Chapter Title: The Grotto

  The lavender sky of the internal realm was obscured by a thick golden smog of war-Qi. Three billion souls were in motion, their collective will vibrating against the foundations of Jian’s soul-sanctum. The siege of Radiant-Grave had evolved into a total conflict of laws. The Iron-Ash Legion, reinforced by the awakened power of the heirs, systematically deconstructed the city’s outer wards.

  Jian bypassed the high command tent. He flickered across the battlefield as a vertical slit of absolute dark that soldiers instinctively avoided. He appeared in the center of the secondary command post where the four Queens oversaw the logistical suppression of the city’s mages.

  Zelari was screaming orders at goblin scouts. Her voice carried the rasp of a woman who had spent thirty years preparing for this specific bloodletting. Saphra sat nearby, surrounded by vats of Aura-Lead and bubbling cauldrons of Meridian-Lock poison. Valen and Kaia coordinated heavy artillery with eyes fixed on the white-gold spires.

  "You look like you're having too much fun," Jian rasped, appearing beside Saphra’s cauldron.

  The women were used to his sudden airless arrivals. Saphra kept her focus on her titration. "Someone has to ensure the puppets fall in the right order, Jian. Your children are currently trying to erase the first tier from the map. We’re just making sure there’s still a map left to stand on when they’re done."

  Jian looked at his wives. He saw the fatigue in their eyes. Their mortal constitutions were fraying under the pressure of maintaining a world-scale war. Their growth lagged behind the children’s. The heirs possessed the Nothingness bloodline and direct imprints of the gods Jian had consumed. The women remained tethered to the original laws of the lower world. If they were to ever walk beside him in the Outside, they needed a jump-start.

  "I brought you some toys," Jian said, reaching into his tattered robes.

  He pulled out the three gems ripped from the Skeleton King’s staff. The stones were the size of human hearts, pulsing with dense unrefined Law-energy: Absolute Zero, Molten Core, and Petrified Time.

  "The gems of the Grave-Sovereign," Jian explained. He tossed the Ice-gem to Saphra and the Fire-gem to Zelari. He handed the Time-gem to Valen and Kaia to share. "The bone-man preferred his seat in the dark. These are pure Law-seeds. Imbue them into your Golden Cores to act as anchors for the Conceptual Expansion you lack."

  Saphra caught the Ice-gem, eyes widening as she felt the absolute soul-chilling Yin radiating from the stone. "Jian... this is a Grade-Ten catalyst. This could trigger a Divine Ascension for all of us."

  "That’s the idea, Alchemist," Jian said, performing a surgical probe of their stability. "I need peers who can survive the real theater. Refine these while the children are busy. The next gate will be less polite."

  He leaned in, breath smelling of wine-god reserve and Leviathan musk. He pressed a hand to Zelari’s cheek, his touch a brand of heat and shadow. "Stay strong, puppets. The script is moving into the final acts. I want you there to see the credits."

  Zelari leaned into his touch for a fleeting second before pushing him away with a weary smile. "Go on, you lunatic. We’ll handle the war. You just find the next meal."

  Jian folded space. His existence popped out of the internal realm and reappeared in the High Immortal region of the Iron-Sleet Vales.

  The external world was silent. A pale yellow sky looked down on metallic plains with an indifferent geometric gaze. Jian walked with a relaxed, lazy gait. He felt balanced. The Earth and Wind cores had settled into the voids left by the Dragon and Garuda. He was a silent engine of consumption.

  He followed a faint musical resonance drifting from a hidden grotto nestled between two towering pillars of magnetic ore. The air changed as he approached. The metallic stench was replaced by the scent of Sacred Water—a liquid so pure it supposedly contained the memories of the first rain.

  "Ah," Jian muttered, head tilting. "The Ancient Inheritance script. The wandering hero finds a hidden cave, avoids traps, and claims the legendary weapon waiting for a thousand years. A popular mid-season filler."

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  He walked into the grotto. His boots clicked on the floor of translucent blue crystal. A massive pool of glowing sapphire water sat in the center of the chamber. Rising from the center of the pool was a sword.

  The weapon was a masterpiece of First-Era smithing. Its blade of Azure-Sky Iron seemed to hold a piece of the ocean. It was guarded by a massive jade-scaled dragon coiled around the hilt. The dragon was a manifestation of the sword's Qi, a guardian designed to test the worthiness of an intruder.

  As Jian stepped to the edge of the pool, the dragon opened emerald eyes and roared. The sound caused the water to vibrate in harmonic patterns.

  "Halt, traveler!" a high-pitched imperious voice rang out.

