearts now that the duo is cursing at each other again.
⁂
“Honey! How long are you going to remain angry?” Bassik dodges another supersonic projectile while lazily ducking. He is running beside his mount, another of those long-legged birds. He is thankful for the fact that they just arrived on land, the lethal attacks his wife keeps sending his way would be a harder to dodge if they were still travelling across the sea.
“A HUNDRED YEARS, YOU UNFAITHFUL CUR!”
Smiling as he listens to the soothing shrieks of his wife, Bassik dodges another projective. “Mind the bird, honey. It didn't do anything wrong!”
“Don’t you dare be snippy with me. I didn’t re-cultivate without telling you! I didn’t go and earn the biggest point reward ever given out while you were sleeping. HOW DARE YOU!”
Rubbing his head in embarrassment, Bas looks around. He dodges another thrown rock as he scans the area. He might have been a bit hasty in switching over to his current eyecore system, but that does not mean he regrets it. It took him quite a while to adjust, but he is pretty sure that he will keep this system forever.
Blinking once, he switches off the layer of hypernatural sight. Walking forwards a bit, his feet shift in the loose sand as he surveys the desert stretching out in front of him. In order to get away from things a bit - and in order to let his wife vent her fury - they had taken a scouting mission. First, they had visited their previous village, seeing it completely abandoned.
They left after Rityn had thrown half the buildings at him, heading to the north-eastern desert via the sea. Bassik agreed to steer close to the shore, and Rityn agreed to stop throwing things with lethal force.
Hopping back on his bird mount, Bassik steers it back to the shore. He blinks again, another layer of vision immediately overlapping his natural sight. A streak of information passing through his head tells him to dodge, so he does so. Seconds later, his hair is ruffled by a speedy rock flying by.
“Now, now, honey. That was rather fast, you know. I'm not a sturdy heartcore anymore.”
“AND THAT’S EXACTLY MY PROBLEM!” Rityn shouts her grievances out for the world to hear. “I could have understood you choosing to go down any other path, but why the eyes! And why did I not think of that earlier? So simple yet so smart...”
“Why would you want an eyecore, anyways? You were always the thinker, and I was the watcher, no? I think this works out perfectly. Here, take some more points.” With a big smile on his face, Bassik waves his ring-clad hand towards his wife, who physically recoils.
“NO! I can handle the fact that you can see better than me, even though you only use it to avoid your just punishment. I can understand that you got a lot of points for pioneering this cultivation base, and I totally understand the rewards you got for seeing the planet’s communication lines, and the satellite locations. That's worth a lot of points too. I understand...”
“Then, I will ask again honey. Why are you so angry, my snoozlepoodle? What has you so grumpy, my munchkin? Here, have some more points, pudding.” Bassik looks at the purple-skinned woman with all the warmth and love he can muster.
“THAT! YOU’RE NOT MY SUGAR DADDY!” Now grinning at his furious wife, he keeps dodging or deflecting all the projectiles she throws in her rage. The meaning and understanding that projectiles will fly through certain points in space is all too clear to his power-filled eyes.
Rityn might seem mad, but she is still a braincore and in full control of her faculties
. Bassik is actually looking forward to tonight. He caught on to the fact that Rityn is merely testing his capabilities in a myriad of ways. The items she throws have been increasing in speed, size, and trickiness, slowly allowing him time to adjust and practice his sight in combat situations.
Bassik just wishes she would show this affection in other ways sometimes. Something in his wife’s mind prevents her from openly showing affection. Instead, she will surely pretend to be exhausted again later today. Like the evening before, she will probably insist on finding a cave and then insist on acting all sleep-drunk, and when Rityn is sleep-drunk, she gets touchy-feely.
Bassik can handle it, though, and showering her in points is just too amusing to stop. Bassik tries very hard to hide the smile on his face as the duo continues travelling north at high speed. The jungle - their scouting destination - comes into view by the time the sun has started setting. A few places need to be explored - some anomalies, a few possible settlements locations, and the strange, star-shaped, geometric and enormous pillar sticking above the treeline.
