Cults of the Dragon Gods (Path of Transcendence Book 4)

by Brian McGoldrick

  As I use my Ki to control the bleeding from the arrow wound, my body fills with burning agony. While fighting against J'Rome, I pushed myself too hard. Non-Transcendents were never meant to wield Elemental Power. By using as much of the Od as I did, I injured my Body, Mind, and Soul. It does not feel like I am healing as fast as I should. The injuries may be bad enough to have damaged my Pattern, but I have no way to tell at the moment. The long-term repercussions could become a pervasive problem in the future.

  While I did not see my attacker, his using a bow instead of a gun means that he is almost certainly not from Earth. It seems that Woden wants me dead after all. His apparently willing capitulation after I defeated J'Rome must have been nothing but an act. It would not be the first time that the bastard has lied to me.

  After travelling randomly for a while, I cannot spot anyone that might be trailing me. I set SUV's destination to the Urehara Group's complex where we are holed up. I still do not see any signs that I am being followed, but with Power, there is no telling how many methods they might have for tracking my van that I would be unaware of. Even though Boran did something to prevent Woden from scrying on us, that does not mean that it will stop any and all means of using magic to monitor us. If I have learned nothing else, I have learned that there are no absolutes where the uses of Power are concerned.

  After the doors to the complex's garage close, I exit the SUV and enter the dormitory. As Elan looks up from her computer screen and sees the broken arrow sticking out of my arm, she frowns and quickly comes over to me.

  “Where did you encounter someone using a bow on this world?" Elan inspects by injury with her Power.

  “A sniper took a shot at me outside of my aunt's house, but I did not get a look at him. He managed to disappear as soon as he took the shot."

  “This is going to hurt. Just a little." A knife with a thin narrow blade appears in Elan's hand, and a faint smile is on her lips.

  As I give Elan a flat stare, her faint smile becomes more pronounced. The pain as she slices through the broken shaft is worse than originally being shot. With the arrow shaft cut down to the level of my rerebrace, Elan helps me remove my armor.

  “It's barbed."

  Elan smiles. “I know."

  The only options to remove a barbed arrowhead are to force the arrow through my arm or to cut open a much larger wound and extract it. Despite the pain as Elan cuts the arrowhead from my biceps, I do not show any signs of my discomfort and continue to use my Ki to restrict the bleeding. It does not hurt as much is having a sword stabbed through my back, but it is still more painful than being shot in the first place.

  With her eyes focused on my face, Elan probes my wound and the arrowhead with a form of Psi that I am not familiar with. It seems to be more like empathy than spatial awareness.

  "What are you doing?"

  Elan reveals a faint smirk. "What do you mean?"

  I do not hide my scowl. "That Power that you are using, it is Psi, but I do not recognize the technique you are using."

  Elan's smirk broadens. "It is a variation of an empathic technique that Wytches use to torture people. While training us, my Mistress once used this skill to make a man howl in agony from an inch long cut on his face. That man had previously refused to make even a single sound when she burned his cock off with red hot irons. If I were able to properly employ this technique, I would be capable of digging around in your wounds and enhancing the pain receptiveness of your nerves, but my Psi is so stunted. My Mistress was a full binary. I am not like her. I cannot use any Psi technique to its fullest. I have to use Mana to manipulate Psi, but doing it that way, weakens and blunts the effectiveness of the Psi."

  I smile at Elan. "You're a vicious bitch. I like that about you."

  Elan's smile is a dazzling mix of joy and cruelty. Sentient beings are complex, even something as moronic as an Orc, and Elan is far and away one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. She is probably more complicated and twisted that I am. Maybe, an extremely complex personality is an inevitable side effect of having a high intelligence. Whatever the reason, her mix of intellect, cruelty, lust, and obsession draw me to her. She has become mine, and I will never give her up, to anyone or anything.

  A few moments later, Elan's eyes narrow and she stares intently at my arm before turning her head to gaze toward my chest. "Something is wrong with you. Pain is flooding through your body, but you are pretending it does not exist. What happened?"

  I do not try to keep the wry smile off my lips. "It's not important. It's just a backlash from using too much of the Od. Give me a few days, and I will be back to normal."

  Elan frowns but does not say anything else. After a few minutes, she drops the arrow on the table next to me. Taking out a vial, she pours some of the red liquid inside of it onto the wounded my arm.

  This healing potion is different from the potions that I have seen Elan use before. It causes both burning and numbing sensations in my injury. Almost instantly, I feel the healing process begin to accelerate.

  "There is something … bothering me. Since we left that Area 51, I have not been able to get it out of my mind. I first noticed it when you fought that Vaettir spawn, and when you fought J'Rome, I became almost certain of what I saw. There is something restricting the usage of Power on this world the stronger your level of Transcendence becomes." Elan is not looking at me as she speaks. She seems to be staring pensively at something that I cannot see, maybe, something that only exists in her mind.

  "What's a Vaettir?"

