Slave Pits of the Tyrannical God (Path of Transcendence Book 2) (11 page)

*How the hell did she do that?*
Alva's voice was filled with a mix of confusion and anger.

*I already told you, little Alva. Power lets you enforce your will on the multiverse around you. I did this, because I have Power, and I do not have self-destructive moral beliefs that keep me from using it. Now and forever, you are all my slaves.*

 

 

*** Gor'achen Citadel (Over Tallifer) - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 157

 

Aluras'bektsh'tar looked up from the reports on her desk. A robed and hooded DokkAlfar stood silently in middle of her office. She was not sure when the DokkAlfar had arrived, nor how long it had been there for.

“Third Spymaster, announce yourself, when you enter my presence.” Aluras'bektsh'tar's voice did not show any sign of her hidden irritation.

“Yes, Clan Mistress.” The Third Spymaster's voice was completely flat and emotionless. Its lack of intonation made each word sound as if it was being stated separate from the rest.

“What do you have to report?”

Aluras'bektsh'tar picked up the sheaf of papers the Third Spymaster place on the edge of desk and began to read. As she placed each page face down on her desk, the expression on her face changed, until it became a mask of venomous hatred.

“Is this accurate?”

The Third Spymaster's hooded head nodded. “The historical events are absolutely verifiable. The connections are based on my own records and understanding of the political motivations of the enumerated parties at that time.”

“Acquire a complete profile of Sinla'aveyka'tar and blueprint of the Aveyka'tar Tower. Also determine if she was acting independently or if the Citadel Lord was involved.”

“Yes, Clan Mistress.”

Dropping the last of the pages on her desk, Aluras'bektsh'tar rose from her desk and stood staring out the window of her study. At the top of the page as single name was written in a script so perfect that it could have been generated by a machine, Kalberak'fer'sha.

 

 

*** Gor'achen Citadel - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 172

 

Kra'cha'len stepped through the teleportation gate and entered a stone walled room. Behind him another teleportation gate hummed softly. Each time he came to one of the Stoics' meetings, the entry and return gates led to different locations, and several dozen were set up for each of the meetings. He knew that the complex he was in was located in a pocket dimension, but there was no easy way to locate that pocket.

Two guards flanked the door leading from this small room with the teleportation gate. Like Kra'cha'len, they were both hooded and masked. The Stoics did not reveal their identities to those outside of their own small cells. In the nearly two years that he had been a nominal member of the Stoics, he had only seen the faces of seven other members, and one of those was the Low Clan wizard that recruited him.

Walking through the door, Kra'cha'len followed a roundabout path through the twisting maze of passageways in the pocket dimension. This part of the complex where the regular member of the Stoics arrived was separated from the part of the complex where the leaders arrived. No matter where he looked, he was unable to find anything useful for identifying and controlling the Stoics.

Entering the main meeting hall, Kra'cha'len looked around at the thousands of Stoics and felt a sullen anger in his heart.
Why does the Priest-Lord insist on having me perform this task? I am not skilled at infiltration and have made no headway at all. This type of operation should be carried out by the Left Hand of Yggr.

The room is huge and trapezoidal in shape. Irregularly scattered along the walls, there are more than a dozen other entries, besides the one Kra'cha'len used. On the short side of the trapezoid, about sixty feet above the floor level, a group or cloaked and masked figures looks down on the gathering from a porticoed promenade made of stone.

“No matter our race, we are all brothers and sisters in the service of the Great Conqueror. Only together can we extend his rule to all living things!” The speaker is clearly an Alfar. Despite being hidden beneath his cloak, his obviously slender body could not possibly be human, let alone an orc.

“The decadence and depravity of the Atran'ler Empire is a disgrace to the Great Conqueror's name and purpose. Only by giving up on the endless pursuits of lust and pleasure, can our empire become strong again. If we allow the clans to continue wallowing in orgies of bloodlust, homosexuality, and bestiality, the empire will continue to decline!”

As Kra'cha'len watches the Stoics roar and cheer, he has to restrain himself from shaking his head in consternation.
The clans do as they will, because they have the Power. How can these fools not understand that Power gives one the right to do as one chooses? The very tenets of Yggr are based around those with the Power crushing those without Power beneath their fee and using the weak in any manner they see fit. Whatever the real beliefs of these Stoics, they are not true followers of Yggr or any of the Jotun Lords.

