The Path of the Strongest Mortal, page 21
“For starters, I’d like to know what kind of task I’m supposed to complete.” Saying that the proposal didn’t pique his interest would be a lie, but he didn’t need his boss to know that.
“I’m not at liberty to give you the details. Such things are classified. However, I can say that you’d take a trip to enemy territory. If you agree, you’ll receive all the necessary information.”
“Then one last question. How difficult is this task?”
“Eighth rank, boy... Eighth...” Eltrix replied, finally raising his eyes from his papers.
Although everything inside him clenched as soon as he heard that, Marx didn’t let it show on his face. Eighth rank was the highest difficulty in both the department of investigations and intelligence. For example, keeping an eye on Malvur was a sixth-rank task at best.
If I complete this, it’ll open so many new doors for me... I just might be able to lead one of the military departments, which, in turn, will boost my family’s fame and rank, and help me reach at least the fifth level of the Holy Lord Stage...
“I need a few hours to think,” he finally said.
“Very well. But if you don’t give me an answer in time or refuse, you can go back to the border. I’ll count this visit as a paid day off. You’re free to go.”
Having bid his boss farewell, Marx left the office. He needed to think this offer over very carefully. Although completing a task this important would be very beneficial, it was also very dangerous.
I could die, but isn’t cultivation associated with such a risk? In less civilized worlds, people put their lives on the line for way less than what I’m being offered now. If I refuse, I might not get a chance like this ever again. Even if I manage to make Malvur the head of the Santos family and make him pledge loyalty to our kingdom, it won’t help my career as much as this task will. Still, the risk is high... But if I sit here and wait for an easier mission to come along...
***
“Glad you agreed, Marx!” Dante, the head of the intelligence department, exclaimed and patted his old friend on the shoulder. “Your skills will be very useful to us!”
“Haven’t seen you for five years. So the rumors were true. You’ve become a Holy Lord...”
“As you can see!” Dante smiled. “Did you get the details about the mission?”
“Not yet. I don’t even know who the leader is. You maybe?”
“No, it won’t be me. C’mon, let’s go. I was told that the meeting will be held in the tower. They sent me here to meet you and direct you further.”
“In the tower, you say?” Marx drawled. “Are we going to another world?”
“No. The mission’s in Nikrim but it’s a bit far,” Dante replied, grabbing his friend’s hand. “Now try not to use ki. Also, hide your aura.”
Marx did as he was told. In the next moment, a bright flash enveloped them and they were transported to the center of the elven capital, next to a tall tower made of dark stone.
These Gates of Ecumene were taken by the elves in the distant past, and have remained under their control ever since. Since the Holy Kingdom of Tael had a direct connection with other worlds, and all other races had to pay the elves a toll, it became the most powerful one on the continent.
“Let’s go. They’re waiting for us in the HQ,” Dante said and motioned Marx to follow him.
They passed by the Holy Lords that were guarding the building, who ignored them completely, and went down a hallway that eventually led them into a big room.
“Meet Giyu and his team. They’re the backbone of this operation,” Dante said, pointing at a group of seven elves.
“Is that him?” Giyu asked, looking at Dante.
“Yes, this is Marx. He agreed to help us out. His abilities will come in handy.”
“That’s good news.” Giyu nodded. “Okay, newbie. Grab a Scroll of Memories. It contains all the information about the case and your task that you’ll need to know. Study and analyze it. You have three hours. Clear?”
“Yes, sir,” Marx replied and saluted.
“That’s good.” Giyu smiled and stepped aside.
Scroll in hand, he sat down against the wall and began to study its contents. He spent the next two and a half hours memorizing all the information and pondering his mission. His role was that of support — he’d have to provide a disguise for the squad members.
“I understand that you already have the blood we need?” he asked, going up to Giyu who was standing near the Gates’ control module.
“Yes. We were told how your technique works and have prepared accordingly.” Turning around, he held out a bottle of scarlet liquid. “Will this be enough?”
