Edwin walked out of Elder Ryan’s tent, satisfied with himself. He had impressed the Elder with his swordsmanship, and the Elder even tasked him to train a few recruits with swords for ten sect points an hour. The Elder had also warned him about Dwelling, and he would follow that advice—even though he itched to learn more about his powers. He was curious, but not stupid. Now, he had a clear schedule until they arrived at the Aether tribe. The first and most important one was to train Jimmy with his target. Edwin was both surprised and pleased to find out over the next week that he had an obvious talent with it. “You are incredible,” Edwin praised his brother. Jimmy beamed at him. *** Edwin walked among the assembly of all twenty recruits. He corrected their posture, gave them advice to fix their mistakes, and praised those who were exceeding expectations. None of them made any scene or voiced any complaints—they only asked the relevant questions. Edwin knew why. Elder Ryan had m
Edwin woke up in a room in what he thought was a healing ward. The last time he passed through the teleportation formation, he had come out with sharp wounds throughout his body. This time, there was no sign of wounds. Only, his soul felt exhausted, as if he had run a marathon twice over. There was very little in the room aside from twenty beds separated by white curtains. A table beside each bed contained apparatus, which he thought had medical purposes. There was a pitcher filled with some kind of elixir he did not know about on the table next to his bed with an instruction for him to drink a glass of it every two hours. He found all of his companions in the same room. Jimmy and Chris were already up and running. Even Rina was already up. The only person still unconscious was Sigmund. Even though he found not a single speck of dust in his body. Edwin felt filthy. So, he asked an attendant about a bath house who generously gave him the direction but instructed him to come back for
Linden ducked to the side, dodging the distortion of force that looked like a simmering edge of a blade. Of course, that attack would not have wounded him that badly. Tim would never attack him with something that could endanger his life.His Fate Perception screamed danger, and he dodged another three blades of pure force that produced sharp cuts in the arena. Linden was getting nowhere with this fight. There was no progress. Fighting against Tim was like trying to hit an elephant with a rotten stick. Pointless! Their advancement realm was too far apart for this fight to be worth anything. But he had no other choice. His previous experience with the Assassin taught him fighting against anyone else was inviting his own death. Either way, he could not fight with someone that would allow him to progress further.Linden felt Tim setting up another attack. It was worthless.Linden threw his sword away. “Enough,” he said. “This is getting me nowhere. Even if ten of me were fighting against
Linden’s guards and his father fanned out, circling the forest. He walked straight into the forest, following the direction on the map. His first destination was a nest—home to two or three beasts. It didn’t take Linden long to find the monsters. The monsters perched on a nest on the ground made up of broken branches under the canopy of trees. The bird-like beast had a thin, elongated neck. A head hardly the size of Linden’s fist crowned its neck. It had two long legs with heavy talons—that could probably cave in his ribs with a single kick. The plumage on its black bulbous body was a cluster of bladed feathers—sharp as knives. A simple spiritual scan told Linden the largest of the birds was in the Elementary realm with the fire aspect core. The two other birds were in the Ordinary realm and their core had yet to mature, so they wouldn’t be able to use any fire-based attacks. It took humans and vampires about fifteen years to mature their cores, and only a few months for monsters. ‘
What kind of neck was that? No matter—Linden told himself. The sword was old and ordinary, barely invested with the power of Blood Core. The sword was only good for practice anyway, not for battle against the monster at the peak of the Elementary Realm. He threw the useless sword away and popped another blood pill into his mouth. He circulated his Drogen to the extreme, at the edge of it becoming painful, any more than that, and he would shatter his meridians. Linden dashed past the bushes and branches, pouncing on the monster. He dodged each of the flaming projectiles that barred his path. His fate perception made it easy. It was a time like this that made Linden want to kiss Riot for choosing him. If only she didn’t have that… personality. Linden pivoted, evading the flaming monster’s lunging kick. He swallowed the blood pill in his mouth and grabbed the beast by its neck. The flame surrounding the beast flared to greater life as a defensive measure. The fire engulfed Linden, y
Edwin absent-mindedly picked a cookie-shaped snack from the stall and shoved it into his mouth. It was crunchy and spicy rather than sweet and crunchy, which was a pleasant surprise.“Edwin? Doesn’t this remind you of all the bass and parties back at Vancorg Tribe?” Chris said between a mouthful of snacks Edwin had no name for.Edwin grunted. He wouldn’t know, would he?—he had never engaged in them. He eyed the room. There were too many people packed in the same room. It was claustrophobic.Instead of the strangers, Edwin focused on his friends for comfort. Sigmund was busy gorging himself with every strange snack he saw. He was acting like a street urchin dropped in a feast. Jimmy stood behind him like a bodyguard ready to protect him—silent as ever.Rina was shaking hands with yet another stranger. They had just arrived at the tribe and the woman was already making deals and developing hordes of connection. What was the big deal, anyway? Were scripters really that valuable? Edwin di