  Elan frowns. "That Priestess, she is at least part Vaettir. They are a sort of spirit of the dead. They are not exactly living, dead, or undead. In a way they are almost all three at the same time. I have no idea where or how they originated. I have encountered a few theories about them, but nothing that seems to make any sort of sense. Most of them serve Hel, but even the followers of the other Jotun Lords see the Vaettir as abominations. Even those that serve Hel are hunted down and destroyed by the followers of the other Jotun Lords."

  I frown. "So she's another freak like us. Someone, something, that just does not belong."

  Elan's frown becomes a little sad. "Are you looking to add another broken woman to your collection?"

  I snort and give a half-smile. "Actually, I just want to fuck her. In reality, there are only two kinds of women: the ones you want to fuck, and the ones you don't want to fuck. Anyone who is biologically male that says any differently is either a eunuch or a faggot, not that there's much difference between the two."

  Elan smirks slightly. "So, you're a toxically masculine, cisgender, sexist male."

  "That is not funny." I do not conceal the irritation in my voice.

  Elan's smirk turns into a grin. "Your world has the most warped views on what males and females are and should be that I have ever encountered. There are some very strange cultures and nations in the Battleground of the Damned, but the way that your rulers have twisted and broken the Minds and Souls of the people of your culture is impressive. I do not think that any of the Wytches in the Atran'ler Empire could ever of come up with something as insidious, demeaning, and destructive is this culture of political correctness on your world.

  "Honestly, I am impressed. There is no sign of Power being used to cause this warped manner of thinking. It seems to have been done entirely through cultural manipulation."

  In my entire life, there are only a handful of times when I have been left flabbergasted. This is the first time that I have seen Elan reveal anything close to honest admiration for something connected to the Earth. How could she possibly have anything even resembling respect for this warped, fucked up world I came from.

  "How can you be impressed by this shithole? No. How did you manage to figure this out in such a short period of time?"

  With a hint of confusion in her eyes, Elan looks at me. "You gave me the key. Did you not realize this? That Delphi system appears to have access to everything that exists in your worlds electronic data netw
ork. I think it probably has access to everything that has been deleted from the data network as well. Many of the documents that were brought up when I was searching did not seem to exist in the data network any longer, but Delphi still retains them somewhere."

  Delphi is a monstrosity that I do not come even close to understanding. Its reach and capabilities far exceed anything that would be available with current Earth technology. After all, there is no normal corporation or organization that is making use of the technology that can use Power to create an evolving a spell pattern. I have no idea what I could possibly use it for on Taereun, but I want Delphi in my possession. I want to understand the nature of the pattern and how it evolves.

  "I do not know if it was Woden or the mortals of this world that developed the philosophy and structure of this political correctness system, but which ever it was, he or they are geniuses. To create a weapon that merely uses words and ideas to eviscerate the Minds and Souls of entire nations is something I would have never thought possible.

  "Once I realized what was being done, I cast several spells that evaluated the patterns, specifically the Minds and Souls, of the people in this city. Because I can only see the results, I cannot be certain of the mechanisms that caused it. I only have a theory.

  "By inculcating their own young, your world has neutered its males and turned its females into twisted things that are trying to be imitation males. They have created people that think they are dolls, people that think they are plants, people that think they are the elves and vampires in the storybooks. I could go on and on with examples, but the point is, they have managed to use simple ideas and words to stunt or erode the Souls and the Minds of billions of living beings. They did it to their own young, their own offspring. The sheer self-centered malice and viciousness of the people who did this deserves to be admired. There are not even many Wytches that would devise a plan so cruel and uncaring in regards to their culture and their own races progeny."

  Elan's eyes widen and she stares into space for a few moment. "I never realized it, but I suppose that even pathetic cowards have their own forms of strength. In large enough swarms, they are like rabid rats that will mindlessly attack and destroy anything they fear that does not exterminate them first. Nothing is truly absolute, but their mindless swarm mentality disgusts me. To protect themselves from facing reality or having to simply hear something that might be hurtful to their mentalities, they have the will to damn their entire nation, even their entire species, to a future of stagnation and eventual extinction. It is nothing short of racial suicide through cowardice.

  "In spite of their cowardice, they still displayed remarkable intelligence. While denying it, they understood that there is no such thing as true equality. Everyone and everything is different and no two things are exactly the same. Even two bottles of air that are the same size are not exactly the same. At the very least, there are differences in the number of molecules of the gasses that compose them. This society is predicated on turning the self-hatred and fear of the weak and cowardly into weapons against those that were a little stronger. Some among them clearly saw this and understood that they would always need victims to vent their frustration and rage over their inadequacies on, or their society would collapse and turn on itself. Originally, their political and intellectual opponents were their targets. Those that did not slavishly follow them were demonized and destroyed in campaigns of fake moral outrage, but once they eliminated those opponents, they needed new victims to feed to their swarm of mindless followers. That is why people like you become targets in your society. So, they chose males, heterosexuals, followers of religions, anyone that did not fit their limited standards became safe outlets for the natural aggression and desire for survival and dominance that exists in nearly all sentient creatures, no matter how weak and cowardly they might be.

