Street Cultivation 3

by Sarah Lin

  Katenka was right. Rick reached for his demonic bond and demanded every single lucrim it could possibly give him. In an instant, he was deeply in debt, having done everything he'd promised he'd never do with a demonic bond.

  But the next moment, Katenka materialized in the air overhead. H had a split second to look shocked before a spear of ice impaled him through the arm. He sagged toward the ground, already retaliating with embers, but a blizzard swept up from nothing, sweeping away his remaining smoke and assaulting him from all sides.

  Rick staggered away, bracing himself against the bent lamp post. Though Katenka had meant to buy him time to escape, he knew that wasn't an option. With his bike gone, he couldn't get far enough away. Even if the bus came, there was no guarantee H wouldn't attack him anyway. And if he fled now, they would only pursue him.

  No, what he needed to do was use this precious time to regain some advantage. The only thing he could possibly leverage was all his training in the Triune Golden Spheres: the lucrim in them might have been stolen from him, but H couldn't take the knowledge from his mind. There had to be something...

  His eyes fell on the cracked street bulb. A crude object compared to the perfect crystal spheres, but maybe that was enough. H had said the crystals were the best focus for the technique, which implied that worse focuses were possible. Rick picked up the cracked bulb and began doing his best to rework the technique in the broken structure.

  It would once have been impossible, but he'd spent a long time working on his theory and practicing construction with the demons. The Lucore came together surprisingly quickly, as if he was tracing old lines he could still faintly see. His new version wouldn't add any strength or work on its own, but it just might be enough to let him absorb aura.

  There was still a war of embers and ice, so Rick looked further. A sensory orb was next most important, but that would also be difficult. Defense might be easier. Rick looked to the concrete at the base of the lamp post, then smashed it apart with his hand. He grasped one of the chunks of concrete, forcing his lucrim into it.

  As expected, the defensive sphere was easiest, completed almost immediately. It wouldn't multiply his defenses, but it would spread out each hit a little more. The two objects began to rotate around him, but their orbit was unstable. He needed something for the third Lucore...

  Then a bell rang through the air and the blizzard simply vanished. When he turned to look, there was no sign of Katenka or any of her ice.

  "I didn't expect your little demon to be so much of a problem." H looked weary, but the blood running down his arm didn't prevent him from drawing another cigarette. "But now, nothing is getting through from the demon realm here, not even the tiniest of bonds. So now you're nothing but a thug."

  "You think I'm going to give up?" Rick knew it was a stupid question, he was just desperate to buy time to get his new Lucores fully working. H gave him a disappointed stare.

  "You think that this is going to be another fight perfectly calibrated to challenge you but make you feel good about yourself? I'm not some mercenary Alger hired to motivate you."

  "Did he hire the mercenary in Vietnam?" Despite his best efforts to remain calm, Rick growled out the question. His makeshift spheres trembled, but he didn't care, just watching his former mentor for any hint as to the answer.

  "I don't make those decisions, but I believe so. You were growing confident and distracted, so you needed something to m-"

  Rick let out a cry of rage and rushed forward.

  H scornfully shot an ember directly at him, but Rick felt only a cold murderous fury. He concentrated fully on his absorption and didn't slow down. Just before they collided, the ember shivered and was drawn into the street lamp. H had a moment to look shocked and then Rick was pummeling him across the face and shoulders.

  But though he landed several good hits, the next was blocked, and then H started hitting back. His former mentor might not be a defensive master, but he had a massive portfolio capable of taking a beating. And now that Rick didn't have a sensory Lucore, he couldn't keep up as they fought.

  In that case, he only had one choice. Rick let one of the blows through, wincing as it cracked into his side... and then hammered H in the throat.

  Choking and staggering back, H threw up a wall of embers to defend himself, but Rick wasn't intending to attack. He needed the moment to catch up himself.

