Chapter 315: Cleaning Job (Patreon)

Chapter 315: Cleaning Job

“Hey Gun-Byeong?” Mercury asked.

“Hrm?” The gruff man looked tilted his head upwards. He’d been doing handstand push-ups with only one pinkie touching the ground while wearing specialized vests that weighed about as much as a small city. His muscles were drenched in sweat.

“We’re going hunting for some righteous dummies using crappy techniques, you in?”

Gun-Byeong paused for a moment. He laughed, pushed himself off the ground, and landed on his feet. With a casual motion, he tossed the vest aside, where it cratered the ground. “Why yes,” the peak master of Slaughter said happily, “I’m in.”

- - - 

None of the other peak masters wanted to come along, which Mercury thought was fair. Keiko was too busy, Shiro and Kuro were too busy bickering, Kang was doing experiments, Ji BaiYun had evidently gone into seclusion, and Su ShouFan actually had a job to do and mouths to feed. Which left Gun-Byeong and Pali, and Mercury was really only comfortable bringing one vaguely insane weapon of mass-destruction with him.

The Pristine Jade Sect, as their name implied, sat on a mountain peak that was partially carved with… pristine jade. The famous jewel was carved into paths, houses, and fences, as though it was easy to transmute something else into.

Mercury tilted his head at that. They sure had a lot of the material, and seemed rather happy to squander it. Then again, it was a gemstone whose biggest value was ornamentation. Pristine Jade was a raw resource, much like iron, and to make it useful for alchemical preservation boxes or similar, it needed quite a lot of treatment. In a way, this was just extravagant resource storage. And a bit of showing off their source of wealth. 

The Pristine Jade Sect also didn’t allow outside visitors in. This was something Mercury learned when the gate guards tried to stop him. A moment later, the shadows underneath their feet rose up and swallowed them whole. Mercury only had time to blink before Juno’s head rose from the darkness with a smile on her maw.

“They were delicious-”

“You did not eat them, dummy, just spit ‘em back out.” Mercury rolled his eyes at the wolf’s antics. He could sneak in, but in a way, leaving no witnesses was stealth, right? 

Plus, this was sure to annoy Jeringr at least a little, so he didn’t mind. Juno politely and respectfully deposited the guards in an inn they’d rented for that purpose beforehand, placing them on wooden floors. The worst thing that might happen to them is a migraine and some splinters, which Mercury considered acceptable.

Then, he turned to Zyl and Gun-Byeong. “Please, no killing,” he reminded the Beast of Slaughter.

With a laugh, the man smashed his fists together, creating a minor sonic boom, rustling leaves and sending jade windchimes singing. “No promises.”

Zyl soon smacked him over the head, to which Gun-Byeong flinched, rubbed the impact spot, and frowned. “Fine, okay, yes, one promise of no-murder. Unless it’s someone like… really fucked up?”

Rolling his eyes, Mercury let the addendum go. Instead of arguing, he decided to leave this problem to his lovely boyfriend, who would surely handle this battle-maniac rather well. Mercury, for his part, slipped into his <Veil>, waiting for half a breath as power began to pour off the dragon and the man.

The two of them slowly rose into the air, riding currents of qi. Gun-Byeong radiated more of the mythical substance than Zyl, but the dragon’s heartbeat was plenty potent to intimidate anyone. Heat rolled off him in waves, hot enough to turn the pristine jade pliable and soft.

Mercury watched in hiding as the mountain slowly began to buzz with activity. Like a kicked hornet’s nest, disciples and deacons rose from their activities, running down the mountain. It worked like clockwork. The youngest of them drew their weapons, the cleverest signalled for backup. A massive gong rang, the sound travelling the entire mountain.

“Cultist attack!” someone cried.

And then, the elders swarmed down. Zyl and Gun-Byeong still just hovered there, but with the first handful cultivators at the Gilded-Realm coming for them, the fighting finally started. The elders rose to the sky on flying swords, balancing elegant, their pristine, pastel robes billowing in the wind just as their fancy beards and braided hairdos did.

There was a long conversation that Mercury tuned out, and instead headed deeper into the sect grounds. It was a little like swimming against the tide - except that the tide broke against him. With <Veil> active, people simply filtered him out. They’d part the way subconsciously.