The common members around Kra'cha'len were of no interest to him, and he kept his stare on the Stoic leaders on the portico. With their bodies hidden by robes and cloaks and their patterns hidden by wards, he was unable to ascertain their identities. He was looking for any clue that could be used to find their identities, but as with every previous meeting he could find none.

 

 

*** Gor'achen Citadel - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 193

 

I slip to the side, avoiding Thrall's fist. He is not using Shadow Fist, nor is he using Power, but he is still far superior to me by any measure. Just using his base physical abilities, Thrall could destroy me without any trouble.

My return kick is a shadow that passes through space as though it not there. Even though I am not using ki, and I dare not attempt to use Od, I am moving in the shadow of the Od. Every move, whether attack or defense, embodies vicious cruelty, seeking to cause the maximum amount of pain and destruction.

Under Thrall's tutelage, I have already developed a much better understanding of martial skills, Power, and the nature of the metaverse.

Thought, it comes from the mind. Mind is part of all existence, just like body and soul. Even inanimate matter might have thoughts, but because they are too alien to us, we cannot recognize them. Thought is part of existence, but it also clouds our perceptions of the truth behind what we see as reality. Feelings come from the soul. As thoughts impede our ability to perceive the truth, feelings impede out ability to experience the truth. Breathing, it is tantamount to the expression of our physical life, but it is so much a part of the body, that it can block our ability to understand.

Our existence has three parts to it. Each part is a piece of the whole, and each part can interfere with the other parts. Only when the three aspects of the Trinity are in aligned, only when a being is true to itself can it reach its full potential.

The monk Tae Sun, who taught Talon Shadow Fist, did not understand or maybe he refused to accept the truth of Power. To attain Power you do not have to be peaceful, centered, in harmony with the world, or any other zen-like bullshit. You have to understand yourself and be true to yourself. Each being is different and each being will walk a different path to Power, even when studying the exact same art.

Earth martial arts were almost all based around a zen type of philosophy. You work to find a calm center, where you remain unaffected by your thoughts, emotions, physical condition, and the conditions imposed by the world around you.

Because of Tae Sun's misunderstanding about Power and the nature of Shadow Fist, Talon hamstrung himself, and never reached his full potential. Because I learned Shadow Fist from Talon's memories of misunderstood training, I was the same. I tried to master Shadow Fist the same way I would have trained in some kind of Earth martial art.

I should have already realized it from Smithing. Each Smith has his own Secrets of Steel, and probably every Maker has his own Secrets. A Smith's Secrets reflect the nature of the Smith. The same truth applies to martial arts. I am not peaceful or anything close to it. I am a cruel, vicious fucker, driven by hate, anger, disdain, and intolerance. With my unnatural tolerance for pain, I push myself to the point where most men would give up rather than continue.

I never needed to achieve a centered state. Zen style meditation can serve to replace sleep for me, or be used when I need to focus on something without distraction, but it was always a method that hid the truth. I needed to accept my true nature and use my meditation to hone it.

All existence comes from Life and Death, and the Od is the Power the exists between Life and Death. The metaverse exists in a constant cycle of Life and Death. Life creates and Death destroys. Death gives the energy of what has been destroyed to Life and it is used to create again.

The metaverse exists in the confluence of Life and Death, with the Elemental Powers surrounding the Amalgamate universes. The Amalgamate universes are where Earth and Taereun exist. They are the universes of the Trinity. The Trinity, both the universes and the Powers, are themselves an amalgamation of all the Elemental Powers into a single whole, but Od is still at its core. The real meaning behind the name Shadow Fist is that you learn to move in the Shadow of the Od. You do not need to use the Od to exist in its shadow, but you have to at least be acknowledged by the Od.

Though I can see Thrall's image in the line of my kick's focus, I know he has already moved. My kick hits nothing but empty air. The blades of my hands blocks the punches I can barely see, as I shift my weight while my kicking foot returns to the ground. I can perceive the attacks that are faster than my natural perception, because I am not entirely restricted by the realms of the mind and the soul. Every move is faster than my physical capabilities, because I am not entirely restricted by the realm of the body.

“Good. You are truly using Shadow Fist.”

I snort. “I should have already known how to use it, but I blinded myself.”

