Dragon Heart: Iron Will. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 2

by Kirill Klevanski

  Hadjar swung his blade. He summoned forth the wind that was calmly blowing around him. However, the blue pillar was able to freeze the very air, leaving a clear trail of ice in its wake. The wind barrier ended up being nothing more than an annoying obstacle for it to break through.

  Hadjar soon found himself enveloped in an icy cocoon. It dropped to the ground and split. Hadjar, numerous cuts covering his body, crashed into the very same snowdrift from where he’d recently been watching the bear.

  The multiton carcass was already swinging its titanic paws to crush the bug that had foolishly attacked it.

  At the last second, Hadjar rolled down to the other side of the snowdrift and the bear landed not on him, but instead, on the spot where he had been moments before. A wave of snow was kicked up, and the beast swung its paw with an earth-splitting roar. The blue glow it launched from its claws collided with Hadjar’s blade and forced him back a dozen yards.

  Feeling like he was approaching his death in the form of a bottomless abyss, Hadjar slammed his hand on the ground. Again, he threw himself into the air, but this time, it was just two inches above the ground—enough for the rest of the beast’s attack to pass under him, but not enough to lose his maneuverability.

  Hadjar stuck his sword into the snow and swung it, sending the shimmering image of Moon Beam toward his enemy. Only now it was hidden within the wave of snow that obscured the beast’s view.

  The bear had enough intelligence to understand that something was seriously wrong. Bloodied, it rose up on its hind legs and emitted a deep growl. Once again, a pillar of energy came out of its mouth. It instantly froze both the snow wave and the ghostly blade that Hadjar had hidden within it.

  But it was too late.

  Taking advantage of the distraction, Hadjar floated above the ground like a fallen leaf. His shadow was a black raven, his sword a dragon’s fang.

  He sheathed his sword, then sharply withdrew it again to send another steel beam flying toward the towering beast of ice before him.

  Without wasting any time, he soared into the air and did it again. The steel light was now aimed not only at the bear’s chest but also at its brainstem.

  Landing behind the beast, Hadjar took a low stance and raised his sword over his shoulder.

  “Strong Wind!” With one swing, he called forth a new tornado of snow, wind, and razor-sharp swords.

  Driven by its instincts, the bear defended against the strike that was hurtling toward its head, but in the same instant, the tornado hit it in the back, and the steel beam ravaged its chest. It ended up caught between a rock and a hard place.

  The tornado cut and tore into its skin and muscles, inflicting a lot of minor wounds. The force of the tornado was so great that it dragged the bear forward, directly toward the piercing beam, which was already greedily digging into the beast’s ribcage.

  Trying to escape, the bear roared angrily, but it was already too late. The force pushing against its chest and the force pushing it from behind worked in tandem and the bear fell.

  Rivers of blood drenched the snow as Hadjar sank to his right knee, breathing heavily.

  “Status,” he croaked.

  Name

  Hadjar

  Level of cultivation

  Formation (Fragments)

  Strength

  2.4

  Dexterity

  2.7

  Physique

  2.2

  Energy points

  0.9 (4.4)

  As he’d suspected, his remaining energy was only enough for one stance. And if his plan hadn’t worked, it wouldn’t have been the bear bleeding out in the snow right now, but Hadjar.

  Pulling out his boot knife, Hadjar barely turned the beast’s heavy body over, and then confidently carved the core out of the fallen bear’s chest with a couple of quick slices. It was a huge, blue amber, almost perfectly round, with only a few cracks and muddy spots on its surface.

  If the beast had reached the fourth stage of the Alpha level, then it would have easily beaten Hadjar. It would also have had a purer and less fractured core of power within its chest.

  Alas, no one would ever know if this bear could have attained such power. In this world, where everyone fought for their place under the vast sky, the cause of death for a once proud and free beast had been a matter of luck. A matter of Hadjar.