His crown had also absorbed <Itinerant>, boosting the Skill’s passive effects to new heights. With a small smile, Mercury watched people slide aside as he walked effortlessly up the path. Once or twice, someone’s senses brushed over him, catching glimpses of fur or intent, but he was gone as soon as they noticed.

These days, he was slippery. <Veil> wasn’t quite as high-tiered as some of his other Skills, but it synergized well with his strongest affinities, so it was empowered by that. Just his existence itself was something he could hide, blending it in with the background song of the world in a display of re’zil. 

Dancing through the crowd was almost like a little game. How far would he make it before getting spotted, he wondered?

Behind him, the explosions were steadily growing louder and more frequent. He heard yells as elders proclaimed their attacks and techniques. The cultivators swarmed the Beast of Slaughter and the guardian dragon. It was almost funny to see them throw bodies at the sky.

But he simply walked forward. Snuck past the disciples that couldn’t fly. They wore accessories and tools, some of them even only wore their under-layer of robes. Which was highly amusing, since it was their equivalent of pyjamas. 

It was amusing to imagine it as the young ones coming out to catch a glimpse of the elders, hoping for a decent shot at comprehending a deeper insight into a technique. The martial world waits for no one, and sometimes, it doesn’t wait for clothing adequate to the given situation. Really, no one should have been outside without battle-robes, and yet, there they were.

Swords held in hand, rather than strapped to their wastes. Archers who left the quiver at home. Idiot kids doing their best out there.

And about a fifth of them looked wiry and pale.

Mercury could recognize who was practicing the life-shortening technique at a glance. He could smell it on them. See their hopeful eyes raised to the sky, looking just a little more dim. They had pallid skin, bloodshot eyes, and smelled of rot.

It was a self-cannibalizing technique, after all. It consumed muscle mass and blood in order to provide qi and strengthening. Young people quite literally tearing themselves apart for higher realms. But they weren’t the only ones.

Walking deeper into the sect, an elder flew above Mercury. An emaciated, grey-skinned woman, whose flesh clung so tight to her skeleton he could see it through her skin. She was starved, and rocketed across the sky with unparalleled might. She crashed into Zyl with the force of a small meteorite - something that the dragon shrugged off, but that also outmatched many of the other elders.

The dragon soon grabbed her thin wrist and threw her with all the consideration he’d give a crumpled up piece of paper. But Mercury still knew what she was doing. Consuming her lifespan to desperately race for even one realm higher, to hopefully get a little stronger.

Striving for immortality, defying the heavens, that was the way of cultivation. Why drain your own lifespan to advance? In the vain hope that a higher peak might mean immortality? It was tossing away a good life. 

These people were desperate, and handed a measure to fit their desperation. He found it distasteful. So, he walked deeper, drawing his <Veil> tighter. A minute passed, and he entered the sect grounds proper. Houses surrounded him, many decorated in extravagant jade. 

He had reached the courtyard for the inner disciples. Formations covered each entrance, but while Mercury wasn’t yet a masterful enchanter, he was rather decent at them. All he did was read them, which his crown’s passives made easy, and then break their most important node. 

With the formations disabled, he strode into the courtyard unperturbed. It was empty, the sands of the training plaza in disarray from a thousand boots stomping over it. And despite that, he felt the deep, thrumming aura of wealth.

It was an established sect, after all. They probably had a spirit sprint, maybe even a godvein. Zyl and Gun-Byeong wreaked havoc outside, and one by one, more formations roared into effect. Barriers, and long-since charged attacks shot outwards, lighting up the sky. All of those effects couldn’t compare to what Mercury already felt.

Deep, deep underneath the sect, he felt its ancestral grounds. Jade-lined coffins with preservation formations, keeping old monsters at the end of their life in stasis in case of terrible attacks. It was the ultimate contingency of sects, their version of a nuclear deterrant.

And he was sure that someone, down there, was already awake.

An old monster’s aura brushed against his. Mercury breathed in, then out. There was a spark of electricity as foreign qi buzzed against his own. A deep, roiling wave of a scan poured upwards from deep underneath. Mercury drew his <Veil> tight. He hid himself as best as he could- almost as best as he could.

[<Veil> has levelled up!  <Veil lv. 8 -> 9>]

If he really wanted to hide, he’d have slipped into the void. But that was unnecessary. He didn’t mind being spotted. It was only really a matter of time. This was not a full stealth mission. 

