On their way out, Yama and Evil Dave had a pleasant discussion with the gatekeeper. Apparently, she grew the most wonderful petunias. It wasn’t enough to break the ice between them, but on the whole, Yama upgraded their relationship in his book from “frosty as the queen of winter” to “a cold snap just when it was getting warmer.”
They were outside now. Yama sighed as he looked toward his distant home office. It would take him a while to get back, since his permission to teleport had expired. Still, he had time to spare. His emergency had been dealt with. The damage he’d dealt to space-time by teleporting here in the first place could be dealt with at his leisure.
“So…” Yama said to Evil Dave as he walked. “Fancy playing a board game? Like the good old days?”
“Sure,” Evil Dave said. “Like the good old days.”
They left, speaking about a past that Yama was sure didn’t exist, wondering about things that couldn’t possibly have happened. It was relaxing, really. As they walked, the fear in Yama’s heart faded to mild concern, and he was sure that, with time, it would fade away to nothing.
So involved in his conversation he was that he didn’t notice the straggler from Judah’s group walking out of the building. She’d gone to the bathroom during their encounter with Yama and was running in a frenzied hurry to catch their group as they exited the complex. And in her arms, tucked away beneath the many papers she would need to push before dawn, she carried something. A thin white file folder containing pages of seemingly irrelevant information.
It would be quite some time before she got to it.
Chapter 1: Mission
Cha Ming knew his defeat was all but certain the moment he entered the arena. His opponent stood two feet taller than him, and he held a sharp spear to Cha Ming’s plain staff. All doors leading out of the chamber were sealed, and he couldn’t use tools or talismans against his demonic opponent. Still, he looked his doom in the eyes. He wasn’t willing to accept a loss without a struggle.
“Ready to hurt, little human?” the demon asked as they circled each other and made probing attacks. His spear wasn’t blunted, and he was larger and physically stronger. He also had sharp teeth and sharp claws, despite his humanoid frame. He wore no armor, but he needed no armor. His scales were more than enough protection.
“You wish,” Cha Ming said.
The demon laughed and acted first. He launched a golden spear, and his movements sped up as he activated his signature rapid footwork technique. Cha Ming didn’t so much block the spear as coil his staff around the blow, deflecting its trajectory ever so slightly before pushing off and waving the Clear Sky Staff, now in brush form. He swept in a wide arc, and inky characters appeared midair.
“This again?” the demon said. “It never works.”
“We won’t know unless I keep trying,” Cha Ming replied. “Are you ready?”
“I was ready before you were born,” the demon said.
Cha Ming grinned. He began painting with inky strokes, imbuing the concept of inky rain into every rune before releasing them into the air. He didn’t have much time to do so, however, as the burly demon came barreling toward him. This time, he swept horizontally with his spear, forcing Cha Ming to make a choice: jump up or dodge.
He chose to jump, fully aware that this made him more vulnerable. It was difficult to maneuver without being able to push off from the ground. His opponent whipped his spear around diagonally to take advantage of his predicament. Cha Ming had anticipated this. He couldn’t maneuver in midair, but what if he had a platform?
Cha Ming’s tricolored domain shimmered, and he imbued the Concept of Sacred Sand into the air above his head. He pushed off it mid-flip and flew toward the surprised demon. As he avoided the demon’s spear, he used the Concept of Radiant Masterpiece to summon five golden lances. They pierced at the man, who was forced to dodge or get eviscerated.
“You’ve improved your summoning speed for Radiant Golden Glaives, Cha Ming,” the demon commented.
“And you realized it just in time, Shneraz,” Cha Ming replied. They landed on opposite ends of the sparring circle. Though they’d known each other for a while now, it was only recently that they’d started calling each other by their actual names instead of Dao names. Cha Ming’s own Dao name was Clear Sky, and Shneraz’s was Golden Oblivion. It was a fitting name for such a powerful demon.
Cha Ming swept out with the Clear Sky Brush and painted another layer of black runes. “Should we continue, or will you be giving up?”
