Violet Heart

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by Patrick Laplante


  Was I born to lose? Ling Dong suddenly thought. Is this destiny? Is there nothing I can do to stop him? These doubts surfaced in his mind, and the moment they did, his grasp on what little power he had weakened. The mountain’s rejection grew stronger as it favored his opponent. Was I a fool to fight against a demon on his mountain?

  Don’t let him assert his authority! A voice rang in his mind.

  It was Darkwing’s voice.

  You really are worse than a baby. You know nothing. This isn’t a fight to the death, but a struggle for power. Unless you assert your authority, he’ll assert his over you.

  And how am I supposed to do that? Ling Dong shot back, flustered. His legs were shaking, and his knees were slowly bending. His opponent’s power was forcing him to kneel, and he knew that the moment he did, the fight would be over.

  Hell if I know, Darkwing said. This isn’t something you can think your way through. My advice? Forget everything you think you know. Only a demon can win a sacred duel. Being a human will only hinder you.

  Being a human will only hinder me… Ling Dong thought. Although he’d been fighting on instinct, this instinct was still a manifestation of his knowledge. He was fighting with his sword and his runic arts. Yet his opponent wasn’t using anything. Only his presence. If things continued like this, he would lose.

  Ling Dong glanced at the rapidly disintegrating runic circle he’d drawn previously. He’d been struggling to maintain it ever since the Bloodrune King began projecting his kingly might, almost as though it was his weakest link. Much of the demonic energy he was controlling was being spent on supplementing this runic circle.

  But what can it do for me? Ling Dong realized. Isn’t it only hindering me? He decisively cast it away. The fledgling formation vanished, but as it did, he noticed his Demon-Subduing Intent converging.

  Then he began thinking of various ways to defeat his opponent. He thought of talismans, of traps and formations. He thought of techniques and a variety of other means at his disposal. Then, after a bit more thought, he grasped his bag of holding and threw it back toward Darkwing, who caught it. His aura converged once again. Now instead of spanning one hundred feet, it was concentrated within ten feet of him, like a thick violet fog in the morning sun.

  The Bloodrune King, seeing Ling Dong’s sudden improvement, moved toward him, his clawed paws forming a meaty fist. Ling Dong coughed up blood as he raised his sword to block it. A large crack appeared in the blade, but he managed to stand his ground.

  Humans are born weak, the Bloodrune King said. You can’t fight without your sword. You can’t fight without your tricks. You don’t face us with honor, preferring to fight us in groups, as is your custom. You rely on anything but yourself, and that, Demon-Subduing King, is the unbreachable distance between man and demon.

  Another fist came his way, forcing Ling Dong to block it once again. Another crack appeared on his blade, forcing him to protect it yet again, even as the crack spread throughout the two feet of blade closest to the hilt. The demonic wolverine didn’t retract his fist, but rather, pressed forward with it. Ling Dong struggled against his opponent’s superior strength, but doing so was like trying to stop the sun from rising, the river from flowing. Panicking, he summoned what little demonic energy he could to help him. Unfortunately, the energy seemed incompatible with his blade. It rejected its unnatural aid in their sacred battle.

  Should I stake it all on my Demon-Subduing Intent? Ling Dong pondered. He was a swordsman, after all, and without his sword, he was nothing. But by using his sword, he was losing. What have I got to lose? He thought, gritting his teeth. He lifted a foot off the ground and kicked against the fist. Then, pushing it back slightly, he flung his blade toward Darkwing, who caught it and shoved it into the mountain’s rocky ground. The cracked blade flickered lightly as Ling Dong’s incandescent force left it and focused on the current battle.

  Ling Dong’s Demon-Subduing Intent receded once more. A three-foot halo now surrounded Ling Dong. In this moment, he felt a qualitative change in the mysterious, intangible force. Though its field was much smaller, he felt his mastery over the mountain had reached a threshold. It greatly exceeded what he was capable of before, to the point that he could now fight against his opponent’s suppression. He used this newly gathered power to grasp the Bloodrune King’s large fist. He, a man, was now engaged in a contest of strength against a full-fledged demon.