Plus, Zyl and Gun-Byeong were absolutely going to activate the “nuclear deterrent", so to speak. It was only a time until old fossils started to swarm outwards. One earlier or later didn’t matter.

So, when catastrophic, earth-shattering power gathered underneath Mercury’s feet, he just waited it out. Until the floor turned spongy and liquid, his paws sinking like they were on quicksand. The roiling power compressed against the ground like building pressure, and then erupted upwards in a needle-point.

An old man dug through the earth, his white beard so long it twirled around him like a ribbon as he pirouetted up through the softened ground. He laughed, boisterously. “Bahahaha! So, an intruder sneaks in when we are under duress, eh?! A spirit beast who is also a bandit! You are courting death, young scamp! Getting caught in my Sickening Sands technique will teach you!”

Mercury took a very calm step, dragging his paw from the quicksand as the solid rock broke around it. He placed it on his rijn, a platform of solid will supporting his own weight. Instantly, the old man’s face fell.

His eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth crinkled into a frown. “You are not as cheap as it seems,” he said. “Golden-Core? Your realm is impressive.”

“Silver-Core, actually,” Mercury replied with a smile. “Gold was never quite my style.”

“A variant realm… you must possess some specialized innate physique, beast. Is it-”

“I’ll happily talk, but if you call me a beast one more time, I’ll rip your head off,” Mercury interrupted. “My physique is based upon my acquired Skills before I began cultivation. I stem from the west.”

The old man’s eyes widened, and his guard rose. “A sorcerer!” he gasped. “Your kind are known for strange, sinister powers. Yours are silver, then, fiend?!”

Briefly, Mercury wondered if “fiend” was better than “beast”. He decided it didn’t matter all that much. With a soft sigh, he raised his remaining legs from the earth. The old man’s battle-readiness intensified at that. Killing intent poured off of him.

Compared to the old monster, Mercury was downright merciful. He had a simple question. “Did you know your disciples are using a technique that drains their lifespan to advance?” he asked. <Answer> pulled the reply from the old man, though it didn’t have to work very hard.

After all, Mercury could hear the elder’s heart skip a beat. “What?! A demonic technique, in the sect? How?”

Mercury smiled. That was an adequate reaction, he thought. It should be shocking and horrible to hear. Was this an elder, or the sect leader, he wondered? Probably the former. Perhaps the grand elder, he thought. That made sense given the man’s cultivation realm.

Amusingly, Mercury had progressed further along the Silver-Core realm than this man had, even in his decades. The grand elder had barely just reached it, and Mercury was in the solid mid-range for the realm, based purely on cultivation. His qi reserves were massive, especially since he could readily fuse origin qi.

It was a skewed battle, and the mopaaw had already won it before it started. Even as the elder’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke thin words to deny the accusation, the old man knew it was true. Mercury had possessed <Truth> not too long ago, and its effects still lingered. If he proclaimed something true, it was obvious as the light of day.

So, when informed of the irregularities, the grand elder didn’t particularly fight them. There was token resistance, sure, a dozen techniques exchanged in a way that Mercury regenerated from within a handful of seconds. He could have unmade them, but didn’t.

His qi simply stayed within his body, being used to reinforce and protect. The grand elder panted after bringing the entire sect grounds down on the mopaaw - a somewhat token effort for him. Then, the old monster gritted his teeth and looked at the sky. 

“Fiend,” he said, and it was with politeness that the world left his mouth, “why are you here?”

A question he already knew the answer to. “I’ll take away the lifespan-reducing technique from your sect. It has not been handled responsibly.”

The old monster laughed. “Bahaha! So it is. All is fair under heaven’s will. Fine, then, plunder our vaults. Rob them, if you must. I’ll be off to protect our sect,” he said, lifting higher up. “You’re a merciful monster. See to it that you stay that way.”

Then he was off, and Mercury nodded, just once. A merciful monster, huh? He could live with that, he supposed. He’d certainly been called more unkind things.

With the way free, Mercury walked into the core sect grounds.

- - -

“It’s the sect leader!” 

The gasps that followed that simple statement reached Zyl from deep below him. It was the disciples that pointed and stared and cheered at a figure rising into the sky. An old woman, her robes elegant and embroidered, her hair decorated with many pieces of shiny jade, half of them holding formations or transformation spells.

