River of Fate: Emerald Alchemist, page 21
“What next?” he asked curiously.
“Wind, probably,” Verse said as he dusted the remains of the spirit stones off his robes and stood up. He stored away the remaining spirit stones in front of him at the same time. “But first, something to drink and a chance to stretch my legs. Do you want to go celebrate?”
“Yes,” Leaf agreed with an instant head bob. “Food.”
His words were simple, but the thoughts that came with them were complex, like metaphors for the world itself. The idea of food was a layer of concepts around spiritual energy, the complex signature of herbs full of vitality, the taste of leaf and bark and loam, and even a sense of passing time as the herbs grew into their strength, which seemed to be added like a piquante spice for seasoning.
He meant they tasted better when they were older. Verse chuckled as he figured that out.
The scales on Leaf’s body reflected the glow of Wood energy through the courtyard as he stretched, arching his back like a cat. He turned into a blur that reappeared on Verse’s shoulder, where he let out a burbling chirp of agreement.
Verse looked around the courtyard, admiring the flow of energy that Leaf had created. As he studied it, an idea occurred to him for the Forest Emerald and Guardian Bark he had left over, as well as the rest of the elemental spirit stones he didn’t need.
He’d been building the foundation for his Nine Dragon Meridian Art for a while, using the natural energy of the world to expand his meridians and strengthen his body. Now that he’d reached a basic understanding of Wood, he could take the next step.
The art required an enormous amount of vitality to improve, and Wood was the best element to absorb to support it. Those two treasures would be useful, as would the leftover Wood spirit stones and the natural formation here.
The first level of the art was called First Dragon Breathing. It focused on drawing in energy from the world and attuning himself to the natural dao. That allowed him to strengthen his bloodline and body. It also improved his healing and regeneration of spiritual energy. It had strong crossovers with insight into nature and the elements.
Perhaps with these items, and some time gathering Wood energy, he could make some progress.
The art had nine layers. Each of them corresponded to a unique dragon meridian through his body, basically creating a new one that wasn’t there before. Doing that required a vast amount of energy and time, but the result was even better.
According to the shrine, each meridian was supposed to give him the strength of a true dragon. When he finished all of them, he would have the strength of nine dragons. He chuckled as he looked around the courtyard.
He wasn’t sure exactly how much power that was in modern terms, but the time it took to progress in the art was certainly equivalent.
It was slow.
So far, he was only a small way into forming his first meridian, perhaps around 10% or a bit less, but even that brought a great increase in strength. He was lean and muscular, but his physical strength was around a realm higher than his cultivation, near the peak of the Aligned realm.
Plans drifted through his mind as he patted Leaf on the head and turned for the door. It was late in the evening now, but the restaurant down the street would still be open. He just needed to get there soon.
At that moment, however, his movement was halted by a scratching sensation that crawled across his mind. It was coming from the echo of a spiritual imprint he’d created. It was also unwelcome and very familiar, since he’d just built the formation that was causing it.
It was a warning from the wards on the house.
His expression darkened as he swept his senses across his home. Surging flames gathered across his body. They were a mixture of colors, primarily golden with an edge of crimson and silver, but also touched with emerald as anger ignited in his heart and awoke his bloodline.
On his shoulder, Leaf hissed in agreement and his claws tightened on Verse’s shoulder. The flames were part of Verse’s will and didn’t harm him. They only made the elemental’s scales gleam with forest hues and gave him a fiercer appearance.
“Intruders,” the shrine agreed as it scanned the area. It had access to the formation and its experience with it was far more adept than Verse’s. “They’re climbing over the rear wall now.”
The words came at the same time as Verse sensed their presence. There were two of them, their figures shrouded in darkness and a strange reddish aura that was only perceptible at the edge of his awareness. He wasn’t sure who they were, but the red aura gave him a certain suspicion.
One he would examine later.
First, he needed to deal with them.
Since they were able to penetrate the wards, they had to have a strong background. They would have needed a Primal Spirit-level talisman to conceal themselves this well. Their own strength, however, was unlikely to be that high.
Based on the telltales they left while passing through the wards, their cultivation was probably in the Aligned realm. If they’d been stronger, the wards wouldn’t have detected them at all with their skills. They also wouldn’t have needed to be so stealthy.
Instead of being alarmed by the intrusion, a slight smile crossed his face. It had been a while since he’d had a fight. He wasn’t the same young knight who had struggled so much back in Whitestone to deal with a single Aligned-realm adept.
A flicker of will summoned a golden spear into his hand, one that he’d acquired a few months before from some bandits. It was an Aligned weapon and engraved with swirling clouds along its length, as well as the suggestion of wings, which was one of the reasons he’d kept it.
He didn’t know where the bandits had acquired it, but it was made from a high-quality material called Flowing Gold, and it had some flexibility as well as a solid weight. The inscriptions on it could have been better, but the main thing was that it was able to stand up to his strength.
A flicker of will along his connection to the formation converted the wards to a concealment and containment structure, one that was designed to seal off the area and prevent anyone outside from sensing what was happening here.
