River of Fate: Emerald Alchemist, page 32
It was an Aligned realm weapon, but it wasn’t capable of channeling the energy he was pushing into it. Combining everything like this was more than it could take. It wouldn’t be long before it shattered.
As the elder’s aura surrounded him, amethyst and emerald flames roared out, burning it away. Verse launched himself away, trying to evade the skeletal hand that was blazing toward him.
Unfortunately, he was a little too slow.
The bone fingers were like blades as they caught at his right side. His scales split under the force as the fingers sliced into his arm, leg, and hip, and drew three deep lines of blood.
He staggered, turning his leap into a somersault as he rolled across the ground, trying to absorb the force of the blow. The hand chased after him, its fingers dark with his blood.
Poisonous white mist billowed out from the wounds, burning with cold fury. The skin near the wounds began to stiffen as it turned an ugly white. If the poison had its way, he’d be a frozen corpse within moments.
Fortunately, the Cleansing Rain Pills and his own flames warred with the poison, preventing it from sinking too deeply, but it still slowed him down.
The bone claw came around for another attack, but this time it hovered in the air. A wave of ghosts formed out of the white mist around it. There were a dozen of them, and each one swiftly grew more solid as the corpse wind from around the cavern flowed into them. It was like it was feeding them.
Within moments, a dozen ghostly cultivators stood between the elder and Verse. Their expressions were vacant, but their eyes were the same deadly white as the mist, giving them an eerie and poisonous appearance.
“You’ve been marked by my corpse poison,” the elder laughed. “No matter how much you struggle, soon your body will freeze and you’ll serve me in death. Enjoy the last minutes of your life and play with these specters of mine. Soon, you’ll be one of them.”
Verse took a deep breath as he gathered his energy. Emerald flames poured off him, filling the area around him with a sense of Wood and Stone. He could feel them at work, purging the poison in the wounds.
Within a minute, it would be gone. Vitality was already returning to his skin where it had turned cold, but it was in his interest to keep that from Corsewind as long as possible. Instead of responding, he turned toward the remaining assassin and flicked his hand.
Two soul talismans flew through the air.
Each of them was based around the draconic word for Fire, and as they closed in, that section of the cavern exploded into a massive wash of crimson flame.
He didn’t stop to check whether or not the assassin survived as he reached into his spatial ring and pulled out the two Ghost Warding talismans that he’d acquired from the first assassins. An instant later, he activated them and hurled them in front of the dozen specters that Corpsewind had summoned.
The talismans exploded twin pillars of ghostly white flame, filling the space in front of him. The color of these flames was brighter than what Corpsewind used, and there was something calmer about them.
As soon as the specters saw them, their movements slowed. They turned to look at the flames, their expressions turning solemn. They almost looked peaceful as they stood there, staring at something that only they could see.
“You think you can use my own sect’s techniques against me?” Corpsewind’s voice filled the cavern as he scoffed. “I admire your tenacity. If I were weaker, that might work, but your efforts are futile. Those talismans are not enough to control my specters.”
The elder reached out with his bony claw and grabbed the first pillar. It blazed with a ghostly purity as he crushed it in his grip. It resisted for a moment, bending inward at the center, but then it exploded into fragments. Wisps of white energy shot outward.
The half of the specters that were closest shuddered as their attention returned. Their eyes filled with white mist again and snarls returned to their lips. Like a silent army, they pivoted as they turned to face Verse.
The elder reached out again, and with a moment’s effort, he crushed the second pillar. As soon as he did, awareness returned to the rest of the specters. Then as one, they flew toward Verse.
Their hands were outstretched like claws as they reached for him, their bodies blurring across the distance in an instant.
The delay with the talismans had given Verse a little more time to recover from his wounds, which were burning fiercely. Blood ran down half his body from the three cuts, but it was being reabsorbed by Formless Body, so he wouldn’t bleed out. His mobility was slowly returning.
He’d wanted to hide that for as long as possible to get in a good strike, but now he didn’t have the chance. He spun the spear in his hand as he focused on the Amethyst Harrow pill, sensing how much energy was left.
It wasn’t a lot. He needed to finish this.
As the specters closed in, his spear lashed out like a striking flame, hitting one and then another. Where it passed, flames seared through the substance of the specters, burning giant swathes of their substance away to nothing.
Corpsewind was hanging back, waiting for the specters and the corpse poison to bring him down, which gave Verse the chance to gather his energy, and he used it. Jade essence and his bloodline roared as his aura surged, intensifying by the second.
Normally, he wouldn’t need to gather his energy like this, but the suppression of the elder’s aura was still there. It meant he needed to condense his attack if he wanted it to have the right effect.
Across the cavern, the blast from the two fire talismans he’d thrown out finally dissipated, revealing the second assassin. He was singed from the explosion and the blood mist around him had burned away, but he was still alive. He was surrounded by a dark Wind-based shield that had deflected some of the blast.
His expression was hard as he glared at Verse and the specters. Then he began circling around to the side, holding a dark blade in his hand as he began to create more blood mist.
