The Grey Ghost: Book Two of the Archaic Ring Series

by Reed R. Stevens

  The old man’s calm expression fractured in an instant, his gaze darkening. “Serp is dead? Was it the city lord?”

  “Even if it was, you couldn’t avenge him.”

  Though Kanis was undoubtedly stronger than the city lord, the latter was a Verdurian noble. Most of the kingdom’s inhabitants were commoners, but on the continent its population was second only to the Thebes Empire.

  Elder Kanis’s eyes flashed with murder. “We no longer need to be wary of offending Verdure’s king.”

  Startled by the confidence in the old man’s exclamation, Brecht stared him dead in the eye. “You mean…?”

  “The summit was a failure.”

  “Then what of my mission?”

  “Lord Zanos has ordered you to return to the sect.”

  “Immediately?”

  “He said you could take a month to cultivate in the plains region, if you wanted.”

  “Then in a month’s time…?”

  Elder Kanis nodded. “It won’t be long before the people of this land come to understand a few glaring realities.”

  In recent years the relationship between the Bloodhand Sect and the kingdom of Verdure had rapidly deteriorated. Brecht had anticipated an eventual clash, but never in his wildest dreams would he have guessed that it would come so soon.

  “And what of the other sects? I can’t see them looking the other way, not after what happened during the last Acquisition.”

  Although he’d just found out that his nephew had died, Elder Kanis wore a devious grin. “Lord Sect Master has assured us that they will not intervene.”

  Their sect had hostile relations with the surrounding kingdoms, but it was a different story when it came to the other sects. All of them had labelled the Blood Arts of their sect as a taboo set of skills and techniques. They denounced them as an immoral, evil method of cultivating. Even so, none of these dominant powers were willing to risk their hegemonic positions by warring with another sect, since none were on good terms with one another. To do so would leave their backs exposed to their enemies, of which each one had plenty. In the end, they were no different than he and his fellow members.

  Finally, he’d no longer have to refine his own blood. Another Acquisition…

  The Bloodhand Sect had one fatal weakness and that weakness was also its greatest strength. The Blood Arts that served as its foundation allowed all members to cultivate at a rapid pace, to the extent that its growth had been much faster than any of the other sects in the past. The potential for a sect’s success largely depended on the martial skills that they hoarded, mainly the core cultivation methods that supplemented these skills. The capabilities of their members were dictated by the quality of these techniques, which determined the road of evolution that their bodies would undergo as they sought to become the strongest.

  Unlike the other sects that primarily relied on elixirs, spirit stones, medicinal pellets, and medicinal herbs, the sect that Brecht belonged to relied on the inner essence contained within peoples’ blood. In recent times, the sect’s growth had stagnated because it lacked the human lives necessary to supplement its development. This deficiency was the reason why it released droves of its low-ranking disciples into the surrounding regions to obtain their own resources. The way things were going, the sect was doomed to fall within a few generations.

  Lord Sect Master must have paid a heavy price in order to create this opportunity. Brecht’s blood began to boil. The political landscape of the continent would undoubtedly change in the coming years. This was a life-changing opportunity to increase his strength, one that he would thoroughly take advantage of when the time came.

  Elder Kanis turned around, his cold eyes staring off in the direction of Greenwall. “I’ve said all I need to say.”

  Just as the old man was about to take his leave, Brecht cleared his throat. “By the way, Serp wasn’t killed by the lord of Greenwall.”

  The old man paused.

  “It’s true that he and his men were ambushed by local soldiers, but he was already dead when the soldiers arrived. I’d sent a few junior brothers from the inner court to find his location and they happened to arrive during the conflict. Only one of my men came back alive, and he told me everything he’d learned after meeting up with the remnants of Serp’s group. He was killed before the ambush, by the one that we’ve been looking for.” He imitated an anxious sigh. “It appears that this wandering cultivator is more than he seems.”