Zyl looked at her once, gauging her strength. Strong. Mid Golden-Core, he imagined. Weaker than Gun-Byeong, though the Slaughterer was holding back. He smiled, first thinly, then a monstrous snarl. “You!” the sect leader roared at the cultist, whose snarl turned smug.

“Me!” he roared, charging at her with a brutal slam. The two clashed in a ball of fire and kinetic blasts. Spears of jade burnt as they streaked through the sky like asteroids. Two elders, and the grand elder Mercury had just fought off, set upon Zyl at once in a staggering display of coordination and hand-to-hand, but their stats simply weren’t up to snuff.

Sure, they had body reinforcement and the basics down. Their cultivation and levels made them superhumanly strong and fast. But he was, simply put, stronger and faster. His draconic spark pulsed in his chest, a bonfire roaring through his limbs. Effortlessly, he spun and twisted through the blows, turning them aside and at each other.

Where their cooperation was perfect, he introduced friction. Made fists land on fists as he kept his own moves harmless. It was an almost serene dance, where he politely played the monster. A spirit beast ensnaring them with fire.

His claws lashed out, lacerating robes and skin, leaving thin marks that burnt at the edges. The pain must have been great - but they’d heal cleanly. Zyl hummed to himself, a noise that came out as a monstrous growl. “Come at me, then!” he roared with a grin, his blood singing higher.

Battle was something he mentally abhorred. But it was also something he took to as naturally as air. He swam through the motions, brutality begetting brutality. He held back, but flesh was still torn, and bones were broken. 

It was a slew of violence that filled the air with the smell of burnt flesh and iron. He laughed when the elders failed to wound his skin, and when the sect leader had her bones broken by Gun-Byeong, he just watched. It wasn’t pretty, but they were cultivators. 

With meditation Skills that made the pain easier to endure, and enough regeneration capacity that- 

Yep, there she went. The sect leader popped a healing pill, and snapped back to whole within moments. Zyl shook his head, readying his claws for another exchange when the air charged with yet more power.

He tilted his head, then looked upwards, at a singular figure rising above the rest. How curious. 

“Ancestor?” the sect leader breathed.

- - - 

Mercury felt the change wash over him. And old, ancient pressure that roiled up into the sky. And he could feel the difference there, too. That old man, an ancient monster, a nuclear deterrent, looked young. Downright healthy.

He even had black hair, and a well-trimmed beard. No older than fifty, Mercury would even estimate him at around fourty. Compared to the pallid skin of everyone around… 

And then, there was the fact that he awoke so easily! Ancestors were usually sealed away in jade coffins with stasis magic. Only to be activated for emergencies. And this man was prancing around like a spry spring chicken? Mercury smelled foul play.

In fact, he’d be willing to bet like two legs that this old man was the person who distributed those dang manuals. Sighing softly at the secret he’d so easily found, Mercury shrugged. It was fine. Now he had the source. Around the old man, more ancient powerhouses rose from the ground, looking adequately old and drained. He directed them forward with a hand sign.

Then, the middle-aged looking ancestor slowly sank to the ground, his enormous spiritual pressure falling upon Mercury like a collapsing building. It was a novel experience, really. Mercury was reasonably sure the old man was at Bladesoul, or whatever variant of it he had. Peak Bladesoul, even, fed by the sacrifices of his subordinates.

Which was, the mopaaw found, pretty fucking pathetic. Mercury shrugged off the pressure with a bit of willpower, sorcery, and a good helping of <Origin Qi>. His power was tightly bound to his body, down to his bones, and the old man’s didn’t reach further than his skin.

Not that the ancestor seemed to notice. The man just kept ramping up the power, increasing the drain on the disciples, making a handful of them cough blood. The pressure on Mercury ramped up, and the old man smirked, feeling in control.

“What’s this?” he asked, condescension dripping from every word. “A little rat sneaking into our compound? What are you here for, little beast? Why should I not tear you apart where you stand?”

Unfortunately for him, Mercury was fresh out of patience. So, the mopaaw smiled politely, dipped his head in a simple gesture of apology, and then asked a question. “Where are you hiding the demonic manual?”

“It’s in the second layer of the archives, in a hidden shelf among karmic cultivation methods.” 

<Answer> had pulled the info out of the old man before he even registered it. His hand slammed onto his mouth, disbelieving of what he’d just said. Instantly, he wanted to go to violence, but Mercury wasn’t quite done yet.