Verse kept him in his field of vision as he spun and stabbed at another specter. He had almost gathered enough energy. Unfortunately, there was no way to hide that the poison wasn’t affecting him.
A few seconds later, the elder’s expression hardened as he figured it out.
“If poison won’t work on you, there’s still another way to make you into a puppet,” Corsewind growled. He turned toward the remaining assassin as he barked out a command. “Use the soul crown and capture him!”
Immediately, the assassin swapped his blade into one hand and with the other he pulled out an ugly yellow crown made out of bone. It was a jagged thing made from interlinked finger bones and long fangs that descended on the temples, and it had a savage and oppressive aura.
As soon as it was visible, the air around it began to howl mournfully, like it was lamenting. Even the worldly dao didn’t approve of the thing’s existence.
The sect had the reputation of creating soul slaves, and this had to be something related to that evil. If that thing ended up on his head, it would be ugly. He would probably be able to break it, but he couldn’t afford the distraction.
“You’ll serve the sect whether you like it or not,” Corpsewind decreed arrogantly. “Once that crown is on your head, you’ll be mindlessly obedient. It’s a waste, since it will mean your soul will be damaged and I won’t be able to turn you into a ghost servant, but I can still refine your body into a puppet.”
“You will not get that chance,” Verse said as he shook his head. “You also overestimate yourself.”
The specters were still trying to attack him, but half of them were nothing but shredded wisps of energy now. The Amethyst Harrow Pills were nearly consumed, but it was time. His energy was fully condensed.
With a wave of his spear, he slashed a fiery arc through the specters in front of him and then he released a chain of soul talismans at them and the assassin, clearing the space. The spear spun in his hand as he turned to face Corpsewind.
All around him, a massive aura was building. One half of it was lined with silver flames and the other with crimson. Beneath that, emerald flames were surging, pouring into the light as it began to spin.
“You follow the Dao of the Grave, is it?” he asked as he stared at Corsewind. “Graves are meant to be buried. Let me help you out.”
With that, the aura around him spun faster, intensifying until it looked like a sun was shining behind his back. Nearly his entire pool of jade essence flowed into, as well as energy from his bloodline and the remaining fragment of the pills.
The elder’s ghost wind crashed against it as howls sounded out, but as they met the spinning sun, they were burned away by the combined energies inside.
At the same time, Verse’s eyes changed as twin suns appeared in them. In his right eye, the sun was setting in crimson fury, and in the left, it was rising in a silver dawn.
“Dusk to Dawn,” Verse’s voice rang out across the cavern, carrying with it a unique force that infused everything around him.
Time stood still as his aura exploded outward.
The area around Verse turned into a brilliant field of silver and crimson energy that spread in every direction, filling half of the cavern. The blazing light of the sun setting and rising again twisted reality, sending cracks of pure energy shivering through the air.
Energy that was the exact opposite of ghosts.
The cavern burned with life and fury as everything inside its range was subjected to the contrasting forces of the sun.
The scattered forms of the specters disintegrated in the face of it.
Dusk to Dawn relied on Verse’s soul and his understanding of the dao, and both were stronger than his cultivation. His aura raged across the cavern.
The elder’s ghost wind crumbled where they met, leaving the air pure and sizzling with a sense of restful flames.
Corpsewind screamed in pain as he threw his arm across his face, trying to block out the fury that was drowning him and piercing his spirit. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but his skin began smoking as great cracks appeared, which instantly turned black.
On the far side of the cavern, the assassin wasn’t as lucky. When the ability reached him, his body simply disintegrated, torn apart under the dual forces that were twisting space.
The crown in his hands was scorched, turning black in an instant as cracks shivered across its surface. Then, between one moment and the next as the sun tore at it, it exploded, sending charred fragments hurtling in every direction.
At the center of that field, Verse drew in a deep breath, and then he moved, his hands blurring.
Dusk to Dawn was his most powerful area ability. It was especially good against ghosts, but its duration was limited.
He let out a roar that echoed through the cavern and emerald flames leapt up, merging into a massive dragon’s claw that covered his hand. He channeled all of his strength as he brought it crashing down on Corpsewind.
He felt the elder’s bones crack as he slammed him into the cavern floor.
Then he did it again, ignoring his injuries as he poured out all his energy. More bones shattered with dull cracks like sticks breaking.
But then Corsewind’s aura flared beneath his hand and an enormous force swelled up. It was a bone white explosion that swept up Verse and hurled him away, launching him across the cavern where it slammed him into the far wall.
Corpsewind let out a hiss as he forced himself to his feet, his body glowing with violent energy as ghostly streamers whipped around him. His hair was floating and his features had all turned to pale bone.
Before, he’d had one hand that looked like a skeleton, and it was only when he was using a technique. Now, his entire body had turned skeletal. It was a mix of naked bone and thin, stretched skin with a cadaverous appearance
His skin had drawn in and turned chalk white, leaving him with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes that were the same white shade as the specters he’d summoned before. His hair was ash grey, like strands of funeral dust, and it was tangled down his back in lanky, unkempt strands.