Thrall nods. “True. You fell into the trap that has evolved in almost all universes, where martial arts are practiced. Inner peace and harmony do not put you in tune with the metaverse. I do not know why most sentient beings fall into the same philosophical traps. They seek some greater reason for being, some grand harmonious plan, but there is none.

“The only real truth is Power, and the unending cycle of Lire and Death. Power allows for survival. Before Life and Death, there were only the Primals. Those Powers exist only to exist. They try to make everything into themselves. Life and Death exist because they chose to exist, and continue to exist because they have the Power to defy the Primals. Life and Death are in a continuous, vicious, and unending battle for survival.

“Philosophy, ethics, morality, laws, codes. They are all the creations of sentient beings trying to justify themselves. They are not the creations of Life and Death. Power is the only truth of Life and Death, and Shadow Fist is about the accumulation of Power. The Path of Transcendence is also the Path of Power. You survive or you are destroyed.”

My grin is fierce and cruel. “What's next?”

Thrall smirks slightly. “It is almost time for events to start moving again. Tomorrow, you will fight the Throd'nahk. You need to understand your level of improvement, and Elan'fer'sha needs to see that you are ready for the next stage of her plans. If you do not enter the arena, you will not encounter the people who will lead you toward your own goals. Afterwards, I will show you how to open your psi.”

Awakening Psi
*** Gor'achen Citadel - Battleground of the Damned ***
Return: Day 194

 

Elan'fer'sha enters the training hall with the Throd'nahk at her side. She is wearing her bondage leather outfit, so she is not as interesting to look at as when she milks my Power to fill the Power Crystals for the priest. Even though her tits and cunt are hanging out, I prefer seeing her completely naked. Big, small, or even almost flat like Elan'fer'sha, as long as they do not sag, tits are one of the finest parts of a woman, but as nice as they are, they are still only part of the package. Unfortunately right now, I do not have time to enjoy staring at her.

The Throd'nahk is what I need to pay attention to. The Throd'nahk is not exactly human. Well, he was born human, but now, I am certain he is something more. Even though I do not really understand the reason, I simply know that he has become something other than just human. He is probably already walking down the Path of Transcendence, but I do not think he is very far along it. He is not a monster like Thrall.

The Throd'nahk's eyes are locked onto me. He is weighing me, just like he did on that first day. I do not know why, but he seems to have been tasked with judging my worth for Elan'fer'sha.

After removing the slight smirk from his face, Thrall turns toward Elan'fer'sha. “You explained to the Throd'nahk what his purpose here is?”

Elan'fer'sha glances toward the Throd'nahk for a second. “He understands.”

“Choose any weapon you like.”

After swallowing his irritation, the Throd'nahk looks around the training hall, a puzzled expression on his face. It seems he is not familiar with this room and its nature. Schooling his expression to blankness, he looks at the swords I am holding loosely at my side. My practice swords have blunted edges, wrapped with leather. The weights are close, but I think they weigh more than the swords I brought from Earth.

Moving to a section of weapon racks with spears, the Throd'nahk takes a spear similar in size to the practice spear he was using in the arena. After bouncing the spear on his palm a couple times, he spends a few minutes walking through an elaborate spear drill.

Holding the spear point down under his armpit, the Throd'nahk returns. “This one will do.”

Thrall nods. “Do not hold back. If you do not use your Thunderbird Style, you will be crushed.”

Thrall's words visible prick the Throd'nahk's pride, and he sneers at Thrall. “You should already know that I am on the Second Path of Transcension. Do you think this one is my match?”

Thrall's grin is filled with pure condescension. “You may have been forced out of the arena for starting to Transcend, but that does not mean you are unbeatable by those who have not Transcended. Even as you are now, you are still not the equal of the Iron Fist or Talon.”

What exactly is the Second Path of Transcension? I know that the supposed gods are Transcendent beings, but I do not know much about how the process. It might mean he is in the first stage of becoming a real Transcendent, but how many stages are there?

“Half-Dvergar aren't human. Brand is only a human.”

Why does Thrall have to bring up Talon's name? At his mention of Talon, Elan'fer'sha begins to stare at me narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow. Since that first time, she has not dug into my connection with Talon, but she has obviously not forgotten about it either. Her mind wandering in that direction is the last thing I need.