That day Edwin went to visit the said office to retrieve his class schedule. In his room, Edwin read the list of his classes. —No. 1:- The Drogen’s law —No. 2:- Meditation & Household Magic —No. 3:- Battle Magic —No. 4:- Theory of Cultivation & Vital Technique —No. 5:- Combat Training —No. 6:- Law & Politics —No. 7:- Hunting Each module came with the number of classes per week, its time and venue. Hunting and Battle magic didn’t start for a month. Edwin looked forward to all these classes except for Law and Politics—it was never his strong suit. Chris would probably ace it. *** Edwin clutched the map in both his hands so hard that he almost tore it in half. Chris laughed at his expense. Edwin was glad that he and Chris shared all their classes, even if she was laughing at him. He didn’t want to be alone among the strangers. “Why does this place have to be so huge? And everything looks the same. How do people even navigate this place?” She extended her hand to him. Edwin fr
“For one thing, vampires advance through a unique method. For another, the core of Body Transition Realm isn’t the only factor for advancement. Advancement to Body Transition Realm entails the achievement of a body with a certain aptitude. A body that is faster than anything else, a body that can fly, a body that can grow far stronger with each advancement. I myself have a body called Fading Mist—I can turn myself invisible and make my movements almost imperceptible, even with spiritual perception. So, how do we gain bodies with such incredible ability?” “By the use of elixir or artifacts during advancement.” “Excellent, child. What is your name?” “Rina greets her master.” “Why is it always her that hogs all the attention?” Chris whispered in Edwin’s ear. Edwin was too busy listening to all the secrets of cultivation to spare any attention to the feud between Rina and Chris. So, he half-heartedly replied something. The answer must have satisfied her, because it brought a smile to
Jimmy listened to the elder, who taught them the properties of various metals. “This is Firesteel, this is Watersteel, this is Bloodsteel…” The elder got out seven metals and introduced them to the class. These were the best conductor of said Law and amplified their effect. The elder produced another seven metals and explained about each of them; Firebane, Spiritbane and Earthbane and so on. These were poor conductors of corresponding Laws—almost an insulator. These metals either diminished or nullified the effect of the corresponding Law. Jimmy learned much in his Blacksmith class. The identities of unique metals, their source, their properties—and how and what to forge with them. How to make an object of power? It was a simple process, impossible as it was to believe. First, forge a required item, take a beast core, and after that reach out with spiritual sense to the item through the core and push the power of the core to the item—the spiritual sense was the medium to such tran
Rina repeatedly tapped the table with her index finger. This was getting on her nerves. The man no older than her, who sat opposite her, inspected the inscription on the dagger she had carved, turning it round and round in his hands. Rina scoffed. As if he knew anything about the scripts. Scripting was The Most technical art of Drogen. “You have excellent calligraphy,” the man said.Rina snorted. “A fish that can’t swim is worthless.” “Point. Shall we test your handiwork? I hope they are as powerful as they are beautiful.”The scripter woman nodded. Finally! She would earn her keep and be rid of the man soon.The runes in the dagger glowed golden. The man flicked his wrist and the dagger cut through the air and struck the wall. There was little sound. Golden lines of runes flickered across the room. The dagger quivered for a second and dropped.Her pride swelled like a balloon. She had done a better job than she had believed. “To think the dagger activated the protection formation
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Edwin asked on their way to class. “You had to visit a healer three times this week. Please tell me what is happening with you, maybe I can help.” “I am fine,” Chris said. A wave of nausea struck her. The world must hate her. Why did it have to happen now when she had just told Edwin she was fine? If the man hadn’t caught her, she would probably be bleeding from her nose right now.“Chris, can you stand by yourself?” The man looked ready to princess-carry her if need be–that she would not allow.Chris pushed herself out of Edwin’s arms and jumped up and down to show she was perfectly fine, thank you very much. She was, and anyone who said otherwise be damned. “See, I am fine.”“You weren’t, just a second ago. I think it best to go see a healer.”Chris caressed Edwin’s hand. She did her best to make her voice as soothing as possible. What she was about to say Edwin wouldn’t like. “You needn't worry about what’s happening to me. You know how we were