  The chunk of concrete and broken lamp bulb still floated above his head. They were laughable compared to the priceless crystal spheres, yet they'd worked. He knew that he couldn't absorb very many embers, and the concrete already had a few cracks through it, but having them vastly improved his ability to fight. His lucrima soul was almost flowing normally again around the absence, if only he had a third Lucore to balance the others...

  Except he wasn't going to get one. H straightened up, drawing a cigarette and lighting it with one finger. As the end reflected in his burning eyes, there was no question of it being posturing.

  "You think you can win with an imitation of what I taught you? That's an insult." Despite his words, H was moving more slowly from all his injuries. Where once he would have attacked immediately, now he needed time to prepare his technique.

  But then aura erupted from him and Rick felt a growing sense of horror. Embers began rising into the air, smaller and sharper than the others. Dozens of them, then hundreds. They formed a cloud, then suddenly one of them zipped forward.

  Rick ducked aside, but a second ember hit his chest the next moment. Instead of clinging and burning, it bit straight through his shirt and his skin, sending a line of blood sailing into the air. Though Rick used a Bunyan's Step to get away from the massive rush of shards, he was free for only a moment before the cloud turned on him.

  Bit by bit, he was cut apart. His defensive core could prevent the ember shards from burning holes straight through his body or disemboweling him, but each one tore a bloody line across his body. By the time Rick staggered to a halt, he was bleeding from countless wounds, his blood staining the asphalt even darker black.

  There were shards all around him now, preparing to sweep in and slice him apart from all sides. Rick desperately sought a solution, surging everything he had, but he knew that he couldn't survive all the ember shards stabbing into him at once.

  Then one of them plunged toward the back of his neck and he felt it. Rick didn't think, he just dodged. More were already flying at him, but he felt the arc of every one.

  As H hesitated for just a moment in surprise, Rick struck. He crossed the distance between them instantly with no time for a blow, he just smashed the crown of his head directly into his opponent's face. H hurtled backward and all the embers winked out.

  Though Rick knew that he should have taken advantage, he was too wounded and dizzy to keep moving. He could feel a sensory Lucore within him, but where the hell had it come from? There shouldn't have been any focus...

  Over his head, he saw a third sphere rotating with the others, formed from his own blood. It glistened darkly in the light as the Dark Blood Kettle surged inside him.

  "A shadow version of the spheres." H had yet to stand, but his face was hard. Somehow he hadn't lost the cigarette, holding it from his lips as he slowly rose and spoke. "I see what Alger saw in you, but it doesn't matter. You need to die."

  The cigarette suddenly burned away, becoming ash in an instant. H breathed in all of it, then exhaled hell itself.

  Rick threw himself directly up with a Bunyan's Step and that instinct was all that saved him. While he hung suspended in the air, he saw a terrible mass of smoke and flame roiling over the highway. Had that struck him...

  But it had to be almost over. Though Rick was injured and exhausted, he knew that his opponent was flagging as well. Multiple blows had rattled H and using such lucrim-intensive techniques must be draining his reserves. Rick managed to squeeze out one final Bunyan's Step, taking him to the road behind H instead of into the maelstrom of embers.

  Instantly another
one hit him in the chest and Rick realized his mistake. H was on his feet, bracing his injured arm but still calm. He'd tracked Rick perfectly and now sent ember after ember toward him.

  The second one Rick managed to absorb, but with the third, he could feel his sphere heating up. Even his old sphere couldn't keep absorbing such potent aura attacks, and the street lamp was much weaker. He heard it crack and staggered back a step, but he was too weak to fully dodge. Besides, H could just keep targeting him without needing to move a step.

  Was this all he was? A brute using city trash to imitate the skills of his betters? As he heard another crack, he almost believed it.

  But no. The blood, trash, and concrete rotating above his head might represent who he was, but he refused to believe that was a limitation. Rick drew the Dark Blood Kettle higher and thrust it into the absorption Lucore - not to imitate the old skill, but to create something new.

  All the embers began spilling from the broken light, tumbling down over his body... but they didn't burn.