  It was a stupid coincidence that the bear had crossed the General’s path. But that alone had been enough to sever its thread of life. One that had existed for almost a thousand years.

  After catching his breath and hiding the core within the folds of his clothes, Hadjar climbed up the cliff. He saw the most amazing sight spread out before him: a raging ocean of white rocks, which rose with the mountain peaks and then dropped down to dark and bottomless crevices.

  “Scan,” Hadjar ordered. “Search criteria: energy anomalies.”

  For about a quarter of an hour, the neural network scanned the surrounding area while Hadjar devoured a piece of jerky. He had melted snow in his flask. The water was tasteless, but cold and refreshing enough to help.

  With a ‘click’, the neural network finished scanning.

  A green grid appeared in front of Hadjar, red dots popping up one by one.

  [Anomalies found: 137]

  Damn it!

  Chapter 116

  137 separate anomalies within only a few dozen acres amazed him. Why were there so many of them? The librarian had said that only one of them was the entrance to the ancient cultivator’s tomb. The rest of them... If only Hadjar had more time, he might’ve been able to inspect them all.

  But he couldn’t even afford the time to check two of them. Nero could die at any moment, so Hadjar needed to drastically reduce the number of displayed anomalies. Therefore, he needed to change his search criteria.

  In fact, he had always had a flawed understanding of how his neural network actually worked. Back on Earth, which now seemed like just a dream, he had never been interested in the technological aspects of life, and he hadn’t really caught on to the intricacies of such complex structures and devices. Now, after living for almost twenty-three years with the network, he had slowly begun to understand the principles behind its operation.

  As he had found out long ago, it didn’t have its own ‘database’. It just had unrestricted access to any part of his memory, at any time. It could also affect his optic nerves. Otherwise, how else could he explain all these messages and the green grid, which, like a scanner, currently covered the observable space before his eyes?

  Therefore, going by these simple facts, it was safe to assume that the neural network had only an analytical core. Hadjar had no idea where this core was located, but he had no doubt in its ability to calculate whatever he asked of it.

  “Sort the search results according to age. Display the thirty oldest anomalies,” he requested.

  Hadjar crossed his fingers, hoping it would work. As he’d expected, the analytical network was able to effortlessly calculate the time frame for the appearance of these anomalies. Most likely, after a hundred years of meditation on the cliff, Hadjar would also have been able to do so, as the neuronet used only the data that Hadjar had access to—if only he knew how it did so. However, its ‘thought process’ was a hundred times faster than his own. If not a thousand times…

  With a new ‘click’, the number of red dots decreased dramatically:

  [Anomalies that match the criteria: 29]

  This was great progress. However, these twenty-nine anomalies had appeared almost simultaneously. By local standards, of course: the time gap between all of them wasn’t longer than a single century.

  Hadjar wiped his hands on the snow and drank some more fragrant but cool water.

  He needed to find another sorting criterion. In his current situation, there wasn’t a particular difference between a hundred or ten options. He had neither the ability nor the desire to rely on good luck.

  How else could he identify the cultivator’s tomb? Peo
ple had searched for it for thousands of years. Every bit of land had been rummaged through, and yet the tomb remained hidden.

  The first thing that came to his mind was: “Remove all anomalies that can be seen with the naked eye.”

  He heard a single click a moment later and only twelve red dots remained in his vision. Hadjar wouldn’t be able to detect these, even if he came very close to their location. He had only found them now thanks to the use of special artifacts or, in his specific case, the computational power of his neural network. Hadjar couldn’t begin to understand how it could calculate their location at such a distance.

  Maybe if he lived another hundred years, he would be able to understand it.

  He had to keep thinking. Alas, it was impossible to tell the neuronet to simply: “Find me the entrance to the tomb”. It wouldn’t work—the neural network wouldn’t be able to understand what he wanted. Why had Hadjar wasted his time with such a thought? He’d already tried to do something similar…

  His eyes widened as he got an idea. “Show only those anomalies that can harm living organisms.”