“More than enough.” Marx nodded and took the bottle. Without further ado, he began to saturate the liquid with his ki and Forces.
“It’s done,” he informed Giyu after a minute and handed him the bottle. “To transform, you need to take at least a sip of the blood. But two is even better. The technique’s duration is thirty hours for Elementalists. For you, ten.”
“Got it. I have more blood, so don’t worry,” Giyu replied and took a sip without grimacing.
Following his example, the rest of the squad drank. After a couple of minutes, their bodies began to transform, until they became members of a different race. Even the inscriptions above their heads changed.
“We leave in two minutes. Get ready.”
“Hey, Dante...” Marx turned to his friend. “Mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“It depends on what kind of questions. You’re not supposed to know everything about the mission.”
“I know you can’t tell me everything. The first thing I want to know is why are we going on a difficult mission in a small group mostly consisting of Elementalists?”
“More people means a higher chance of failure. Analysts have run the numbers. Also, everyone here, including you and me, has the skills necessary for this mission. For example, Giyu is one of the best shadow masters in the kingdom. If we were all Holy Lords, he wouldn’t be able to hide all of us.”
“I see... So, why are we at the Gates?”
“Because the place we’re going to is very far away. There’s no other way to get there other than the tower. We’ll come back the same way in three weeks.”
“But won’t it be too noticeable?” Marx asked after a pause. “I mean, the spatial distortion after teleporting?”
“That’s where I step in. I’m, after all, one of the few masters of the Space element on the continent. It’s my job to keep our arrival hush-hush. You can count on me,” Dante said right before they were teleported.
***
A stench like none other they had encountered before hung in the air, forcing them to make themselves unable to smell to avoid puking.
“Where did you take us?” Marx asked Dante hoarsely.
“Patience, friend. We’re in the sewers.”
“Let’s go,” Giyu ordered, hiding the detachment with shadows. “Be quiet.”
***
Hiding like rats, the group of nine elves had been navigating the vast sewer network for almost a week, occasionally sending a couple of scouts to the surface to check their surroundings.
At the briefing, they were informed that an anomaly had appeared in the center of the enemy capital, and that its inhabitants were seized by a strange unease, the cause of which needed to be found out.
Digging deeper into the matter, they discovered that the local craftsmen had begun a large-scale construction in an attempt to create a huge portal akin to the Gates that would allow them to gain access to other worlds.
As for the reason behind the unrest among the population, the appearance of a cultivator that almost instantly achieved the title of the Seventh Son of the Empire of Niagala, beating nine competitors at once, made them fear for the balance of power in their land. The total number of the Sons was now sixteen, and all of them were the most talented cultivators of their race in Nikrim, whom the emperor personally accepted as his disciples.
As soon as the elves caught wind of this, they launched an investigation to find out more about the portal and the new Son of Niagala. In order to do this, they needed to get to the capital, so they had to leave the sewers.
Three days later, Giyu and Dante arrived in the capital where they spent several days wandering around the city, pretending to be drunks and beggars. With their auras hidden, they easily blended in with the rest of the ordinary folk.
The rest of the squad was hidden inside a pocket dimension Dante had created. As he had perfected his knowledge of the Forces of Fusion and Space there was no one, save perhaps for the emperor himself, who could feel the disturbance in the energy flows.
On the eighth day of their stay in the capital, the elves finally decided to move on from gathering information, and contacted a representative of a local criminal organization.
Under the cover of night, the two of them entered a small abandoned building on the outskirts of the city.
“Where is he?” Giyu asked, unable to sense anyone.
Dante, too, couldn’t sense anyone’s presence. Having had a look around, he noticed a strange shadow by one of the windows. Intrigued, he took several steps in that direction when he suddenly froze.
“What’s there?” Noticing Dante standing in one place and staring at nothing, he walked over to him and also froze. “Holy Heavens...” he whispered.