  Each of the embers was drawn into his lucrima soul, burning in a shell around him that flexed like a second skin. It happened almost automatically, more instinct than technique, but they kept flowing. H growled and began hurling more embers at him. As the heat rose, Rick cried out in pain and threw everything he had into absorbing the assault.

  When the next ember struck, it hit a wall of fire and was absorbed. Rick was surrounded in a massive suit of armor formed of burning embers, barely holding it together, barely able to see the world around him. But he endured, and he could see H staring at him in shock.

  Rick stepped forward and drove the entire fist filled with embers down on his former mentor.

  Then everything faded and Rick dropped onto the ground. His opponent lay unmoving, lucrima soul burned to ashes, possibly beyond repair. Rick was completely exhausted, far beyond his limits, having tapped everything he had. He was alive, but he was so drained that all his injuries were still bleeding freely.

  What next? At first Rick just sat there, too numb to answer his own question. But eventually, he managed to haul himself back to his feet and think again.

  H was still alive, which meant he wasn't a murderer. Thinking about what had been done to Melissa, he wanted to be. Yet he couldn't help but realize that the authorities might be on their way, and he couldn't know how they would react.

  As Rick thought about it, he gathered up the fragments of the Triune Golden Spheres. They remained dead, and he doubted that he would ever be able to access the lucrim within them again. Rick shoved the fragments into his pockets and stared down at H's body.

  No, killing him wouldn't be a victory. It wouldn't take away Melissa's torment and it wouldn't strike at Alger. He needed to contact the authorities and reveal whatever he could. His phone had been destroyed, but he thought there had been an archaic pay phone at the bus stop. If he could limp his way there, he might be able to place a call, or at least sit until Melissa arrived.

  For a few limping steps down the highway, Rick felt a bit of relief. Then he saw a man in a black suit standing in the center of the road, his hands laced over his cane. Alger was smiling.

  Chapter 51: The Last Match

  "I have never been so simultaneously proud of and disappointed in one person." Alger walked forward calmly, his cane tapping against the road, his face fixed in that awful smile. "You've essentially ruined poor Horatio, after he served me well for so long. Pity."

  Alger flicked a finger and Rick started to raise his fists, but the attack wasn't aimed at him. A roar of aura surrounded H's body, tearing him apart in an instant and leaving only a bloody splatter. Rick took a shuddering breath and lowered his hands.

  "But all of that remarkable growth is matched by equally remarkable unwillingness to take a rational path to power. Always getting in my way, working with my rivals, being a nuisance. I'd have killed you already if you weren't so much fun."

  "What do you want?" The question came out ragged, but Rick didn't care if he was facing down death. He just wanted answers.

  "I told you exactly that from the beginning!" Alger spread his arms wide and his grin even wider. "I want to see a warrior's spirit in this dying age! Clashing rivals, perilous training, desperate last second gambits! I want the flames of your ambition to burn this world down to ashes!"

  All Rick could do was stare as he realized that Alger's strange clothing had nothing to do with the madness seething within him.

  "I'm really quite irate, you know. Not only did you kill H, you've nearly ruined Raggest. That boy was an almost perfect find... utterly naive and devoted to nothing but strength, happy to go from step to step without ever stopping to think about why. In a way, he was one of my most perfect toys, shaped exactly to my specifications."

  "Using him that way is just cruel. Let him go."

  "But you... you are a toy of a different sort." Alger went on as if Rick hadn't even spoken. "A toy that I discarded and assumed would break. At every turn, you try to defy me, and yet you grow stronger. It makes it so much fun to watch your growth."

  "I want nothing to do with your plans." Though Rick doubted that he could get through to Alger, he refused to back down and listen to the insane manifesto. "Now that I've seen how you work, you won't be able to manipulate me any more."

  "Don't you understand? Everything is part of my plan. If you turn away from the paths of power, you will become yet another disappointment in a long line of forgotten disappointments. If you continue fighting me, you will either die or become ever more interesting."