  A spirit emerged from the blade. A girl looking no older than twelve, dressed in flowing water-silk. She had expressive eyes and translucent dragon-horns growing from her temples. She stood atop the hilt with arms crossed, looking at Jian with boredom and arrogance.

  "I am Sui-Mei, the Spirit of the Abyssal Tide!" the girl announced, voice echoing. "If you wish to claim the Heaven-Severing Azure-Blade, you must first prove your heart is pure and your will is—"

  "Not interested," Jian interrupted.

  The spirit girl blinked, mouth hanging open. "What? I am an Ancient Spirit! This is a legendary inheritance! You’re supposed to bow, tell me your tragic backstory, and endure three trials of character!"

  Jian walked into the water. The liquid hissed as it touched his Edge Aura. He ignored the jade dragon preparing a blast of Sacred Frost. He walked straight to the sword and grabbed the spirit girl by the back of her robes.

  "Hey! Let me go! You brute! You can't just touch an immortal spirit!" Sui-Mei shrieked, kicking at the air.

  Jian looked at her, copper eyes performing a surgical scan of her resonance. "You're a Tainted Sub-Script. A companion character designed to offer snarky advice and power-up the hero during emotional breakthroughs. I already have a Fox and a Goblin. My head is full. I don't have a slot for a water-brat."

  He reached out and gripped the blade of the sword. With a sharp twist of his Nothingness-Qi, he performed a Metaphysical Severance.

  The grotto groaned. The jade dragon screeched and dissolved into blue vapor. The connection between spirit and steel snapped like a dry twig. Sui-Mei gasped, form flickering as she was forcibly detached from her anchor.

  "You severed the bond?" she whispered in profound shock. "No one can do that! The laws of the High Crafts state—"

  "The laws are suggestions written in pencil," Jian rasped.

  He opened a ripple in the air and tossed the spirit girl into his internal realm. "Go play in the lake, brat. Saphra will find a use for your Tide-Qi. Tell her you're a new ingredient."

  Sui-Mei vanished into the void, screams fading as the portal snapped shut. Jian looked at the Heaven-Severing Azure-Blade. Without the spirit, it was just a high-quality piece of metal lacking the Spark. He wasn't a collector of history.

  He turned his attention to the pool. The Sacred Water was the real prize. The presence of the dragon and sword had converted the liquid into Sacred Dragon-Marrow Water, heavy with the law of Fluid Yin.

  "Finally," Jian muttered. A slow predatory smile spread across his face.

  He pulled a large iron-bound barrel from his storage ring and began siphoning the water into his internal realm. He remembered the Turkey-God he had sensed in the North. Using this marrow-water to brine the meat would create a flavor capable of anchoring his Fourth Step permanently. That what he theorised but would he be allowed to follow such a simple script?

  Oh, Jian, you’re so practical, Kyuzumi purred in his head. Tossing a cute little sword-spirit into the cellar just to steal the bathwater? That is a very relaxed way to handle an inheritance. But tell me, sugar... aren't you suspicious? A legendary grotto, a perfect sword, a spirit waiting for a hero. It’s all very tidy.

  Jian paused. He looked around the grotto, searching for the yellowed tint of the Old Man’s hand. The setup was a classic Reward Script designed to ensure he had the right tools for the coming battle against the Sovereign.

  "He's here," Jian whispered, eyes turning a swirling cocktail of gold and void. "The Director is watching the rehearsal. He thinks giving me a shiny sword and a cute companion will stop me from trying to burn the theater down. He thinks I can be bought with Sacred Water."

  He let out a dry rhythmic cackle that caused the sapphire water to ripple in terror.

  "I'll take the water, Old Man," Jian yelled at the ceiling. "I'll take the sword. I'll even take the brat. I’m just stocking the pantry for the day I finally get to cook the playwright."

  He finished draining the pool, leaving the grotto dry and silent. He stood in the center of the dead crystal chamber, blade tucked into his belt, barrel of divine water in his soul. The Fourth Step pulsed in his gut, balance reaching absolute airless stability.

  He was ready.

  He performed a Nothingness Step, flickering out of the grotto and reappearing on a high ridge overlooking the Iron-Sleet Vales. He looked toward the northern horizon where the Sovereign’s Capital was finally coming into view.

  The war in his gut raged. His children were breaking the first gate. His wives were becoming gods. The play in there had reached a crescendo. The Calamity was finally hungry for the main course. He began to walk, boots crushing metallic snow, a vertical streak of shadow heading toward the heart of the world’s power.

  "Let the puppets have their swords," Jian muttered to the wind. "I have the salt. And I’m starting to get very, very hungry."