Smiling widely, Bassik leads his half-mumbling wife and their mounts into a cave he saw from kilometres away.
chapter forty-eight
Quarrel
“I wanna go!” Bord whines while looking at the massive mountain with impatience written all over his face. “Stop touching that water already, and let's punch dragons!”
“Nearly done,” Angeta replies gruffly. The beastkin is still hunched over the side of the boat, her hands trailing the water. The vessel is moored just off the coast and its occupants are taking it easy. Everyone except for Bord and Angeta have pulled out some form of chair and are chatting while relaxing for a time. The control panel next to the ship’s wheel is glowing against the harsh sunlight, the stealth field indicator lit up.
“No, that one is definitely hiding its allegiance,” says Selis.
“The yellow one? That’s Fin-Keeta. She’s crazy,” replies Re-Haan.
“Which one ate your tail again?” asks Ragni.
“The blue one that keeps getting beat up,” replies Angeta. “And I’m done. Can you mark them, Re?”
“Hmm, sure. I’m busy so I won’t join unless it's needed.” Re-Haan opens her eyes and looks at the tumultuous mountain. All the cultivators on the boat sense branches shoot from her sunbathing form, invisible tendrils of qi-formed wood touching about a quarter of the brawling dragons. She then closes her eyes again and continues baking in the sun with all her might.
“Can I go now?” asks Bord, who is now literally trembling.
Angeta sighs as she stands up. “Yeah, su-”
“WHEEEEEEEEeeeee!” And Bord flies off, a deep red glow hovering around his skin. The distance between the ship and the massive mountain is closed at high speed and Bord slams feet first into a large blue dragon.
“BORD YOU FAT FUCK! NOT THOSE, BEAT UP THE ONES WITHOUT THE MARK!” Roaring like a tiger, Angeta jumps after him, an intricate and complex weave of plants visible underneath her fluttering clothes. The grass stilts retract as she soars through the air while thin leaves sprout from her torso, guiding her fall.
Re-Haan glances at the developing chaos, clicks her tongue, and closes her eyes again. Selis and Ragni share a look before they rise. A few cubic meters of water rise and crystallizes around the blue-haired girl. A frosty flap later, she is also heading towards the mountain. Ragni twirls on her toes, unwrapping some of the stone laced cloth she is wrapped in.
“Okay then, I’m going to help fight dragons now. No, that’s not right. I’m going there to help break up a fight between full-grown members of the Flight. Why though? Why am I going to jump between two large groups of fighting dragons?” Ragni takes a deep, deep breath, vaguely salutes Re-Haan, and jumps. “FIFTY THOUSAND POINTS, HERE I COOOOME!”
The fight between dragons started days ago. The All-Dragon had continued his campaign of suppressing every single dragon associated with the previous All-Dragon and Re-Haan. This shadow war filled with fawning supplicants, stubborn old folks, and principled martyrs came to a head a few days ago when the All-Dragon caught wind of some news.
Dragons had witnessed floating rings that made their way towards the abandoned part of Flight mountain. Upon closer inspection, all the door-holding members in “voluntary seclusion” found to have ring-shaped holes in them.
Breaking down the doors proved difficult, the All-Dragon having to wake one of the lesser sleepers - an earth dragon of the previous generation - in order to get the doors open. That’s when they realized that every single one of the suppressed members had grown immensely powerful. They also all had glowing green stones stuck to their head somewhere and a black ring on their finger.
The All-Dragon commanded them to hand these items over and did not suspect that it would lead to a fight. Or rather, a chaotic escape only stopped when one of the neutrals - a reclusive blue who had locked himself in after claiming to feel sick - forced everyone to stop.
This blue was one of the members sent out on a raid weeks ago and had triumphantly claimed that he’d managed to eat parts of their prey while the rest just got beat up. This dragon is called Han-Oord Fur-Nys and he had then proceeded to become sick. Trying to hide his shame - dragons never get sick - he locked himself up.
Re-Haan had sent him a ring too, just in case he still was suffering from qi poisoning, along with a bit of explanation. That’s why she had marked him as an edge case. This lacklustre marking had led Bord to wail on the poor guy.