Smeared all over the wall were blood, guts, and brain matter, the source of which was a pile of gore on the ground. The two wouldn’t have known that this was the man they were supposed to meet were it not for the fact that no one was supposed to be here aside from the three of them.
“A piece of abstract art, isn’t it? This is what happens if you manage to teleport an object to where something else already exists. Usually, the universe doesn’t allow this, but if you know what you’re doing, you can trick even the universe...” said an unfamiliar voice.
Drawing their weapons, the duo turned sharply, ready to attack. A stranger was observing them with a grin, sitting on an armchair that hadn’t been there before.
“Who are you?!”
The uninvited guest was a tall, lean young man with long dark hair, a menacing presence, and an indifferent expression. He was dressed in a black-and-white robe covered with golden patterns. There was a matte black fan in his hands.
Crossing his legs, he tilted his head, observing the elves.
“Good evening,” he greeted. “I got bored of watching you, so I decided that it was time we finally met. Let me introduce myself... I’m Jiang Dao, the new Seventh Son of Niagala.”
Realizing that they had been discovered, the elves attacked instantly and without holding back, but their attacks, capable of razing half a city to the ground, simply disappeared, swallowed up by a black hole.
“Your attempts are... cute.”
Dante heard the voice behind him and was instantly pinned to the ground with the force of gravity alone. He had no idea when Jiang Dao moved, but he knew that the man was a Holy Lord, and that he had covered the entire building with the Spheres of Sword and Space.
His worst fear had come true.
Glancing to the right, he let out an audible gasp as his eyes widened in shock. Not that far away from him was Giyu. That is, what was left of him.
How could he kill someone so much stronger than himself in a blink of an eye?! How could he, a newly-made Holy Lord, create two Spheres at once?! What kind of monster is he, and how did he get here?! Did he come from some other world? But how? Passages from all nearby worlds are already configured to open inside our Gates! Is he from a world far away from ours? Did he somehow get here by bypassing others?
“Don’t worry,” Jiang Dao said as if reading Dante’s thoughts. “Your friend is still alive. He’s just been turned into a puzzle... He can still put himself together.”
“What do you want?” Dante asked, hoping to buy himself some time to release the others from his pocket dimension.
“Why kill the scouts if you can make them hostages? By the way, were you looking for this?” Jiang Dao asked with a smile and showed him a semi-transparent sphere.
“H-how did you get that?!” the elf cried, staring at the physical form of his pocket dimension.
“I just took your space for myself. It’s easy to do if you have the Sphere of Space and your opponent doesn’t.”
“If something happens to us, you and your empire will pay for it! Troops many times stronger than us will be sent here!” Dante hissed through clenched teeth. “Your capital will be burned to the ground, and then the rest of the city will be taken over! Your race didn’t survive in the past — it won’t survive now!”
Jiang Dao took a step forward. The cold gaze of his pitch-black eyes met Dante’s.
In the past, Jiang Dao had to gouge his eyes out to free himself from the Old Man’s control. But when he got to Nikrim and became the Seventh Son, the emperor granted him the best healers and medicine, restoring his sight.
Dante shook with unease, feeling like Jiang Dao was looking straight into his soul, exposing all his worst fears and weaknesses.
“Your threats are useless. The dice have been thrown and cards revealed,” Jiang Dao said. “The war’s approaching. And we’re ready.”
***
A crack appeared in the sky. It continued to spread as if trying to prevent whatever was attempting to break free from entering this world. But even the sky wasn’t so high and mighty. The azure shattered like glass, having lost its battle to this unknown entity.
A void gazed down upon the world, but nothing came out of it. And just as the sky began to repair itself, a figure emerged from the darkness, seemingly floating out of nothingness. At least, that’s how it appeared to those less versed in the art of cultivation. Those who knew more easily recognized the appearance of a powerful portal.