  "And if I get strong enough to kill you?"

  Alger's eyes lit up and he leaned forward, his voice coming in an eager whisper. "Do it."

  The sight of his joy at the thought forced Rick to look away. He was fairly sure that Alger wouldn't kill him now, but he was coming to realize that there were much worse things than death. Yet he was utterly exhausted, rendering any attempt to flee useless.

  "But I suppose I cannot allow this to go unanswered." Alger became slightly less manic, staring down his nose at Rick. "All those seals you've earned... yes, they would be a bit annoying. I think I'll take them away. Before you went against me and ruined the tournament, you should have thought about the fact that your entire card is vulnerable. Once you're dishonorably disqualified from the Showdown, none of those seals have any meaning at all."

  "Can you disqualify someone who's already retired?" Rick asked. Alger's eyes immediately narrowed, and for a moment Rick thought he would attack, but then the madman smiled.

  "Clever lad. You were still a Showdown member when the tournament was officially organized, so I can only assume..."

  "Someone else has my card and all the documents needed to retire me. It's already over, unless you can go up against all the world powers alone."

  "Oh, there would be no point in that." Alger tapped his cane on the street thoughtfully. "But I can't leave you to continue meddling, because if you had your way, the world would be less fun. You've done so well with torment, let me see if you won't grow to meet a new challenge..."

  From the corner of his eyes, Rick saw the soft glow of several lanterns. He didn't want to turn to look, but it was already too late, Alger had noticed. There were three floating lantern vessels moving toward them from the direction of the mansion, Qing Shan at the front with her aura blazing. Rick breathed a sigh of relief.

  The sky descended and crushed everyone against the ground.

  Rick's face was pressed against the asphalt and he struggled just to breathe. He could feel Alger's raw power hitting him like a waterfall, but it didn't seem to pour from Alger, it struck down from the heavens themselves. When he managed to turn his head to the side, he saw that all the lanterns had been grounded, warriors and immortals just as pinned as he was, his hope extinguished.

  Just what was this incredible force? It was lucrim, but lucrim that was absolutely nothing like anything he'd felt before. Rick had fought warriors from many countries, wild beasts, and demoni
c techniques, yet all of them felt like first cousins compared to the alien lucrim driving him to the ground.

  "Oh, now this is becoming tedious." Alger sighed and tapped his fingers along the top of his cane, as if casually considering whether or not to kill everyone. "The pity of it all is, I still need other players for all these games. This does make it rather more difficult to punish you."

  Though Rick couldn't possibly fight the power that was bearing down on him, he realized that his lucrim portfolio was reacting automatically. His battered defensive core struggled to let him rise against it. Deeper than that, the Dark Blood Kettle was attempting to absorb the alien lucrim. It would never master it, but he was adapting, one small step at a time.

  "How vexing... but I suppose you've always been outside the plan. Yes, perhaps it's better this way. I'll let you persist in following a path I think is a mistake and perhaps it will become something interesting. After all, you'll either come to nothing and disappoint me, or you'll defy me and make me proud."

  Rick took a deep breath and managed to rise to one knee. The force overhead still felt overwhelming, but his soul could recognize it as a lucrim flow. An unimaginably powerful one, yet he struggled to get his other foot under him, then strained to his feet. Standing was all he could do, but he was able to straighten and look Alger in the eye.

  "Marvelous!" Alger clapped cheerfully. "At the moment, you are certainly making me proud, so perh-"

  "I don't want to make you proud or excited or disappointed," Rick said, staring Alger in the eye. "I want to make you worried."

  For the first time, Rick saw the strange man hesitate, a moment of uncertainty crossing his face. Then he tapped his cane on the ground and he was gone, along with all of his impossible lucrim.

  The air that remained felt thin, leaving Rick gasping for breath. Within him, he could feel the Dark Blood Kettle subside, overwhelmed by its attempt to adapt to such a force. He had absolutely nothing left, but he thought it was finally over.