95. New Horizons (I) (Patreon)

Kaya felt weirdly good tonight, considering she’d been bawling just hours before. But now she couldn’t stop grinning. The world seemed twice as bright, chock-full of life. She thrummed with spirit. She was so light she could’ve been floating.

She wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe she was feeling pumped-up after her chat with the Tribesmen. Or maybe it was the two doses of boosting formula she’d taken. As she sat down to meditate that day, the energies of Heaven and Earth treated her like a favored daughter. Before, they’d cycled in a trickle; now a steady stream gushed into her, warming her meridians.

For the first time in a very long time, life was treating her right. About time, too! Heavens knew she’d had her fair share of garbage the past few weeks…

Then her palm spiked with white-hot pain, like she’d been stung by a fat-tailed scorpion.

“Ack!”

Hissing, she flung out her hand and a golden blur whipped into the sands. It was the Jez token! Had it bit her? It glowered like molten metal, half-sunk.

Frowning at it, she went up to it and sent her big toe to investigate. Poke poke. She half-expected to get shocked again, but nope. The thing was warm to the touch, but that was all. Huh.

She bent down and picked it back up, nibbling nervously at her lip.

She squinted at it, turning it all the way around. She squeezed it. She gave it a lick for good measure. Nope. Nothing weird here.

Maybe she’d just imagined it. Or maybe a little bug had bit her, then darted away when she wasn’t looking. Whatever. She wasn’t about to let one little thing ruin her first good evening in forever!

Huffing, she stomped back, sat back down, and started meditating again. She’d break through mid-Vigor today if it was the last thing she did!

***

Aww. Kaya was so deep in meditation by the time Dorian returned that qi was rising off her body like steam. Her eyes were scrunched shut, her lips pressed tight together. It seemed she was nearing a breakthrough. Good for her.

Dorian had a soft spot for creatures like her. Creatures who tried so very hard but would never amount to anything of the slightest importance. There was something delightful in the futility of her struggle. If she was honest with herself, she would’ve abandoned all hope long ago. But the stubborn girl simply wouldn’t give up.

There would come a point, and he suspected very soon, when a reckoning would come, when she’d be brought face-to-face with her limits for the last time. It would be deliciously brutal. She would know what true despair meant then. It was a matter of time; maybe it’d happen in the Tournament. He intended to have a front-row seat to it.

She’d make for some good entertainment for the rest of his stint at the Oasis, but this was likely the end of the road for her, to his chagrin. She was still useful as a trusted lackey, but there was a point at which the power differential became too vast to bridge. He could hardly carry her in his pocket as he went up the planes. Nor could he waste resources dragging her along with him.

I hope to make our last few months together a delight, dear sister. He tapped his lips, smiling. Though it might be more fun for me than it is for you, I’m sorry to say…

For now, he’d leave her to her struggles. He had his own breakthrough to make. He went around the room, thumbing a few extra Interspatial Rings, snatching out all the elixirs he’d brewed in the past month, all the rare herbs and cores he’d stockpiled. Three Hearts’ Pill, Draught of the Sun God, Ten Thousand Year Old Ginseng…

He would devote tonight and tomorrow to breaking through to the Profound Realm and stabilizing his Spirit Sea.

This was a delicate stage; while Origin and Vigor were the two foundational Realms, Profound was a bridge between mortals and Gods. There was a reason this stage was known in the Higher Planes as a the true starting point of cultivation. It was the point at which a cultivator ceased borrowing power from the Multiverse. The Origin realm opened the veins. The Vigor realm built the body. Now it was time to harness the boundless qi of the Multiverse and make it his own. To create his own Spirit Sea.

The difference between a Technique done with borrowed qi and a Technique done with one’s Spirit Sea was heaven-and-earth. And the grade of the Spirit Sea was immutable once it was established. He had one chance to get this right.