When the crack was finally mended, a tall man with long platinum hair, dressed in a dark purple robe, remained hovering in the sky. What distinguished him from the other members of the human race were his claw-adorned fingers and toes, bright red eyes, and a pair of purple horns. Not to mention that he was the only peak-level Divine Stage cultivator in all of Nikrim.
Looking down, he saw an endless desert.
“There you are,” he said to himself and raised his hand. A dark dot appeared on the horizon and plummeted toward the golden sand.
***
Failing to find An’na, Linus left Udin, leaving the matter to his agents.
He returned to his homeland — to the western coast of the continent, reachable only via the Ishar Desert. Having traversed this path many times in his life, he could’ve never assumed that something would go wrong.
“What is that?” he asked himself as his eyes settled on the obstacle that had forced him to halt — the Black Sand Pyramid.
“I’ve heard that it isn’t a myth, but I never would’ve thought that I’d see it one day,” his assistant said. “I shiver every time I recall that demon’s face. I believe that the Pyramid will disappear if we leave this place. And since we’re unlikely to find it ever again, maybe we should stay here?”
Linus continued to stare at the pyramid in silence.
“It’s blocking all of our communication artifacts,” he said after a pause. “We can’t call someone to come and take a look at it. Treading on the Black Sand is too dangerous even for me... Rare chance or not, there’s not a lot we can do. If moved, the Sand loses its properties and turns normal, so we can’t take it with us for further examination... It’s a pity, but it is what it is. Come on, we should he—”
A thick blanket of black flame enveloped him and his entourage. It turned all the artifacts into chunks of molten metal and everyone into charred corpses. Even the sand melted and crystalized.
When the dust and smoke settled, a figure descended from the sky. Its aura covered the desert like a wave, changing day to night. No sooner had its feet touched the hardened sand than a beam of scarlet energy flew in its direction.
Deflecting the beam, the newcomer looked to the right and saw the burnt and blind Linus. However, even with these injuries, the sylph seemed unwilling to give up.
“Oho, a feisty one,” the newcomer commented, grinning. “You deserve a memorable death worthy of a cultivator such as yourself. Come, let me end your suffering.”
With those words, he teleported to Linus. The clawed foot stepped on his chest, pinning him down to the crystalized sand. Grinning wider, the newcomer stretched out his right hand.
“Come to me!” he ordered.
Flickers of bright light emerged from the bodies of the dead Holy Lords whose corpses littered the desert and whose blood had stained the gold crimson. Swirling in the air, they merged into one, forming a specter. The clawed hand grabbed the ghastly head, making the spirit howl in pain.
The Divine cultivator subdued the specter’s power and managed to mold it into a shimmering purple sphere. He could’ve easily absorbed it and took the power for himself, but he chose to plunge it into Linus’ chest instead.
The sylph’s body began to shake. His skin regenerated, hair grew, and his eyes and sintered internal organs were restored. But the souls didn’t stop there.
Linus screamed madly, trying to swing his arms and legs, but he couldn’t move. The pain finally overwhelmed his mind and turned his body and soul into a demonid of the Divine Stage.
“Distract him,” the cultivator ordered, nodding toward the demon guarding the Pyramid and removed his foot from Linus’ chest. “And die in a fight worthy of someone such as yourself. May the Heavens welcome you with open arms.”
The sylph immediately rose and rushed to the Pyramid.
The two forces collided. The first blow caused the dunes to tremble and sent forth a powerful gust of wind that lifted the sand into the air. But through the golden curtain, the demon saw the figure of a man approaching the Pyramid and realized that it had been deceived.
Roaring, it spread its wings to fly over to him, but Linus immediately blocked its path.
Standing by the Pyramid, the Divine cultivator put his hand to its surface. Smoke seeped from underneath his palm, and was followed by an eruption of black flames. They enveloped the pyramid, but didn’t immediately damage it. Soon, however, the first crack appeared. It then began to grow slowly, opening a gap in the very fabric of space.