His robes had turned the same ashen color, but they gave off a sense of tombstones and graveyards.
Despite Corpsewind’s appearance, a massive aura of vitality flared around him, spiraling in the air as the shrine’s warning rang out. The energy was being sucked into his body with every passing breath. Where there had been ghosts and specters, they were all gone now.
The wind blowing around him was clear and cold, without a hint of any other presence.
Killing a Primal Spirit cultivator wasn’t as easy as it seemed.
“That form...!” The shrine shouted. “Be careful. That’s not a normal transformation. There’s something similar to a bloodline in it. If it’s what it looks like, it’s much too close to the netherblood demons, maybe from one of their lesser branches.”
The image of a severely gaunt figure with dusky grey skin and black eyes that seemed to draw in the world around them flared in Verse’s mind. It was a humanoid that was similar in some ways to Corpsewind’s appearance, but the demon’s hair was pitch black and it had elongated, diamond-tipped ears.
Its features were also far more elegant than the elder’s. Even with a gaunt body, there was something graceful and dangerous about it. More than that, however, was the massive aura around it that drew in energy like a black hole, to such a degree that it felt like the world would crumble to ash around it.
“This is a Netherblood Demon,” the shrine sent quickly. “He’s not that, but he might be a descendant of some thin bloodline.”
“I can’t believe you forced me to consume all the stored soul energy I’ve saved up all these years,” Corpsewind growled as he looked toward Verse. “I was going to make you a puppet, but that will not be enough to pay for this debt. I will hunt down everyone related to you and turn them into soul slaves. Your entire line will serve me for eternity to pay back a fraction of what you’ve taken.”
His transformation was something from his dao, perhaps a physique aligned with death or tombstones, but what mattered was that he looked even more durable than before.
“The demons never uplifted other races like the Hearts,” the shrine added as he studied the elder, “but they were well known for their lust, which meant they spread their roots in other ways. That entire line has a powerful ability to absorb energy, especially negative types. It might be what made this one into a ghost cultivator and explain how he stored soul energy. That’s not a normal human ability.”
The shrine was probably right, but at this point, it didn’t matter unless it gave him a good way to kill Corpsewind. Without that, he was going to have to do it the regular way. Despite the danger, it didn’t change anything important.
He’d been hoping that Dusk to Dawn would finish things, but Corpsewind was more durable than he’d thought.
“You should never have followed me here, nor kidnapped alchemists from the guild,” Verse replied calmly, but there was some strain in his voice as he pushed himself to his feet. “As for threats, save them for someone you can frighten.”
Searing points of pain stabbed at him as cracked bones and ripped muscles protested the movement. His injuries weren’t light, but he ignored them, sealing them over with jade essence.
It was enough to let him move, but it was slow and difficult.
The three gashes on his side had been torn open by the impact with the wall and were trying to bleed profusely again, but Formless Body kept them from truly tearing open. His bloodline and his innate jade healing were burning throughout his body, but it would be a little while before they could finish the job.
Between the two of them, Corsewind was in better shape.
“Those worthless heritage alchemists? That’s what this is about?” The elder laughed harshly, almost in disbelief as he stared across the cavern at Verse. His gaunt appearance gave his words a savage edge, but he seemed willing to spend a moment talking before he attacked again.
“I thought the sect master was just making that up as a reason. You seriously care that much about a handful of Essence Condensation cultivators from mediocre families?”
“Making them into soul slaves will only bring destruction to your sect.” Verse said as he gathered his own energy. He reinforced the jade essence that was sealing his wounds, doing his best to restore his effectiveness while the elder was still talking. “The Alchemists’ Guild already knows what you’re doing. Soon, your sect will be wiped off the map. You are fools.”
Corpsewind laughed, the sound a harsh grate of bones sliding against each other. It wasn’t clear if he even had enough air in his lungs to breathe properly anymore.
“Don’t be naive,” he said in a voice that sounded like broken glass. “The guild is not as powerful as you think, and they have to answer to the empire. They will fall in line like everyone else. They won’t have a choice when their guild branch is under our control and all the sects in the area obey us. History has proven that. They won’t destroy millions of innocents to break our influence. The Desolate Mind Pill isn’t so easily reversed.”
At this point, it didn’t look like Corpsewind cared about revealing secrets. One of them wasn’t leaving this place alive. It was only fragments of information, but it was enough to put things together.
It looked like the sect was somehow using the heritage alchemists to create the Desolate Mind Pill, which then allowed them to control the people they forced it on. It was probably some extension of their soul slave technique, just like that bone crown.
From the sound of it, some other sect had done something similar in the past, which was where they had gotten the idea. It made him curious, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.
It was information he wanted, but its value right now was low. It would only be useful in the future. He shook his head as he finished sealing his wounds.
After speaking, Corpsewind stretched out his skeletal arms and bared his teeth at Verse in what might have been a cruel smile. With his sunken features, it was gruesome.