If he had to guess, nearly every Profound cultivator in the Oasis had only a Mortal-Grade Spirit Sea. Only those with the highest-grade Techniques or exceptional Bloodlines had a chance at Heaven-Grade. He licked his lips, eyes glowing red in the dim firelight. If I do manage it, I should be nearly invincible in this Oasis. Only those who’ve touched a Dao would be able to threaten me.

It was time to begin.

***

Kaya woke up high off the night before. She hadn’t recalled falling asleep. How had she managed to sleep, with all this feel-good rush burning up her skin? She leapt out from under her blanket, stretched, yawned out the last of her drowsiness, and pumped her fist. She grinned wildly. Yes! This was her day. Again. No more wallowing! From now on, every day was a Kaya day! She was so hyped-up she felt like she could run from here all the way to the Southern forests in one breath.

She glanced over to Io’s sheets, which were empty. He’d left a note on the squat little table, alongside a plate of cut fruit and—were those oysters?!

Fifteen minutes later, she finished licking the oyster bowl clean, then licked its last juices off her fingertips. It might’ve been the best thing she’d ever eaten. She nearly cried as she tasted it, which was a little mortifying, but it was really darned good, alright?

Fingers properly cleaned, she read Io’s note.

I’ve left to break through to the Profound Realm. I’ll be back by dusk.

In the meantime, we’re running low on Spirit Wood and Lingzhi Mushrooms. I’ll need these to brew a medicinal broth to solidify my foundation. Kindly fetch them at the market for me.

Make sure to wear the heavy robes and a mask! Do not engage in any confrontations.  Don’t make trouble. Be safe!

That last phrase was circled three times.

“You got it, dear brother!” Kaya would get those things better than any things had ever been gotten before! She was buzzing with life; joy soaked her from head-to-toe. The world was hers to conquer. For a few scary weeks there, she’d been so sad she felt like she could scarcely breathe. Was she rebounding to how she used to feel? Was this what normal felt like?

Hmm. Somehow this felt a stretch beyond normal. In that moment she could’ve stared down a Frost Dragon. Maybe her mood was like rubber, snapping back beyond its original shape. Whatever! She was too happy to question it.

She threw on her robes, tightened the drawstrings and the belt, then tied a mask around her head. Only her eyes peered out from this weird, suffocating contraption, but it didn’t get her down in the slightest. She scooped up Jez’s token and stuffed it into an inner pocket. Keeping it with her somehow made her feel safe, like she was being watched over, which was silly, but it made her feel good, so who cares! She practically danced out the tent flaps.

***

Not even the stink of the Outskirts could quench her joy. But as she drew closer to the market proper, she had to admit that stench did dampen things. She kept herself hunched over, one faceless Outskirter among many. Here, she was no-one. The street was a rectum which spat out deformed humans. It made her skin crawl. I’ll be quick. In-and-out. No fuss!

She was tensed, primed to give a hard pummeling to anyone who tried her. But it seemed her disguise held up. No unwanted hands grabbed at her. No eyes lingered. She felt strangely safe in her thick outfit.

No-one accosted her as she went up to the woodsman’s stall and asked for three blocks of Spirit Wood. No-one slapped her as she procured Lingzhi mushrooms from an oily-skinned herbalist. There were the occasional gang members—she spotted two scarred men in Mischief garb on patrol—but all-in-all, things went surprisingly smoothly.

Maybe today followed yesterday’s trend? Maybe the world decided it was time to be nicer to Kaya Rust. She was hopeful.

It smelled awful here, and looked awful too, but maybe she didn’t need to be so mean about it. Everywhere she looked she saw poor souls shuffling about in those thick black robes, carrying on. The shopkeeps, huddled behind tattered stalls and guardsmen, even the gang members, were making do as best they could. A fog of hopelessness hung over it all.

She was struck by a bittersweet pang. Maybe everyone deserved a little kindness. Maybe everyone had their own unique flavor of hurt. Under those wrinkled, dirt-stained faces, she saw fear, and weariness, and pain. Maybe these weren’t deformed after all. Maybe they were simply beat-up folks trying their best, despite it all. Wasn’t she the same way?