  "This world is a work of art sculpted by the insane."

  I am not quite sure how to read the expression on Elan's face. There is definitely disgust, but I think there is just a hint of awe in her eyes.

  "You do not think this was done by Woden, do you?"

  Elan appears thoughtful. "Woden or another God probably instigated it, but the implementers of those ideas are clearly the inhabitants of this world. He must have planted ideas or their seeds in the minds of some people of your Earth that were highly intelligent but born cowards. The purveyors of the twisted philosophy would hide behind political activist groups and instigate others to violently attack their own nation, but they were too cowardly to take part in the violence themselves. The historical trail presented by Delphi was fascinating. There were so many parallel tracks used to force change on your world for it to be something that evolved naturally. Hundreds of artificially designed social and political organizations were created. They banded together over time to attack those in power that opposed them, but their only commonality is that they all appear to have been aimed at the singular goal of creating of your current society.

  "They fanned the conflicts between sexes, between racial groups, between the sane in the mentally damaged. Where there were no preexisting conflicts, they engendered artificial ones. They controlled the educational processes and changed the meaning of the language, until the people reached the point where they can no longer tell natural from unnatural, light from dark, or even, survival from suicide. They celebrate practices that are aimed at doing nothing but breaking down the social structures of their own nations and exterminating their people. Can you see what an incredible weapon this is? Could you imagine inflicting this on an enemy nation and sitting back laughing as they self-destruct?"

  My frown is introspective. I never really though about, or to be honest cared, how modern Earth society originated. I just wanted to escape from it. Elan is different from me. She has studied how cultures work, how people think. It was probably all done in her search for vengeance, but the result is a deep understanding of psychology and sociology. Even if she does not call them by those names, it does not change her level of knowledge and understanding.

  I can comprehend just how powerful a weapon Earth's culture could be, but I would derive no pleasure from using it. When I have an enemy, I want to crush them. I want to beat them down. I want to hack them up. I want to break them with my bare hands and hear their agonized screams. Destroying a nation or world by somehow infecting it with the sick culture that I grew up in would just leave me feeling empty.

  "But what happens if these ideas and philosophies make their way back into your own nation? Into your own culture? One thing I understand about the Earth and its culture is that it is incredibly appealing to the weak, the cowardly, the treacherous. I could easily see the weaker and more cowardly among the politicians trying to use this against the stronger members of their own nations and having it get out of control. Even if I ignore Earth, inside Yggdrasil, I have never seen a nation or culture where the strong outnumber the weak and the cowardly. No, I take that back. There are the Calistene, but their entire cultural is built being feeding their mercenary military. Other than the Calistene, too often, some of the strongest are cowards at heart."

  The Calistene live in the desolate Calist Moors in the Battleground of the Damned. From birth to the grave, every single member of their society exists to be a member of or support their mercenary companies. The Calist Moors are a cold harsh environment that does not welcome human life, and the Calistene have a large population. Man for man, their mercenaries are among the strongest fighters in the entire Battleground of the Damned. Without their mercenary companies constantly funneling gold and food back into the their nation, it would collapse into poverty and starvation. Anyone who does not contribute is cast out, and anyone who rebels is killed.

  Elan frowns thoughtfully for a minute or so, but I see the disgust slowly filling her eyes. "You are right. I understand why those Dvergar monsters think your world should be destroyed. If a culture lacked an endemic focus and purpose like the Calistene, the existence these philosophies and the plan
s to implement them could lead to the destruction of whatever nation possessed them. We alone should retain the knowledge or how and why this culture works, but this world is insanely self-destructive it needs to be put down like a rabid animal."

  With a brilliant smile, Elan looks me straight in they eye. "But we cannot let Delphi be destroyed along with it."

  As I laugh out loud, Elan gives me a strange look.

  My grim smile should clearly reveal my avarice. "I already intended to take Delphi with me. The only question is how to transport it. Come on, I'll show you the source of Delphi. Or at least, a source of it. It has a pattern that is like nothing I have seen before. I want to take it back to Taereun and study it. If I can understand it, the secrets that I learn should expand my understanding of the Metaverse and improve my skills as a Maker."

  * * * * *

  When Elan and I reach the patterning machinery for the Delphi chips, Dacbold is standing in front of the equipment. His tree trunk sized arms are crossed over his chest, and a thunderous scowl twists his features. Even without my empathy working properly, I am able to tell that he is more fascinated than I have ever seen him. He does not turn in my direction until I am standing next to him.

  Dacbold glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "Is this the secret behind the power of the Delphi system?"

  I do not bother to hide my own frown. "Yeah."

  "This thing should not be here, on Earth. I have encountered records of something similar to this among with Dvergar archives. The True Dragons used to give spell formation weapons based on magical technologies similar to this to the Orc legions that they used to conquer the non-Transcendent races that they dominated."

  Involuntarily, my eyes widen in surprise. "Is this really Dragon technology?"