  Elder Kanis remained still. Without looking back, he said, “I’ve brought one hundred disciples from the inner court along with me. I’ll leave ten behind to aid you in your mission.”

  Brecht cupped his hands together and bowed a bit deeper than before. “I will be sure to tell Grandfather of this kindness.”

  Elder Kanis disappeared in a flash.

  Once the old man’s life force left the range of his spiritual sense, Brecht smirked. Since he was in Verdure, Elder Kanis clearly had an urgent mission, so he couldn’t afford to deviate in order to avenge his nephew. Even if he found the time, Brecht’s grandfather wouldn’t take kindly to him interfering with their family’s own quest for vengeance, not after the sect master had graciously delegated this task to him. If he wanted to get revenge for what happened to Serp, the only thing he could do was leave behind a handful of his men to aid Brecht in capturing their target.

  A few quick words and Brecht had obtained a substantial lineup of subordinates. With any luck, misfortune would befall Elder Kanis now that he’d parted with a tenth of his force.

  Chapter Twenty-three: Growth

  About three months had passed since Nyla had met Uncle Grey, or at least she figured so. It was difficult to keep track of the days in this bleak, solitary world, especially when the sky remained a constant slate of inanimate grey. During this time, Nyla continued to progress at an astonishing pace thanks to the venerable spirit that had unwittingly become her teacher. Most of her daily life consisted of ceaseless training and longstanding meditation, a rigorous regime that saw her achieve one minor breakthrough after another in a never-ending stream of exciting developments.

  The core cultivation method that Uncle Grey had taught her was incredibly bizarre. Once she’d reached the initial phase of the Profound Entry stage’s second level, a small speck of golden light had detached itself from her dantian and begun to pull in small streams of inner essence directly from its former vessel. At first she’d thought that she had somehow developed a second dantian, though Uncle Grey was quick to explain to her that this was not the case, at least not yet.

  What she’d taken to be a ‘second dantian’ was something called a soul fragment. This small speck of light would slowly grow alongside her ever-heightening spiritual sense, eternally drawing in small amounts of inner essence straight from her dantian. It would then condense the inner essence that it had absorbed and nurture it into spiritual energy, the lifeblood of all arrayment practitioners. Once she fed it enough energy, it would undergo a slight transformation into a second, more powerful dantian than her original one.

  She wouldn’t be able to manifest her spiritual energy until she reached the Integration stage, which was why Uncle Grey had decided not to focus on spiritual arrayments as he tutored her and Nolan.

  Since he’d taken her under his wing, Uncle Grey had constantly boasted about having taught her the absolute pinnacle of core cultivation methods, at least as far as arrayment practitioners were concerned. Although the Ancestral Body Technique far surpassed the Profound Soul-splitting Technique in terms of potential for martial cultivation, Uncle Grey assured her that the existence of her soul fragment alone ensured that she had a higher potential as an arrayment practitioner than Nolan.

  She sat on the stone ledge of the fountain, subconsciously paddling her feet in the crystalline waters as she marvelled at her recent successes. When I sit here, I can feel it. There’s so much spiritual energy within this fountain that even I can sense it.

  Nolan soaked nearby, just his
head above the water. As with her, he hadn’t aged in the slightest since they had arrived in this world. His hair remained shaggy, but not overly so, his eyes the same deep shape of almond, always alight with resolve and intelligence.

  As he usually did whenever they took a break from training, Uncle Grey floated above them in a leisurely pose, his hands behind his head as if he were taking a nap.

  “Hey, Uncle Grey.” Nolan suddenly broke the silence. “I’ve been wondering something.”

  The old man messed around with the hood of his robes with one hand while scratching at his stomach with the other. “Yes?”

  “Actually, there’re two things I wanted to ask.” Nolan’s clever eyes peered up at the old spirit. “When you scratch yourself like that, do you even feel it? Aren’t you just doing it to annoy me?”