The mopaaw spoke before the old man could slam into him, a <Distant Transmission> of thought wrapped in qi. It demanded an <Answer> all the same. “Where did you get it from?”

“I took it off a rogue cultivator I fought on my travels. He shared his art for me to spare his life. He’s most likely still out there somewhere, spreading the manual,” the old man explained. Then, a vein on his forehead pulsed from anger. He clenched his fists, powerless but to give Mercury the info. “You dare?! What manner of technique is this, fiend?!”

Mercury rolled his eyes. “Hypocritical much? The demonic life-absorber asks me what my technique is…” The rest of his words didn’t matter. The ancestor flew at him in a storm of rage and greed, to preserve his secret and his life, and ideally sacrifice a thousand more juniors just to live another decade or three. 

It was pathetic. 

The man launched at the mopaaw, aiming to crush his skull. He used earth-based techniques, the ground rolling up and hardening to consume Mercury. At the same time, his head was assaulted by a psychic lance, driving shivers of pain and paralysis up his spine, and he felt the heavy pressure on him fill with blade-intent.

Within seconds, the ground itself became sharp and crushing enough to tear his body limb from limb. Intent-filled attacks were scary, he found. Mercury, though, had his own way of transmitting intent.

<Rainfall> came down around him. A tidal wave of rock, enhanced by a centuries-old mind that had sharpened his Skills with ferocious, single-minded dedication, soaked in a powerful intent came down on Mercury. Then it was brushed aside like scattering desert sand in a single gust of wind.

[<Weapon Intent> has levelled up! <Weapon Intent lv. 1 -> 2>]

Mercury watched the man’s face go from a confident sneer to open-mouthed shock in moments. He tossed buildings at Mercury, and they dissolved into sand and slate, sinking into the ground. <Magic> rippled outwards, fighting a contest for who this world belonged to.

The winner of that contest was decided in moments. The rocks loved Mercury. They gravitated towards his command within seconds, and the crushing tidal wave returned to a smooth surface. The entire inner courtyard returned to soft sand, dozens of buildings, hundreds of jade decorations turning into nothing more than tiles and grout.

For a moment, the old man blinked. Mercury waved a paw, and triggered <Carve> with the motion.

[<Carve> has levelled up! <Carve lv. 1 -> 2>]

Fuelled by qi, and enhanced by his intent, the blow crashed into his target the moment he even decided to make the attack. The old man’s chest split open like wood in front of a hatchet, fibres and bone cleaving apart as they were wedged from each other. 

It was a somewhat spectacular sight, the way that the man’s cells split in a neat wedge-shape, ripping themselves apart. For a moment, he stood, trying to shove his guts back into his body. He was strong and resilient. This blow wouldn’t kill him. Shouldn’t kill him.

Normally, it wouldn’t even have harmed him, really. But Mercury had seen through him. In the dozen seconds that their conversation took, Mercury had fired a <Distant Transmission> at the man. He had pierced past all of his natural and artificial barriers, analysed the resonance of his qi and willpower, and thusly <Unravelled> all his shields.

In front of Mercury, the old monster was made mortal. Centuries of cultivation, reduced to their base human standards within precisely twelve seconds. The old man looked on, surprised, and then fell backwards as his wounds didn’t heal.

A second <Carve> took his head from his shoulders. Mercury strolled over, placed a paw on the man’s forehead, and then, in one swift bit of consumption, he ate the man’s memories. It wasn’t like he read them, no, he didn’t fully grasp all their contents. Frankly, he didn’t want to. There were dozens of atrocities that went right to his stomach.

He did steal the old man’s insights into Bladesoul cultivation, jade coffins, and earth-based techniques… There were a few valuable nuggets there. He even grasped some amount of intentionality behind karmic bonds. The main thing he remembered, though, was the description of a rogue cultivator. That was important.

Because another five minutes later, Mercury had eaten the contents of a certain book, removing them from all pages within the sect grounds, then set it on fire as a treat on top of that. He also lit the corpse on fire, then strolled out, cloaked in his <Veil>. 

Another bit of thought wrapped in qi shot out from him. “C’mon Zyl, Gun-Byeong. We have a rogue cultivator to hunt down.”

Already, his <Tapestry> had found a connection.