At the same time, glowing emerald mist filled the courtyard around him, mixing with the flames that were hovering along his skin. He turned his attention to the back wall and he watched as two shadowy figures dropped down into the courtyard.
They were being cautious and their movements were slow, but as soon as they were inside the house, they noticed him standing there. There was only a moment of hesitation as they stared at him in shock, but they were well-trained and it didn’t last for long.
They threw themselves forward like two bolts of dark lightning, their movements blending into shadows that hung around them. They had to be at Touch of the Dao with the Shadow or Darkness element.
Unfortunately for them, the courtyard was the domain of Wood, and their shadows had no place to hide. They were highlighted against the background of the verdant green energy of the herbs.
“Leaf, protect the courtyard from the battle,” Verse sent. The instruction made the elemental disappear from his shoulder as he faded into the background.
Two streaks of dark blades shot out from the first assassin as a cloud of grey poisonous smoke exploded from the second. The smoke billowed outward, trying to fill the courtyard, but its progress was slow.
Verse swept his spear through the air in front of him, knocking the first blade out of the way with a harsh clang of metal, but the second one was staggered closely behind it and he couldn’t bring the spear around again in time.
Instead, a circular formation of bright silver symbols sprang up from his left hand, forming a shield that he used to deflect the second knife. As the blade ricocheted away, it left a trail of corrosive qi sizzling in the air.
He didn’t have any Soul Talismans prepared to unleash on these two assassins, but a defensive shield was simple. As that blade flew away, he spun the spear back with his right hand and pointed it at the figure on the right.
A sphere of golden flames gathered at the point of the spear like a burning sun and then blasted forward in a hundred rays of crimson-tinted light. It was Crimson Sunset Strike, one of his oldest techniques.
The rays ripped through the air toward the figure and swept him away in a barrage of strikes, hurling him across the courtyard until he slammed into the back wall. If the wards on the house hadn’t been there, he would have blasted straight through it.
It probably wasn’t enough to kill him, but it would keep him busy for a moment.
Verse turned his attention to the second assassin, who was closing in on his left. The dark-clothed figure had abandoned ranged attacks and now matte black short blades were in his hands as he slashed forward.
Shadows leapt away from the blades and turned into ten-foot-long serrated fangs that cut down toward Verse, like the night had turned into a monster and come alive.
In response, Verse dismissed the silver formation shield and a low roar echoed through the courtyard. Emerald flames gathered around his body, pouring toward his left hand as he raised it in the air.
The flames formed into an image of a dragon’s claw with intricate scales and sharp talons that was superimposed over Verse’s hand. He swept the claw through the air to meet the shadows.
The flames roared with a draconic anger as they tore through the shadow fangs and left them in fragments. Then the claw slammed down toward the assassin.
The figure tried to dodge, but he’d made the mistake of closing in. He gathered shadows around himself as his speed increased and he dodged to the side, but he was too close to escape.
The dragon claw slammed down like the fury of the heavens as it ripped through the man with five sharp talons. The assassin’s body exploded into fragments as the claw slammed into the earth, making the courtyard tremble.
Even Verse was surprised by how easily the man had died, but the strike told him the assassin was only at the early tier of the Aligned realm. Facing him at that level was asking for death.
The only remains of the assassin was a new cloud of grey smoke that exploded as his body began to disintegrate, the result of some talisman or technique that was triggered by his death.
Verse sent a wave of flames toward the cloud of smoke, but he didn’t pay any more attention to it as he turned back to the other one.
The remaining assassin had survived the initial strike and was peeling himself off the far wall. His movements were slow, but they were speeding up as a blood-red mist began to gather around him.
A pulse of bright spiritual energy shot away from him, trying to escape through the wards, but when it struck the rear wall, it disintegrated in a flash of yellow and blue light as the formation intercepted it.
“That won’t help you,” Verse said as he walked forward. His spear was slanted toward the figure in his right hand, while his left hand was still overlaid by an emerald dragon’s claw. Silver scars like scales were visible on his skin, making the claw look somehow natural.
“Normally, I’d spend some time asking where you came from and why,” he added, “but you made a mistake in coming into my home.”
He raised his left hand and the emerald claw grew larger until it resembled a real dragon’s claw formed of flames. Then he brought it slicing down toward the assassin. It was far larger than the assassin, but as it approached him, it slammed into the blood-red mist around him and slowed down a fraction, just enough for the assassin to roll out of the way.
The sound of a wailing spirit echoed through the courtyard, stabbing at Verse’s ears as he turned to track the assassin. The mist was growing larger now, and more wails joined the first as it became denser, making that edge of the courtyard hard to see through.
In the depths of the mist, the assassin’s figure faded in and out as he moved. He rolled across the ground and jumped to his feet, where he pulled out several objects and hurled them across the courtyard toward Verse.
One of them was a small skull, while others were fragments of bone, shards of crystal, and two dark-colored disks. The disks exploded into clouds of the same grey poison that the assassins had used before, which began to expand across the courtyard.