  Uncle Grey turned his head. “Speaking to your master in such a way, do you lack all respect?” He snickered and reverted back to his leisurely position. “Of course you do. To think you’d suspect me of such pettiness…”

  “All I’m saying is that you don’t even look at me when I ask you a question. Meanwhile, the second that Nyla opens her mouth you get all energized and even float down to speak to her at eye-level.” Nolan directed a lazy splash of water at him. “Dearest disciple, my ass. If you’re going to play favourites then least be discreet about it.”

  Nyla laughed as she watched them fall into a fit of bickering. “Nolan, take it easy on Uncle Grey. He’s our master, after all.”

  The old spirit descended with a gentle expression, as if he’d just heard the voice of an angel. He hovered beside Nyla, beaming appreciatively. “See now! Nyla is a filial disciple. Not only is her attitude toward me respectful, she is diligent and hardworking. You, on the other hand, have not so much as uttered the word ‘master’ since I took you on as my disciple.”

  Nolan let his head fall back against the stone. “I’ve been stuck at the peak of Body Nourishment for months, and have no idea when I might make a breakthrough. You haven’t really taught me anything, so why would I call you ‘master?’”

  “Didn’t you say that your cultivation speed would only get faster from now on?” asked Nyla. He looked quite confident when he’d made that statement, and yet the past few months had only brought him frustration.

  “That’s the most annoying part. I’m pulling in energy faster than ever, but my dantian isn’t even showing a hint of being full. It’s the same feeling I get at the beginning of a new level, but even then I can at least get a rough idea of when my next breakthrough will be.” He jabbed his index finger in Uncle Grey’s direction. “I’m out here busting my balls almost every hour of the day with hardly any results, meanwhile he spends all day with you. Am I really being so unreasonable here?”

  Uncle Grey rolled his eyes and floated over to where Nolan was sitting. “Lad, don’t forget that the core cultivation method you practice came from another world. You’re at the peak of Body Nourishment and yet you can match up to someone in the middle levels of the Profound Entry stage. Even in my day, such a feat was extremely uncommon.”

  “That doesn’t help me, man.”

  “Let me finish. Your capabilities extend far beyond the bounds of your cultivation. While this is true, you also require much more energy to sustain your progression than an average cultivator would need. You undergo a drastic increase in strength each time you make a breakthrough, and this time around you’re attempting to step into the next stage of cultivation. While it’s nothing impressive, the Profound Entry stage is still an entirely different realm than Body Nourishment.”

  Seeing the disheartened look in Nolan’s eyes, Nyla felt a swell of sympathy.

  “It was the same for me,” she said. “I might not practice the same cultivation method as you, but it was still a lot harder to break through from one stage to another. The levels before were nothing compared to that.” When she’d entered the Profound Entry stage, she had felt indestructible. She knew that this wasn’t the case, but the feeling of power that pulsated throughout her body had shown her the gap between the stages.

  Nolan responded with a thoughtful frown. “It’s just kind of annoying when so much time passes and I still don’t see any progress. The Origin Energy in this world is on a different level than it is on Venara, but here I am taking all this time to make a single breakthrough.”

  “Hah, let alone the upper realms of cultivation, many people go their entire lives without ever stepping foot in the Profound Entry stage.” Uncle Grey gave a condescending sigh. “You’ve been cultivating for less than a year and you’ve already made such progress. You also have the Millennial Ring and the Divine Spirit Fountain at your disposal. And here you are complaining that your cultivation speed is too slow…”

  Nyla could see that the old spirit’s words did nothing to soothe Nolan’s dejection. “I’m sure your breakthrough is not far off,” she said. “Just continue giving it your best, as you always do. I have no doubt that it will be worth all the time and effort.”

  “Nyla is right.” Uncle Grey gave Nolan a weightless pat on the shoulder. “All things considered, I’m looking forward to seeing what sort of changes you’ll undergo in the future.”