  Still, at this rate, he would lose. Though the violet aura had given him control over the mountain, it was nothing like the glowing crown atop his opponent’s head. He sensed that if his opponent decided to end this fight right now, he could do so without lifting a paw. This wasn’t a duel, after all, but a lesson.

  What did I do wrong? He wondered. I cast away my human tools, and I’m using nothing but the power of the mountain to fight. Should I strip my clothes and revert to my most natural state? Is that what I’m missing?

  Hundreds of thoughts ran through his mind, each one seeming sillier than the last. His clothes were meaningless, and eating raw meat, for example, would do little to prove his bestial nature. What makes a demon a demon? He thought. What makes a king a king?

  A king without his crown was still a king. And though a kingdom was essential, he could never rule it if he himself was lacking. And then, it struck him. As much as he thought he was relying on himself, he was still relying on the mountain. It was like a king relying on his birthright for authority instead of his own abilities.

  Is that what he’s trying to teach me?

  Ling Dong was relying on the demonic energy to stave off the fist. Without that energy, the fist would send him flying into the Sovereign’s spire. Even if he survived the impact, it would take him weeks to recover. In the heat of the moment, Ling Dong finally realized how truly risky it was to rely only on himself. And while it was risky, it was something he could control. His life and death would be decided by his own actions and power and not the will of the mountain. It was something small, but it was something that couldn’t be taken away. The only thing that couldn’t be taken away.

  If I die, Ling Dong said to Darkwing as he struggled, forget about going back to the plateau. You don’t need humans in your life. They’re just a crutch, something that makes life easier.

  What are you saying? Darkwing said worriedly. I like the plateau. That’s why I want to go back. Life with Lan Yin and you was the happiest time in my life.

  But were you free? Ling Dong asked through gritted teeth.

  Isn’t everyone? Darkwing answered. Needing to obey rules is part of living. Just because you have constraints and hierarchy, that doesn’t mean you’re not free. Everything depends on your outlook. I was free then, and I’m still free now. I was happy then, and I’m happy now. Even if I die today, I’d die happy and free.

  Even if I die today, I’d die happy and free… Ling Dong thought. What a carefree way to live. He suddenly wished that, for once in his life, he shared this feeling. It was a feeling he could only taste if he let go of his grip on the power of the mountain that kept him alive.

  Ling Dong took a deep breath, and the violet aura converged once more. He stopped struggling for the mountain’s alien power and left it to the Bloodrune King. He fought against the demon’s fist with all his might, but as the aura converged, his strength waned. His feet moved back as he slowly accelerated toward the spire. As the last of the mountain’s strength left him, and the Demon-Subduing Intent completely receded, the shove became a fierce push that sent him tumbling back toward the spire.

  It was an exhilarating feeling, rushing to one’s death. He was free from any encumbrance, free from any delusions of grandeur. At the same time, he realized that letting go of the mountain had given him clarity. He felt incomparable control over himself, a freedom he’d never felt before.

  And to his surprise, something was changing around him. The violet Demon-Subduing Intent hadn’t completely receded. Instead, it had accumulated over his head at a single point. And when
the point reached its minimum, Ling Dong felt a pulse, an energy and authority unlike any other.

  The crowd of demons gasped as a crown appeared above his head, and with its appearance, that sense of freedom remained. He felt closer to the mountain than he ever had. On instinct, he drew on its power, and it rushed into his body like citizens rising up in defense of their beloved ruler. The power strengthened it to the extreme. He jumped in the air and landed feet first on the spire. Then he sprung back toward the wolverine and unleashed his own fist. Surprised, the wolverine struck back with his second fist.

  The human and the demon collided, but this time, there was no winner and no loser in the exchange. Following their clash, the human and the demon evaluated each other, their respective crowns automatically wrestling for the mountain’s authority. Ling Dong no longer felt as though he was oppressed by a superior. It felt like he was conversing with an equal. No, that wasn’t the case. His ranking was a little higher. The area occupied by the presence of their crowns spoke volumes.