She felt herself relax. What a weird mood I’m in….maybe this place wasn’t so awful after all. And she felt a rush of kind warmth toward these folk, a feeling like hope.

Then—“What’s a girlie as pretty as you doing out here on your lonesome?” said a man’s voice in a mocking growl. She froze.

It felt like she’d been drenched in ice-cold water. Her mouth went dry. Suddenly she didn't feel so good anymore; not at all. Every hair on her body seemed to stand up at once. She recognized that voice. She couldn’t forget it if she tried.

She turned around slowly, her whole body tensed.

It’s him! That fat greasy face, sagging with a double-chin, those blackened teeth, those beady dark eyes. His huge body and his his hairy, wrinkled claws for hands. They called him Longfoot. She remembered those hands crushing over hers, forcing her to her knees. Her heart was clenched like a fist in her chest.

What the hells? Is he always hanging around the markets, looking for girls to prey on?!

Then Kaya realized the man wasn’t looking at her. Guilty relief washed over her.

Until she saw who the man's true target.

She gasped. No….you horrible wyrm!

He was eyeing a girl. Not a woman; a bewildered little girl in Zhaopai Tribe silks. A dainty, pretty little thing. Her hair was bound up in two buns and her eyes were wide and watery. She couldn’t be more than ten years old.

She must’ve wandered here on accident. She was sniveling, backing slowly away from the man, and Kaya saw in her face an awfully familiar feeling.

Kaya had felt that same naked fear not two days ago. It had her waking up in night-sweats, gasping. It still hadn’t left her. Now she felt it slithering down her bones, rooting her to the spot. Two men in Mischief leathers were circling in behind the girl, cutting off her exit. Both had lewd grins on their faces.

Her blood pulsed, molten in her veins. Her heartbeats thundered in her ears.

“Please, mister,” the girl squeaked. “Do y-you know where m-my daddy is? Sir?”

“I’m afraid not,” laughed Longboat, rounding on her. “Don’t worry, girlie. I’ll be your daddy. How does that sound?”

“No!” cried the girl, whirling around wildly. “I want my real daddy…” She clung to herself, and Kaya felt her heart breaking.

Kaya’s nails bit into the palms of her hands, drawing blood. She took a step forward—

—and those old memories rose up like vomit, locking her where she stood, drowning her.

The rat’s fingers like steel bands against her neck. Her hands and arms failing, an overwhelming, choking force blasting her, twisting her, wrenching her to the ground… her heart was stammering so fast she felt ever red-hot pulse of blood. She was trembling, choking on the air. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it! She screamed at her limbs to move, to rise, to do something, but her whole body was shaking so hard she might collapse.

Dimly, she knew this was a fight she couldn’t win. She might even make it worse by trying. If Io were hear he’d be yanking her back, telling her to pick her battles. Maybe that was the smart thing to do.

No. She shook her head. She couldn’t believe it. She strained against herself with all her dumb heart. It’s not fair…

She saw Longfoot put a hand on the girl. She saw the girl scream.

Then something peculiar happened. A familiar sting lanced through her.

There was a trickle of warmth, up from her ribs, thawing her. Then it widened, flushing into a stream, coursing through her, a torrent, a tide, heart-pumping, blood-boiling flood. It crashed straight through her fear, breaking its hold on her. She felt good, full of sudden vigor. What the hells was she thinking?! So what if these goons had gotten the best of her once? She had to try again—she had to, damn the consequences! What the hells was she anymore, if she was too scared to do what’s right? She snarled, baring her teeth. 

She’d whirled around before she knew what she was doing. She ate up the distance in four leaping strides, and it felt like sunlight, not blood, ran through her veins.

Longfoot hardly had time to face her before she drove four hard knuckles through his fat, ugly, smooshed-up double-chinned face.