  “You might have to wait a while,” Nolan said. His expression lightened as he stared at Uncle Grey. “Anyway, the question I originally wanted to ask was about my age. With my last visit, I’ve spent at least a year in this world. That would make me seventeen-years-old, but time flows differently here. I’ve been wondering if I should think of myself as sixteen or seventeen.”

  “No matter the duration of your stay in this realm, your body won’t age a day. Time here is distorted in a way that preserves all physical objects, living, dead, animate or otherwise. I am only able to persist here because of the bountiful Origin Energies in the environment and the strange laws of this place.”

  “But my mind is seventeen, right?”

  “Yes, though your physical growth hasn’t been affected, so it wouldn’t be incorrect to say that you’re still sixteen-years-old.”

  Nyla listened closely to the explanation. After living in the glade for several months and experiencing the effects of its time dilation, she had also wondered about her age. So my body’s still on its fifteenth cycle.

  After talking around the fountain for a short while longer, Uncle Grey led Nolan off to the right side of the courtyard in order to advise him on how to better control his spiritual sense and inner essence circulation.

  Since Nyla already knew how to properly make use of her abilities, she remained in the fountain to nurture her soul fragment. After activating the Profound Soul-splitting Technique, small streaks of inner essence began trailing into the minuscule speck of light from her dantian. On top of that, she perceived dozens of thin streams making their way over to her soul fragment from the beautiful waters of the Divine Spirit Fountain, which contained large amounts of pure spiritual energy.

  Apparently Uncle Grey had cultivated in the same fashion for many years before he was forced to flee into this world with his most precious treasure. As he pointed out so often, for her to enjoy the same cultivation process as the most powerful Arrayment Master of an era was the miracle of her lifetime.

  Just months ago she’d watched a disciple of the Bloodhand Sect refine her older brother for the energies in his blood, and had resigned herself to death. Quin had been her only living relative, and aside from him she only had two friends, the young Otherworlders, Nolan and Jason, of which she felt closer to the former. Now she found herself stuck in an isolated world with him, now students to an eccentric master from a lost era.

  She missed Quin terribly, though the endless days of cultivation did well to distract her from the pain of mourning. Even so, she couldn’t help but think of him from time to time. Of her many siblings, she had originally been closest with her sister Celia and most distant with Quin. After Black Raven City had fallen and her tribesmen had been massacred, Quin had dedicated his life to protecting he
r. After losing their family, he never opened up to anybody aside from her, never trusted anyone else. She remembered the cold, unfeeling eyes through which he’d viewed the world, and prayed for him to be reunited with their family in the next life.

  “Oh damn! You see that? I strengthened my hands just like you said.”

  “For someone who’s never been taught, I’m surprised you’re able to control your inner essence so fluidly.”

  Nyla deactivated her core cultivation method and turned to look in Nolan’s direction. He sat against the short stone wall that boxed in the courtyard, cross-legged with his hands on his knees. He’d recently changed into an ordinary set of white robes, now barefooted after discarding his tattered boots.

  “What’s there to be surprised about?” he said. “I’ve been doing this for months.”

  “Months,” the old spirit harrumphed. “Let’s continue. Try focusing a smaller amount of inner essence around your toes, just enough to line the skin.”

  Nolan closed his eyes and focused for a few minutes before he looked up at Uncle Grey with a sly smile. “I see what you’re getting at. Instead of flooding my foot with a bunch of condensed inner essence, I have to divide my attention between each toe. Huh, you’d think smaller amounts of energy would be easier to deal with, but it’ll probably take a few days to get the hang of this.”

  “It’s a bit early for that smile, don’t you think?” Uncle Grey floated down to sit beside Nolan. “Go on, give it another go.”

  Odd warmth settled in Nyla’s chest as she gazed at the two of them from across the courtyard. She hadn’t felt this way since she was a young girl, back when she would spend entire afternoons with Celia and her mother. She’d lived the past several years on constant alert, rarely letting her guard down and never truly trusting of others. She almost never allowed herself to genuinely relax. Now though, in this bizarre glade of all places, she felt completely safe and at peace.