The other items released a stronger wailing of trapped spirits. Images of thrashing figures and twisted beasts formed in the red mist, each of them anchored to one of the different objects. Their screams were piercing as they created a mental attack that stabbed at his mind.
Silver-tinged flames surged around him like a tide as Verse took in a deep breath and then let out a roar that echoed through the courtyard. The sound was infused with the bright radiance of sunrise.
It tore through the screams and the wailing spirits' bodies, ripping them away from the objects that anchored them as it shredded their forms into streamers of mist.
A dragon’s roar was a spiritual attack in its own right and when it was mixed with his dao, it was anathema to the dark spirits. Dealing with them gave the assassin a moment to prepare a larger attack, however.
“You’re more difficult than I expected,” the man snarled with a raspy voice, “but it doesn’t matter. Let’s see how you deal with these Sky Rending Ghosts!”
His hands rose as he threw out three dark vials. Each of them was about six inches long and a thumb wide, and they were made of obsidian that glimmered in the flames. All three shattered in the air, releasing quickly expanding clouds of violent red mist.
The assassin began forming hand seals and chanting as he gestured at the mist. Spiritual energy cascaded around him, making the area where he was standing seem like it had turned into a blood-red sea.
Within seconds, the mist from the vials expanded into three specters that were ten feet tall. Each of them had a screaming face and wild eyes, long red hair that trailed behind their backs in lanky strands like it was matted with blood, and fingernails that were a foot long with sharp, jagged edges.
The red mist throughout the courtyard and the energy around the assassin poured into them, making their bodies grow more substantial. Within an instant, they took on a physical presence that released a quivering wave of suppression into the air.
The air was filled with a nauseating smell like rancid blood and rotting graves. A single sniff told Verse that it also carried a deadly poison. It burned in his nostrils like a rotting grave until his flames incinerated it, leaving behind a scorched scent that was much purer.
He gripped the Flowing Gold Spear in his hand as he took a deep breath, but instead of charging forward, he kept his position. He reached out to the courtyard around him, sensing the life of the herbs, and then he nodded.
Each of the ghosts was as strong as an early Aligned adept and had unique abilities. It would normally take him a few moments to deal with them, which could give the assassin a chance to escape, but he didn’t plan to let that happen.
He pulled a handful of living seeds from his soul space and hurled them into the air in front of him. Then he reached out with his new attunement to Wood and channeled some of the abundant vitality from the courtyard into them.
At the same time, he took a deep breath and let out a resounding roar. This one was filled with emerald flames that washed across the courtyard. When the flames touched the seeds, they burst into life, quickly expanding into a field of sharp brambles that spread across the area.
There were so many brambles that the entire courtyard was covered in them. Their thorns stabbed through the ghosts and blocked off their movements, and then they continued spreading, hemming in the assassin in the distance before he could escape.
Meanwhile, the emerald flames didn’t stop there. They continued to spread, burning through the red mist and destroying the ghosts’ poison in the air. The ghosts had nowhere to escape to as the flames reached them.
The three red spirits let out despairing shrieks as the flames swept through them. It was like watching a wildfire spread through a grassy field and leave behind nothing but scorched and purified earth.
Everywhere the flames passed, the spirits ceased to be. The red mist fueling them was burned away by dragon flames.
“What is...that?” The assassin’s voice rose to a feverish pitch as he looked at the flames and then toward Verse. He spun around to escape, but the brambles surrounded him on every side, cutting off his path.
As the flames continued to burn, Verse turned to look at the assassin. The spear in his hand traced a circle in the air. It was composed of crimson sunset flames on one side and silver sunrise flames on the other. The flames began to spin, cycling around one another and creating a fluid ripple in the air as it shot toward the assassin.
The man didn’t say anything, but his movements became more desperate as he tried to dodge. He twisted in place, hurling a wave of red needles at Verse that hissed in the air. Then he tried to gather the red mist around himself again, combining it this time with the shadows that had hidden his arrival.
Before he could complete his technique, Verse’s attack arrived.
The Solar Cycle was a nearly invisible ripple of flame in the air as it struck the assassin and passed through to the other side, where it faded into nothing. In its wake, the man’s body began to shake.
The tremors grew more pronounced as cracks appeared along his body with golden and silver flames burning in them. Then the space where he was standing twisted inward like a vortex, dissolving into a field of brilliant solar light.
His body exploded, the fragments disintegrating as they flew outward.
Solar Cycle was one of Verse’s strongest abilities. It was a condensation of the daos of sunrise and sunset, along with their concepts of death and rebirth, and it created two opposing forces that tore apart the target inside.
In the months since he’d created it, he’d realized it was just the beginning of a much longer path, but that didn’t make it any less effective.
He raised his hand into the air and the emerald flames all around the courtyard surged, devouring the last of the red mist and the three specters, as well as the remains of the grey smoke, bone fragments, and shadows that the assassins had left all over his home.