Only when Chris was well away from Linden and the arena did the consequences of what she had done dawn on her. What was she thinking dunking him in the water? If Linden had taken what she had done as offence and not as a joke, she would be howling in pain for who knew how long. Perhaps forever. She must have been mad. Why did she always let the anger get the best of her? She had to learn to control it better. ‘What’s done is done,’ she told herself firmly. ‘There is no point in fretting over it.’ Aside from her horrible mistake with Linden that could have ended up with her head on a pike, her days went smoothly—with only one sour note. It was, of course, Rina. Chris asked herself a thousandth time why she was sharing a room with her. The woman had no decency at all. None. Two nights a week, sometimes three nights, the woman brought a man to spend the night with. The partners she brought were sometimes young, sometimes old. The woman changed her partners like men changed their cloth
Linden stopped laughing, gave her a lopsided glance, and struck. Chris brought her sword before it to intercept the attack. At the last second, Linden twisted his sword, and it landed on her wrist. She almost lost her grip on her sword. Still, she powered through the pain and kept her hold of it. Chris was just glad she hadn’t yelped in pain and had just winced. That would be beyond embarrassing. They exchanged dozens of blows, and with each blow, her anger spiked up a notch. Linden had thwacked her left and right—blows that would bruise. Yet, for the life of her, she couldn’t land a single hit. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t. Why should she be bruised and in pain, while the other man was grinning like a fool? She knew he wasn’t using vital technique or any form of Drogen. That would have left behind a residue that she would have undoubtedly seen, being a collector as she was. So, what was it he was doing? There had to be something. He can’t really see the future, can he? No, that w
Chris watched as the heir strode towards them. The bare-chested man walked like any heir should, back straight, one hand resting on his sword hilt as if he were assuming a sword stance. He could have made any girl’s neck turn in his direction and made their heart flutter. Not hers. Her heart fluttered for someone else. Someone next to her, no less regal than the heir himself, standing there, hand poised on his sword hilt, ready to draw at a moment’s notice. The man she suspected to be Linden’s bodyguard. Tim, was it? He could do with an earful. Holding a sword at her throat like that. When her eyes shifted back to the bodyguard, her mouth went dry. Sweat glistened along his abs. She gulped. Her knees wanted to buckle. She wanted… ‘Heavens above, what am I thinking?’ She wanted to get into good graces with the heir. Not canoodle with his bodyguard. She wouldn’t mind doing it, though. It could be warming. Gods, she had always prided herself on having great control over her thoughts.
[PRESENT TIME] Chris Scoured through the sect library searching for information on collectors. She had hoped to find some record to understand her powers. Useless, there was nothing she didn’t already know. All that knowledge in here and they were all deadwood to her. Unless she broke into the restricted section of the library, there was nothing new she could learn. That meant she would have to learn everything by experiment. The thought of experimenting with her powers sent a shiver down her spine. Playing with something she didn’t understand didn’t sound healthy to her. All her classes went well, better than well actually. She was one of the best in her class—aside from a few mishaps like that one time when she had turned into a giant; it was one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to her. What surprised her most as she navigated through her powers was the fact that her abilities were incredibly similar to that of a Dweller and, at the same time, quite differen
Chris stood next to her brother as she watched him paint on a massive canvas. The strange amalgamation of colours slowly began to gain cohesion and shape. Slowly, the paintings began to gain more shapes and details. She saw villagers washing clothes in the rivers. Children playing near them. Why couldn’t her life be so peaceful as well? Why couldn’t she be as happy as that? Children playing in the river. This was the first time her brother’s paintings had made her feel more pain than soothing her.However, she did not blame her brother for her mood. She knew something like this could happen. She had been lucky that it hadn’t happened before. And her brother had never drawn a painting with people before.When her brother finished his art. She asked him a question. “What will you call this painting, brother? I always like it when you name your paintings. It is the most enjoyable part of all this.”“I will call this one A Vain Dream.”“Why do you want to name something so beautiful? Somet
Five Years Ago. It had been about five years since her mother died. Killed was more accurate. A band of people made from Dwellers and Vampires had killed her mother. And even after five years, Chris still wept herself to sleep. She had abandoned her in her time of need. They punished the murderers of her mother for their actions. They were flogged and tortured publicly before being killed. And yet Chris still could not feel at peace for the death of her mother—like everyone told her to do. Even though they had already received their punishment. Even though they were already dead, she still hated them for taking her mother away from her. How could they do such a thing? How could they have no regard for human life? That question always haunted her. Their death wasn’t enough. Someone else deserved punishment—it was her.A part of Chris wanted to forget about her mother. So that she did not have to hurt, so that she did not have to cry so much, so that her father would not have changed