  “Let’s try this again,” Ling Dong said. He stamped his foot, and the earth shattered. Dozens of spikes headed toward the wolverine, who flitted between them at a speed much faster than he’d shown before. Ling Dong pushed off mounds of earth and summoned a sea of fire. The demonic flames burned toward the wolverine, who twirled and blew them away with an intense gale.

  Seeing that the flames would be ineffective, Ling Dong kicked off a chunk of earth into the skies above. He held up his arms, and the skies darkened. Huge blades of ice appeared above him, creating a storm of swords that funneled down toward the wide-eyed wolverine.

  Shocked at the display of power, the wolverine summoned a large cloud of blood. It was larger than the one he’d summoned before, and a host of bloody claws rose up to fight against the incoming blades. They shattered as they clashed, creating a symphony of blood and snow. The Bloodrune King’s eyes narrowed as he marveled at the spectacle. He quickly stepped back, barely avoided a large metallic fist. It was attached to a small body. Ling Dong’s body.

  Though the fist missed, Ling Dong gathered even more demonic energy into a large golden sword. The sword formed in a fraction of a second and plunged toward the Bloodrune King’s heart. The demon tried to move, only to discover that large roots had appeared beneath him and were restricting his legs. Seeing that retreat wasn’t an option, he recalled his bloody clouds and re-formed them into a single bloody rune. It resisted for a moment before shattering under the sword’s onslaught. The unstoppable blade continued toward him, heading in for the kill. He closed his eyes and awaited his fate.

  The blade didn’t draw blood. Instead, it shattered on impact. As soon as it dissipated, the energy on the mountain returned to normal. The violet demonic energy surrounding Ling Dong began to disappear, but before it did, everyone could see the crown had grown a little bigger, and the pressure he exuded was much greater than before.

  The crowd erupted in cheers. Howls, roars, and caws expressed their appreciation at the display of raw kingly might. Fights like these were why they lived, and it was why the strong were revered. Though Ling Dong was exhausted and covered in bleeding wounds, he lifted his arm and declared victory. From this moment forth, he wasn’t just a human with strange eyes.

  He was a demon through and through.

  Chapter 28

  “Right this way, Brother Jin,” Hei Chen said, motioning for Jin Huang to enter a black carriage.

  Jin Huang stepped inside, and the horseless carriage moved forward at a steady pace. The walls were black and isolated against incandescent force. Combined with the absence of windows, it was impossible to tell where they were going or where they were headed.

  “This boss of yours is awfully secretive,” Jin Huang said after an incense time had passed.

  “A necessary precaution in this field of business,” Hei Chen replied.

  “Which is?” Jin Huang asked.

  “Why, everything, of course,” Hei Chen said. “I wouldn’t say this much to others, but you and I, we’re brothers. To tell you the truth, our master is quite dissatisfied with the current state of affairs in the city. Over the years, he’s picked many fights with the Lion Financial Group, the city lord, you name it. It’s all these unnecessary laws, you see. They’re sucking the lifeblood out of this city, draining honest folks like you and me dry without giving anything in return.”

  “Then I can see why he’d want to remain hidden,” Jin Huang said. “Now tell me, Brother Hei, how long till we get to our destination?”

  “It’s not too far,” Hei Chen said. “In fact, we’ll be arriving shortly.”

  True to his word, the carriage stopped a few minutes later. Hei Chen opened the door, letting Jin Huang out into a stunning yard. A large gray stone building covered in intricate mosaics was surrounded by a garden of violet flowers. Jin Huang recognized these mosaics—he’d seen a replica of them once. They outlined the history of the Evergreen Kingdom, including its rise to prominence and its responsibility as the vanguard against the Southern Alliance.