Han-Oord had tried to stop the fighting, his longer qi-exposure giving him an initial edge. This advantage quickly disappeared when he became the common enemy of both factions; and this is where the students came in, in the middle of a fight between two factions who were mainly focussing on beating on the guy who jumped between them.
Then Bord crashes into the guy, smashing the blue dragon into the mountain and burying him in rubble. This was followed by Angeta flying in, growing out a shitload of fibrous grass, using it to clear the rubble in record time, and then dragging the dragon out into the open again.
Angeta is now forcefully opening the mouth of a dragon thirty meters wide and manhandling him like he’s a massive stuffed toy. Bord is just looking around, cracking his knuckles. Selis gracefully lands, swirls of fog settling around her, and Ragni bounces off the floor, her fall broken by stiff cloth.
“GIVE ME MY TAIL BACK! COME ON YOU SHITLIZARD, GIVE IT BACK. HOW DARE YOOOUUUU! I GOT IN SOOOO MUCH TROUBLE!” Tears in her eyes, Angeta crawls inside the dragon’s mouth. Plants grow from her hands and invade the lizard’s gizzard. Everyone flinches and looks away as the dragon gurgles, whimpers, and cries out in discomfort.
A full, painful minute later, the beastkin cradles a slime covered length of narrow bones. She walks out of the whining dragon’s mouth, wiping her hands and skeletal tail on leaves she tosses away after.
“Already done?” asks Bord with a disappointed sulk in his voice.
“They stopped fighting already, so I guess we’re done here. Re-Haan! Whadda ya wanna do?” Selis looks around, the crystal halo of ice tinkling around her as she shouts towards the hidden boat.
“WHO DARES!” The entire mountain trembles as the mist far up the slope churns. Rocks start tumbling down the barren rocks as the trembling intensifies. A single being walks out of the roiling mist, bulging muscles gleaming in the sun, as the All-Dragon strolls down the slope.
A deep and feminine sigh can be heard somewhere from the sea. Some dragons look at the source of the sound, not seeing anything but empty sea. The overly muscled man is halfway down the mountain, his long strides eating up the distance, when a brown dragon’s head, ten meters long, emerges from the roiling clouds.
This dragon is the largest so far, and it immediately steals everyone's attention as it makes its way down in a relaxed manner. The muscular man seems irritated by the stolen spotlight but continues walking. A hidden streak of annoyance on his face, he puffs up his chest, obviously about to speak.
“KKKRRRROROOOOOOAAAOAAAAARRRRRR” Only to be interrupted by the ear-shattering roar of the dragon behind him. The barely clad muscle man stumbles as he is nearly buried in a small rockslide. His growl is lost in the roar of falling rock. His frustrated yell ends as he turns into a flash of light, a black dragon emerging from the rising dust seconds later.
“So, these are the dissidents?” The massive brown dragon is now fully visible in all its glory. Its shape is the same as the rest, a relatively slender winged version of the European dragon; its size is what truly sets it apart from the other dragons, who cap out at a diminutive fifty metres. The black All-Dragon is the biggest at sixty metres long. The brown behemoth is easily half a kilometre in length. Its voice is a fitting rumble, the low tones not within a mortals’ hearing range, shaking everyone's chest.
“Yes, Ancestor. The mortals have incited dissension and rebellion. We would surely be cast out were the Maker to return now.” The black dragon’s voice is an unfitting high pitch, its comically squeaky voice even more ridiculous when compared to the thunderous rumble of the Ancestor.
“Let me take care of them then. I long for more slumber. Do not wake me after this.” Having reached the base of the mountain, the dragon starts wafting with yellow power. The stone under its large claws ripples as the wave of mana - visible even to mortal eyes - explodes from its toothed maw.
“YEEESSSSSSS! FIGHT ME!” The undulating wave stops the moment Bord lands on its snout, smashing the house-sized head into the soft ground.
What follows is a truly epic fight. Bord glows a red so deep that it’s nearly black at times, as he tussles with a beast that weighs thousands of tonnes. The entire mountain shakes as sharp changes in gravity toss both boy and dragon back and forth, the dragon’s enraged roars mixing with Bord’s full-throated whoops.
The Dao of Magic: Book 3: A Western Cultivation Series Page 41