  He heard another click and the number of red dots was reduced to three.

  Just three, but they were located in completely different areas. One was at a distant mountain peak, hiding in the clouds. It would take him a day just to get there. Maybe less, if he used the ‘Ten Ravens’ Technique instead of running.

  The second was in a deep gorge, where an aura made up of many powerful creatures could be felt. Each one of the creatures that lived in that dark place was most likely several times stronger than the Ice Bear he had just fought. They were probably at the same level as the Tiger that had been summoned by the sect.

  The third and most nondescript was on a wide, deserted plateau. It shone directly in the center, among the tranquil sea of snow.

  Hadjar tried to reduce the number of results again, but the neural network gave him the same three red dots. Apparently, that was its limit.

  “Damn it,” Hadjar cursed again. “How can I check them all quickly enough?”

  Even if he assumed that he would be able to miraculously survive in the dark gorge, there were dozens of rocks and cliffs that he would have to traverse between him and each of the anomalies. It would take him almost five days to get from the first anomaly to the second.

  His friend didn’t have that much time to spare. Therefore, by some miracle, Hadjar needed to correctly guess which of the three was the entrance to the ancient tomb.

  Of course, he could always jump into the arms of Lady Luck, but she usually responded by giving him a slap. Hadjar didn’t believe in his luck much. It had never been his strong suit. And yet, he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.

  He couldn’t continue to play this mental game. After all, it was possible to list equally logical arguments in favor of each of the three destinations.

  The ancient cultivator could’ve placed the entrance among the clouds so that only the most determined of practitioners could reach it. According to the Librarian, only those who hadn’t reached the stage of a true cultivator could get into the tomb.

  And they also had to be under twenty years of age. Thanks to his rebirth, according to the neural network, Hadjar was only... three years old.

  But in that same vein, it was possible to make such an argument for the gorge as well. Only an incredibly talented, brilliant practitioner could survive in the gorge and find the entrance. It was a sort of test to determine if he was worthy of the legacy.

  Or maybe the cultivator had placed the entrance on the flat plateau. Maybe he’d wanted to fool everyone. After all, who would, in their right mind, leave the entrance to their last refuge unprotected and in such an exposed location?

  He could play this game for eternity, bouncing back and forth between locations. And each time he did, he would find more and more logical deadlocks and inconsistencies and, as a result, he wouldn’t be able to make his choice for centuries to come. Like in that story where a man held out two glasses to his enemy. One glass was filled with poison. The other one contained only water.

  The man took one of them and gave his opponent a choice—change glasses or leave everything as it was.

  Two people seemed to be playing. But in reality, only one of them had a choice. And he was playing against himself. A losing proposition, as a man can’t really defeat himself…

  Hadjar smiled. After all, it wasn’t a human heart that now beat in his chest.

  He closed his eyes and sank deeply into himself. There, in the darkness, he saw a broad and boundless river washing over all things, past and future. The river of unlimited energy.

  This time, he wasn’t looking for the sword energy in its depths. No. Just a hint of something. But he didn’t know what that thing was. Then he found it. Maybe Fate had prompted him, or perhaps the east wind, which had unexpectedly come to this place despite the season.

  It blew in again, nestling in Hadjar’s hair and telling him stories and legends. The legend of the warrior whose fury had bent the sky and dominated the very ground he’d walked on.

  Thanks to these stories, Hadjar was able to notice that, on the flat plateau, away from the bustle, the anomaly radiated a dimensional, steel light. As if someone had forever captured the gleam of steel within it.

  The silhouette of a blade.

  Chapter 117

  Three hours, and several rather painful falls later, Hadjar finally reached the plateau. He found himself in the middle of a flat blanket of snow, surrounded only by the distant mountain peaks and passes. The area resembled a bowl or a straightened, gigantic palm more than anything else.

  Despite his desperate circumstances, it was nice here.