“Enough with your talking shit, let's fight. Unless, you don't have the balls for it.” My tone of voice is as nasty as I can make it.

The Throd'nahk stares at me, with anger and confusion mixed on his face. He can guess that I am after something, but it is doubtful that he knows what happened between myself an Elan'fer'sha.

“Yes, let's fight.” The Throd'nahk nods slightly, before stalking onto the training floor. He holds his spear at about a third of the way from the bottom, with the point aimed toward the ceiling. As he takes a deep breath, a static charge seems to accumulate on his skin, and when he releases the breath, snake-like ropes of blue electrical energy explodes outward, wrapping his body and weapon.

I move toward the Throd'nahk and stand stop twenty yards away from him.

“Bring it on!”

The Throd'nahk frowns. “You are too arrogant.”

Before I see it, I feel the Throd'nahk begin to move, and start to move at a slight tangent to his line of attack. The Throd'nahk is fast, but my single step crosses ten yards. To those looking at my movement, I would appear to be as insubstantial as ghost, while moving. As the Throd'nahk turns to intercept me, my second step takes me behind him. With his eyes slightly widening in surprise, the Throd'nahk spins around, and a shield of blue lighting springs up between us.

Boom!

Wild electrical energy sprays out from where my sword impacts the lightning shield.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

I follow the first thrust with four more, from the same sword, and the Throd'nahk does not try to retaliate in the gaps created by withdrawing my blade for each following strike. His narrowed eyes remain focused the arm wielding the blade.

As I move to step to his right side, the Throd'nahk launches himself forward. His speed seems slower than the last time we fought, but that perception could be because of the degree my own speed has improved by.

Spinning to face me, the Throd'nahk stabs forward with his spear, even though there is more than fifteen yards between us. A huge ball of lightning flashes toward me at a speed too fast to avoid, even though I can perceive it.

Hurriedly forcing a huge amount of my ki into the practice sword, I slash through the middle of the lightning ball.

Crack-Crack-Crack! BOOM!

The lightning scatters in all directions, grounding into the stone making up the wall, ceiling, and floors of the training hall. However, not all the electrical energy is dissipated, and some of it arcs through my body. All the hair on my body stands on end, and I feel the sparking of static electricity running across my skin.

The Throd'nahk glances toward Thrall, for a second. “That collar appears to be working. I cannot feel his power, so how is he using it?”

Thrall smirks fractionally. “That collar was made by me and just appears to be working. Brand can conceal his Power, and with your awareness at the Second Circle of Coalescence, you will never be able to detect it.”

The first things that Thrall taught me were several ways to hide my Power, when I need to. I have become used to inverting my power inside so to speak, and while fighting the Throd'nahk, have been doing it out of habit. It takes probably half again as much effort as using my ki normally, but it seems that the Throd'nahk really cannot detect my Power, when I do this.

The Throd'nahk charges, and I advance to meet him. This time his spear strikes directly toward my line of movement, forcing me to block it His followup attacks use the length of his weapon to put pressure on me. Trying to move past it is a risk, and I keep deflecting the attacks. One. Two. Five. Ten. Twenty-thee.

I get an opening, as he launches an overhand thrust. With the Throd'nahk 's height, his spear is coming down at a sharp angle, and instead of moving, I put all my strength into an attack on the shaft of the spear. My attack drives the head of the spear into the floor, and shards of broken stone spray out from the impact. Stepping in, I thrust low with my left-hand blade, but the Throd'nahk spins the butt of his spear around to block. I let the spear shaft slide along my blade, until it catches against the guard. Quickly trapping the other end of the shaft with my right hand sword's guard, I lock both our weapons up in a bind.

“Don't get into a contest of strength with a bigger, stronger man.” The Throd'nahk grins nastily at me. He is a bit more than a foot taller and close to twice my mass, none of it fat.

“Are you sure your stronger?”

Crackle. Boom!

Thread-like strands of blue lighting rise up all over the Throd'nahk's body, and in an instant a peal of thunder echoes in the training hall. As the lightning is absorbed back into the Throd'nahk's body, his muscles visible swell with strength and power.

In response, I stop inverting my ki and let it flood my body, and I feel my own strength increase exponentially. However, there is no visible effect, and the Throd'nahk sneers as his mass pushes me back, while my bare feet slide over the slick stone.