  They passed by a fountain on their way to the manor. Its rich waters were tinted green, and several carps swam around within its waters. In the center of the pond, high above its waters, was a golden gate. According to legend, any carp that could jump through this gate would instantly become a dragon. In a sense, cultivators were very much the same. Most could only trudge along, but the lucky few that stumbled upon lucky chances would reach the high heavens in a single bound.

  The door to the mansion opened as they approached. A butler welcomed them inside and led them up a marble staircase, where each individual step was suspended in midair. He opened the door to a large office, and a grizzled man wearing green nobles’ robes welcomed him.

  “Welcome to my humble abode!” the man said. “My name is Mufei. I’m very happy to finally meet the illustrious Master Jin.”

  “Please, Master Jin is far too heavy an honorific,” Jin Huang said. “Please call me Jin Huang.”

  “As you wish,” the man said. He led them to a fireplace, where blue flames cooled the air as they crackled. He poured them each a cup of wine and took a sip before proceeding. “I hear from Brother Hei that you have a business idea. Feel free to share your thoughts.”

  “Like I told Brother Hei, I’ve been doing rather well with our current arrangement,” Jin Huang said. “I’m extremely thankful for your support and wish to continue renting the workshop.”

  “I’m happy that you like it,” Mufei said.

  “But I have a problem,” Jin Huang said. “A supply problem. And bribing inspectors is getting increasingly expensive.”

  “Be honest with me, how much are you losing?” the man said.

  “Fifteen points, at least,” Jin Huang said. The man flinched at the number. “But it’s not like I’ve come empty-handed. Since we’re in this together, why don’t we do something about it? Shouldn’t we all be winners?”

  “I’m all ears,” Mufei said.

  “My current problem is that I want to purchase herbs, and a lot of them, at a decent price,” Jin Huang said. “Unfortunately, the businesses in town refuse to budge on pricing. If there was a way to introduce an alternate supply in the city…”

  “It’s not worth the risk for supplying you alone,” Mufei said, shaking his head.

  “All the alchemists in the city are getting ripped off,” Jin Huang pressed. “If we found enough alchemists forced to pinch pennies, we could warrant enough quantity to get a fifty-percent discount on these items. Now, let’s say we took out a twenty-percent facilitation fee. That’s a thirty-percent savings for the alchemists, nothing to scoff at.”

  “It sounds simple in principle, but I don’t know how much business we can drum up without being noticed by the wrong people,” Mufei said. “The Lion Financial Group is awfully protective of their absurdly large but tasty pie.”

  “It might be tolerable if it’s just for least-grade through mid-grade ingredients,” Jin Huang pointed out.
>
  Mufei fondled his gray-and-black beard, pondering.

  “I can give you a list of the most commonly used herbs for master alchemists to help you inquire about supply,” Jin Huang added.

  “It’s still extremely risky,” Mufei said. “Let me think on it. I’ll do some market research before committing to anything. You don’t frequent the same circles as I do, so you don’t know how frightening they are. They’ll make our life a living hell if we take too big a bite.”

  “Then I’ll be waiting for your good news,” Jin Huang said. “If you need to get a hold of me, I’ll be in the workshop experimenting.”

  “I’ll let you know in three days,” Mufei said. “By the way, how is that artificer doing, the one who shares a workshop with you?”

  “He seems happy as a clam, as long as he’s fiddling with some device or another,” Jin Huang said. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” Mufei said, shooing him off.

  Jin Huang left in the same carriage that brought him there. He left the mysterious man to his brooding as he decided on his next course of action.

  Chapter 29

  A light drizzle of rain fell onto Zi Long’s head, wetting his hair and leaking down his face before soaking his violet cultivation robes. It would have been easy to keep dry, but he didn’t bother. Instead, he took the wet weather in stride, bathing in sadness as he mourned the passing of his friend, Fan Yong. The Violet Heart Sect disciples did the same as they kneeled before the large pyre that held the corpse of their sect master.

  Seeing all these people grieving simultaneously made Zi Long wonder whether the rain was mere coincidence or the manifestation of something greater. Faith and feelings could topple mountains and light the deepest darkness.

 

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