  The wind didn’t reach this place, as it was blocked by the rocks surrounding the plateau, and so snowflakes fell calmly to the ground at Hadjar’s feet.

  Hadjar stretched his hand out and one of them landed softly on his palm. It melted soon after and drops of cold water rolled down onto the white, fluffy blanket at his feet.

  Guided by the approaching red glow, Hadjar came upon... nothing. He was still on the plateau, but he only knew that there was something wrong here thanks to the neural network. If not for it, he would’ve walked by this place, oblivious to the tomb’s location below the surface.

  It didn’t stand out. There were no oddities in the flow of energy, no special sensations, and no mysterious whispers or anything like that. There was no sense of mystique or ‘awesomeness’. There wasn’t even a snowdrift here, merely a simple field of the snow-white blanket into which Hadjar’s feet sank to his ankles.

  And yet, the neuronet indicated that the anomaly was here, surrounded by a red glow (which no one else could see), and now Hadjar was standing right in the center of it.

  “What am I supposed to do?” The General said thoughtfully.

  He’d never plundered tombs before or even learned how to open the entrance to one. However, Hadjar had a few ideas that he would have to try out if he was going to succeed.

  Squatting down, he put his palm on the cold snow. Closing his eyes and concentrating, Hadjar gradually began to release ‘drops’ of energy through the pores in his skin. They intertwined like ghostly threads, piercing the snow and rock underfoot. They sank lower and lower, like the roots of a young tree.

  “Come on,” Hadjar hissed through clenched teeth. “Come on!”

  Ten minutes of silence passed, and then an electric current hit his nerves. Hadjar shuddered, but he didn’t move his hands away. There, somewhere in the depths of the plateau, he’d felt something strange. Something different. The threads of his energy had come across some kind of barrier. It wasn’t stone or snow, but was instead made up of raw energy. As if someone else’s power had resisted his, not letting it delve any deeper.

  Instinctively, Hadjar realized that, in order to get inside the tomb, he had to pass through this barrier. However, it couldn’t be done physically. Instead, he would have to use his energy because the barrier wa
s at a depth of almost a thousand yards. All the stocks of gunpowder that the Moon Army possessed wouldn’t be able to clear a path to it.

  How would he get through, then?

  “Where’s Serra when I need her?” Hadjar sighed.

  The girl would probably have laughed at his ‘mediocrity’ and immediately found a solution, but the desert witch was currently sitting by Nero’s bedside. Watching over his dying friend. He needed to hurry.

  Hadjar clenched his teeth and shook away these thoughts.

  He didn’t have time for all these mysteries and secrets.

  Gathering all the energy he had, he aimed it at a single point of the barrier.

  Stone could seem monolithic and unassailable, but if a thin rod was inserted into it and hit just right with a hammer, it could break it up into tiny pieces. Hadjar hoped that the same principle would work on the barrier. He pressed and molded, nourishing the curled thread that had been formed with his energy. It forced itself against the barrier, but nothing happened. The barrier didn’t even react to Hadjar’s power.

  It was too strong for his current stage of cultivation.

  Maybe if he’d been at the Transformation of the Spirit level, he would’ve been able to break through it.

  Damn it! Hadjar stepped back and, in frustration, he unsheathed Moon Beam and stuck it firmly into the ground at his feet.

  Full of fury, he imagined that his blade was going through not the snow and rock, but rather, an enemy. As soon as the sword touched the rock hidden under the fluffy, cold cover of snow, Hadjar felt himself falling.

  He flew down through vicious, cold, and dark surroundings. He drowned in them, not being able to either breathe or cling to anything to slow his fall.

  He tried to shout, but only oppressive silence escaped his throat. It wrapped him in the shackles of infinite stillness as Hadjar fell and fell. He hurtled through void after void. There was no sound, no space, and no time. Only a lingering gloom and the absolute horror of existence itself being frozen.