Adjusting the flow of my ki, I adhere my feet to the stone, and the Throd'nahk's forward momentum is stopped cold. His muscles bunch and quiver, as he tries to force me back further, and his eyes flash in annoyance. My own muscles are standing out like heavy slabs of steel, as I resist his more than human strength.

Even if the Throd'nahk cannot force me back, it does not mean I can overpower him either. We are too closely matched in strength for there to be a clear victor. Now that I have learned about where my physical strength is in relation to the Throd'nahk, I do not want to waste more time. I step back and away from the engagement. Slipping through the Shadow of the Od, I disappear like a ghost in front of the Throd'nahk.

The Throd'nahk's strength, dexterity, and reaction speed only require him to take a couple of steps, before he dissipates his sudden burst of forward momentum. As he turns, his spear snakes out in a brutal attack aimed at my knees. His face is filled with a mix of anger and animosity. This fight is becoming personal for the Throd'nahk.

Up until now, I have been fighting in a calm, mostly defensive manner, but this is not the best way for me to fight. I know who I am. I have known the truth about myself for a long time, and now, I know the truth about Power and combat arts. I am a cruel mother fucker. I enjoy hurting people. Pain is my oldest friend, and giving is the greatest joy.

The malicious grin that settles on my face warns the Throd'nahk. He dodges my attack, as I lunge though the Shadow of the Od. I have to give it to him, that bastard has some of the best fighting instincts of anyone I have ever faced.

I step across his front, and launch more attacks from his left side, but he brings up that lightning shield again. Even though they deform the shield, my attacks do not penetrate it, but the force of the blows is still transmitted to the Throd'nahk. He is forced back step by step, as I batter his lighting shield.

With three steps, I put more than thirty yards between us. The Throd'nahk spins to stare at me, but he does not follow. Moving through the Shadow of the Od, I cover ground much faster than I have seen him move so far.

“Steel is cruelty. Steel is pain.”

I only use the pattern sight spell on my left eye, allowing me to see the real world and patterns at the same time. I already knew it, but now, I see that the Throd'nahk's martial style is based on mana. It almost looks like he has spell patterns imprinted in his body, but I do not think that is what he has done. He must somehow be maintaining the spell patterns with his combat style.

“My heart is steel. Steel is the blood and bone of the Smith. While the flame of my soul burns, the steel of my sword will never break and never dull.”

A faint silver aura shimmers around my swords.

“The hammer falls, shaping the steel. The steel remembers the force. The steel releases the force.”

Threads of dark grey mix in with the silver aura.

I charge the Throd'nahk my lunging steps closing the distance in just two strides.

Bang! Bang!

The Throd'nahk blocks my thrusts, but with just deflecting those attacks, the force from the impacts drives him back one step for each attack. Jumping back, he brings up the lighting shield again, which is just what I wanted him to do. I am already following him before his feet touch the ground again.

Crackle! BOOM!

Delivered with all the force my body can generate, my thrust pierces the lightning shield. More electrical energy than the lighting ball contained spatters all around us. The Throd'nahk seems unaffected by the discharge, but it leaves me with a tingling feeling throughout my entire body.

Shock evident on his face, the Throd'nahk leaps more than fifteen feet into the air. Made of electrical energy, a huge pair of raptor wings spread out from his back. With the flapping of those electric wings, he gains more altitude, before hovering around forty feet above the floor.

Martial styles that have the ability to grant flight are rare, to the point of being legendary. Even after all my years playing Taereun: Battleground of the Damned and fighting through The Great Fuck Over, this is only the third one I have personally encountered. Most styles that have an affinity with air or flying creatures only give the ability to glide at the most, similar to what Perzey was able to do near the time of her death.

The Throd'nahk begins to generate a ball of lighting on the tip of his spear. As he launches it toward me, I move a dozen yards to the side in a single step, and the electricity grounds out harmlessly, where I was standing.

With the size of the training hall, the Throd'nahk has more than enough room, as he begins to circle above my reach. Using the safety provided by his height, he fires a number of lightning balls at me, while trying to predict my movement, but they all miss.

Glancing at Thrall, I see him stare back at me with a faintly amused expression. That bastard seems to be enjoying the show, so I will give him something to really enjoy.

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