“I’m just getting started,” Shneraz said with a grin. They began an intricate dance of staff and spear. Shneraz wasn’t a brutish fighter like most would believe, but a technical one. He worked to build slow advantages. His spearwork was flawless, and when Cha Ming blocked, it struck like a boulder. Fighting against a spear was both more difficult and simpler than sparring against a staff. Spear users tended to rely on the pointy end a little too much.
“Stop daydreaming,” the demon snapped. “I’d hate to kill you by accident.”
“Do your worst,” Cha Ming said.
Shneraz nodded and obliged. “Behold—the Golden Dragon’s Intricate Breastplate!” The air shimmered. The demon’s dominion, which fully encompassed their large room, did not interact with Cha Ming’s in any way. Dominions weren’t like domains in that they didn’t bother with neutral heaven-and-earth energy, but instead captured the natural demonic energy that hung in the air. In Shneraz’s case, he used gold energy. Such things were more plentiful than most natural energy in human cities. He was stronger here than out in the wilderness.
The change was instantaneous. Golden armor appeared around Shneraz, and it fit him like a glove. With its appearance, his speed increased a step, as did his explosive power. Shneraz wasn’t a tricky fighter—he knew he was good with his body and spear and therefore focused on simple, precise movements. It might not be enough for most demons, but Shneraz wasn’t just any demon. He was a Golden Dragon. He had strength and speed in spades.
Cha Ming cursed as he abandoned the runic motif he’d been painting, barely evading a blade to his chest in the process. It was a tricky technique he was trying to paint, and his opponent knew it. He tried to block the dragon’s spear, but Shneraz was fast. Too fast. It took a spear to the shoulder for Cha Ming to wise up to the very real threat he posed.
Bone cracked. Flesh exploded. It regenerated almost instantly, but the blow depleted a good twenty percent of Cha Ming’s vitality stores. And knowing that more was coming, he infused the Concept of Sacred Sand into one of his newest techniques: Temple Sand Clone. Qi and domain energy accumulated and formed a figure that kicked at the dragon. Another three materialized and attacked him with staves. Individually, these clones were an annoyance. But when Cha Ming joined the fray, they were a useful distraction. He mixed in his staff strikes, and all the while, he continued painting.
“You won’t be able to finish your technique if you keep this up,” Shneraz said. His spear cut wildly, slicing off arms and legs of sand that recovered almost instantly. “You’re running out of qi.”
“And you’re running out of time,” Cha Ming said.
“I thought I’d give you a head start,” Shneraz replied with a grin. Then Cha Ming felt it—a sense of crisis. He and his sand clones scattered just in time to avoid a blast of sound from the demon’s mouth. He might be in his human form, but he was still a dragon.
The blast caught two of Cha Ming’s clones. They turned to glass, and their qi and domain energy dissipated before Cha Ming could pull it back. He cursed, but, noticing Shneraz’s temporary fatigue, he painted the sixth runic motif, which joined the other five, encircling the dragon.
“You’ve improved,” Shneraz said. “Looks like I’ll need to get serious.” He began to glow brightly.
Cha Ming barely saw what came next. There was a blur, and a spear cleaved through his arm. It fell to the ground, useless. Cha Ming didn’t have time to reattach it, so he grew a new one, sacrificing a bit of v
itality to buy enough time to summon a barrier of sand and block a blow from a spear haft. He summoned nine golden glaives in a pike formation to block a strike from above. They broke the dragon’s cavalry-like charge.
The dragon recovered quickly, so begrudgingly, Cha Ming activated Clockwork Boots of the Golden Dragon. It was a divine ability granted to him by the Spirit of the Clockwork Ancestor. Cha Ming’s golden boots glowed with vibrant energy. Summoning them didn’t require much, and they sped up his movement speed passively. Aside from this useful passive ability, however, they also had an active one. The moment he used it, painfully expensive metals in his bones began to burn. His surroundings slowed. Or rather, his perception of time sped up. Along with the improved speed granted to him by the boots, he was able to dodge the next strike.
Not enough, Cha Ming thought. He used the metal portion of his mixed qi and domain to summon dozens of tiny obstacles using a domain-type technique called Clockwork Nightmare. Gears and blades appeared, and while the damage each of them could inflict was limited, they restricted Shneraz’s movements as Cha Ming’s sand clones boxed him in.
“Let’s see if you can finish it before those toys of yours run out,” Shneraz scoffed. He smashed a sand clone, but it was immediately replaced by another that attacked from above. The maze of gears moved, deflecting a blow while one of them cut into Shneraz’s thigh.
Cha Ming painted like his life depended on it. In theory, he was in no danger, but it was difficult to be certain during a high-intensity sparring bout. He completed the next three runic motifs by the time Shneraz broke through his containment and forcefully broke his Clockwork Nightmare and Temple Sand Clones. Cha Ming’s qi reeled when he was hit by the backlash, and his domain wavered. He choked back a mouthful of blood but stood firm.
Just a little more, Cha Ming thought. He painted a tenth motif, and Shneraz came charging. He urged more power into his boots, and he was able to evade just in time to paint the eleventh and twelfth ones. With the appearance of the final splash of ink, the runes glowed, and as they did, Shneraz’s expression grew solemn. He stopped shining, deactivated his boosting technique, and prepared to use something with a bit more power. Will he use Sky-Piercing Spear? Will he defend with Golden Dragon’s Illustrious Shield? It was tough to tell since demonic energy wasn’t as predictable or as readable as qi. He could only hope his own technique was enough.
Cha Ming’s technique, Ink-Splattered Cage, activated. The ink motifs he’d painted summoned a giant claw from above and became trapping bars on the floor and at Shneraz’s sides. The Golden Dragon grinned as he faced Cha Ming’s most powerful attack. He was a late-initiation demon, and a Kingfisher Guardsman to boot. That meant he could fight above his level. The fact that Cha Ming could fight him as a middle-rune-carving and initial-blood-awakening cultivator and not instantly lose was already quite impressive. The half-step boost from his angelic endowment helped, of course, as well as his thrice-fused domain aligned to earth, gold, and water. He hoped they would be enough.
Turned out, Shneraz didn’t summon the spear or the shield as he had before. This time, he summoned something Cha Ming had never seen—his manifestation. It was the phantom image of a resplendent golden dragon, remarkably similar to the one he’d seen in the Golden Dragon’s Music Box on the demiplane he and Daoist Eternal Song’s group of Kingfisher Guardsmen had entered. Though the manifestation wasn’t a perfect imitation, it possessed many fine details like intricate scales and shifting pieces. It blasted wondrous sounds at the inky claw that struggled to move closer. It wasn’t long before the sounds wore away at the Ink-Splattered Cage. It faltered and broke, staining the ground with black ink. Cha Ming’s ploy had failed.
Fortunately, Cha Ming hadn’t been relying solely on that technique. The moment it was about to break, he canceled it pre-emptively to shield himself from the backlash. The Concept of Sacred Sand whirled around him as he heaved his staff in pillar form and smashed sideways at Shneraz’s exposed flank.
Searing Sands of the Sacred Desert! The phantom of a serpent appeared and met the manifestation head on. It smashed down with its tail, which the dragon caught in its claws. The two giants began a brutal battle while the two lesser mortals, Cha Ming and Shneraz, stood paralyzed in place.
The serpent bit and constricted while the dragon bit and scratched. Cha Ming pitted his will against the dragon’s, and the two mythical demons waged an all-out war. Seconds passed as they struggled, but ultimately Cha Ming was at a power and elemental disadvantage. Soon, the serpent ran out of energy. It collapsed into a pile of sand, which disappeared as soon as it hit the ground.
“Ha!” Shneraz said as he banished his manifestation. “Do you accept defeat?”
“How could I not?” Cha Ming said helplessly. “I used up all my qi to delay you and set up my technique, but in the end, you just overpowered it.”
The dragon shrugged. “You didn’t use your limit-breaking technique.”
“You didn’t use yours,” Cha Ming countered.
“As one marked by the ancestor, you should know that such a thing would be very costly, and not worth using in a sparring match,” Shneraz said.
“I don’t really like injuring my soul, so I believe we chose wisely,” Cha Ming said.
“Then I’ll accept this victory,” Shneraz replied.
Cha Ming tossed him a blue jade. It contained ten Kingfisher Guard merit points—not a large amount, but it kept them both honest. What better way to motivate themselves while sparring?
“Same time next week?” he asked.
“If you’re not on a mission,” Cha Ming said. They bowed to each other, as was courteous, then proceeded to the sealed doors. As they walked out, two more Kingfisher Guardsmen entered. There was a short lineup of them waiting to fight private battles to hone their skills. Both Cha Ming and Shneraz were silver members, and they’d sparred several times over the past few weeks. Such was the way of the Kingfisher Guard. There weren’t many of them, but all of them were crazy strong. They fought tooth and nail for the slightest improvement.
You could have probably taken him with Thirty-Six Heavenly Transformations, Sun Wukong commented from inside the Clear Sky World. Along with Words of Creation, your five-element talismans, and Words of Destruction.
Yes, but it’s like I said, I don’t much like injuring my soul, Cha Ming replied. It can take me days to recover depending how long I use them.
Sun Wukong pouted. You didn’t even use your best concepts.
I have a target on my back, so it’s best to keep a few secrets, Cha Ming replied. Most people thought he only had three main concepts that he used in conjunction with his thrice-fused domain. He also had a dozen auxiliary concepts to draw from and strengthen it. In truth, however, he’d long since fused the Concepts of Inky Rain, Sacred Sand, and Radiant Masterpiece into three new two-element concepts. Two were mostly defensive, and one was most definitely offensive. They would have been useful in their battle.
Your footwork is sloppy, another voice said as Cha Ming exited the connecting bridge between the Guard’s four towers and entered the mission house. It was the Spirit of the Clockwork Ancestor.
Clockwork Boots of the Golden Dragon is both difficult to practice and consumes way too much expensive metal, Cha Ming replied. The spirit sniffed from her residence in the golden music box in the Clear Sky World.
You burn through so much metal because you’re sloppy, the Clockwork Ancestor said. If you only used it when you needed to move fast, and ended the technique when you didn’t need to, you wouldn’t have any problems. Also, your bones are running low on metal. You would be wise to refill them.
As soon as I get a chance, Cha Ming said. Having two spirits residing in his soul-bound artifact might be helpful, but it was mentally exhausting. Speaking of which, we finally got him to show his manifestation. Is he the one?
No, said the Clockwork Ancestor without any hesitation.
Are you sure? Cha Ming said. He felt at his shoulder, which
still stung from their battle. Though his flesh had regenerated, at their level, healing wasn’t as easy as re-forming your body. Attacks left by powerful practitioners left Dao scars, wounds left by concepts, laws, and divine power. They weren’t simple to heal. Some wounds could take years or even centuries to go away, even for a body cultivator.
Yes, I am sure, the dragon spirit replied in an irritated tone. He has skill, that much I know. His bloodline is strong. He even has a decent will.
But…
But his manifestation doesn’t cut it, and while his will is strong, it isn’t overpowering, the dragon spirit continued. He isn’t someone I can entrust with the future of an entire branch of descendants.
Just a branch? Cha Ming asked. The dragon usually got irritated whenever he asked too many questions. Over the past six months, however, he’d learned how to extract information from her. Flattery did wonders with dragons. I thought that a mighty clan like the dragon clan would have very few descendants.
Of course, the Clockwork Ancestor replied smugly. You didn’t think I’d put all my eggs in one planar basket, did you? There are more, but I’d still feel bad if I didn’t help them. They’re just babes trying to survive, and there are so many threats trying to overcome them.
Relief flooded Cha Ming when he realized failure would no longer lead to extinction of an entire species. I’ll naturally do my best to aid them, Cha Ming said. I do owe you.
As much as Cha Ming would like to get rid of the music box and the dragon spirit, they were joined by karma. And not just in a metaphysical sense. The dragon had re-formed his bones and given him a divine ability. To get rid of her forcefully, he would need to somehow expel the gold dragon’s energy from his bones and then pit his will against a demon emperor’s phantom spirit.
Crown of the Starry Sky: Book 11 of Painting the Mists Page 3