The deep cuts on his chest brought Lucian great pain as he remained kneeling on the floor, trying to deal with them. There was something wrong with the wounds, some intent that prohibited their healing.
Everything his body did to regenerate the wounds was met with an equally opposing force.
It didn't help that his regular usage of the Heart of Dawn, and just recently, the Light of Dusk, had left him exhausted, and his body strained. It took ten whole minutes for that nefarious intent to begin dying down, and even then it was slow going.
"If every opponent I face…" He spoke aloud between panting breaths. "If they all, carry this intent. I cant… I can't let myself be hurt."
Lucian didn't know the specifics of the 5th stage of cultivation, after all, he'd never been given a chance to see a 5th stage cultivator work, or to read a method for that level. But what he did know, was that the 5th stage focused on the will. That held true for Augmenters and Daoists both, though he didn't know where the difference lay.
He was sure that the woman, like the beasts and constructs earlier, had no 'true' cultivation, but it definitely seemed to mimic a 5th-stage expert. And therein would lay the key to this strange intent lingering in his wounds.
'If they all mimic the 5th-stage, forget whether I can heal, It's a death sentence the moment I face two of them.
In the previous mountains, the higher he went, the more opponents he fought at once, and under greater pressure.
It was an entire hour until the intent vanished completely, and his body finished healing. During that time, he had tried to acclimate himself to the pressure here, and to reflect on his usage of the shadow world earlier. It took so much of his focus that if the woman weren't distant and distracted, he doubted he'd be capable of conjuring more than a single spear, and even then he'd need a moment's pause in the combat.
'I need to get better at manipulating the shadow world. All my attacks originate from me, but if I want to catch opponents off guard, especially Daoists who keep distance, I need more versatility. The Shadowwalker art has the potential if only I can get better at external control.'
While thinking that, he made his way over to the body of the woman. Her clothing had become as pale as her face, and another crack now ran through one of her eyes. He placed a hand under her nose to ensure no breath, not knowing if she ever breathed to begin with, when the body collapsed into dust at his touch.
A silver light containing streams of blue and orange flooded through him, the colorful streams doing as they always had for his body and soul, while the silver became a seed within.
He knew this energy. It was that pure, featureless power that he had received alongside the shadowwalker inheritance. The same power he'd used to create more lifeforce and deathfog to fill new Trueblood.
'Body, Soul, Cultivation.
'Strength, Skill, Intelligence.
'A test for each, rewards to bait ambition, and dangers to press your determination.'
Bit by bit, a fuller image of this place came into his mind. The things tested by The Maelstrom, and it's intent unraveling one string at a time.
'It can fill apparitions with intelligence enough to adapt and improvise. If that's the case, how is it that this place would continue testing others and baiting participants if the core inheritance is gone? If it can grant intelligence and build these complex challenges, surely there is someone behind it all? Why do they keep this place open?
'Unless the core inheritance has not been taken? It still operated, because it still has a purpose?'
Greed built in his heart, but Lucian did all he could to snuff it immediately.
'5th-stage.' He looked back to the stone stairs he'd taken to this place. If he wanted to leave, he felt as if all he needed was to retreat, and the doors would appear. In fact, he 'knew' that was the case, though why he knew that he did not know.
'If I'm faced with a dozen 5th-stage experts... ' he chuckled to himself 'I'm certain I'll die before conjuring a weapon.'
Almost subconsciously, he conjured a new blade of blood and gripped it tightly.
He stood there for a long time without moving, his face a frown as he tried to sort out a way to beat it all.
He could not. But…
'I want to continue.'
It was a stupid thought, a stubborn one. He'd always been trained to protect his life unless instructed otherwise, to not take impossible risks. But even so far back as his first mission outside, the hunt for Lukas Junill, he had been like this. He chased persistently, making half-hearted promises to Nine that he would run if the odds were against them. Even so many years ago, he clawed at any opportunity to justify his stubbornness. And at the time, it had worked.
Tess' voice rang out in his head.
'Don't get conceited.'
He still resented that statement. He wasn't conceited. He just didn't like losing.
But it gave him pause nevertheless. He wanted to get back safely, to seek out Tess wherever in Toubia she may be. He wanted to meet Theo and Delia again, he hadn't seen them in so long. And Tyr too, he never grew old of his brother's company.
But he didn't want to give up.
He hadn't even made a conscious decision yet when his right foot landed on the next step. Then his left foot on the step after that. He was still considering the pros and cons, the voice of reason battling his stubbornness as his feet moved. One step after another. He had already decided, the smaller voice just wouldn't give up arguing the matter.
Finally, he made a concession.
'If it's certain death, I'll turn around.
'If it's certain.'
**
Silver energy swirled as it morphed, taking on the characteristics of life and death, becoming two distinct energies that entered a synergistic cycle as they inhabited drops of blood together. Even as Lucian climbed the stone stairs, his strength built bit by bit.
The power granted him by the death of a 5th-stage expert was not even a fraction of the woman's own power, but to him, it was plenty. Two-twentieths of his blood now coursed with those dualistic energies, as another person appeared before him at the thousandth step.
He had trouble guessing the might of 5th stage experts, but he did not doubt that the one before him, and the woman he'd managed to best earlier, were of the lowest rung.
In the first mountain, were beasts of the high 3rd stage. In the second, were constructs of the mid-4th. Now here on the third, he fought experts of the low-5th stage.
The large and muscular man launched himself towards Lucian, black and yellow light shining along his body as he struck with heavy fists and the battle began.
The strange intent twisted the world and forcefully suppressed Lucian as they fought, and again every wound he received refused to heal.
He lost vision in one eye, his nose broke, and his right arm would no longer lift at his will, but in the end, it had been a shadowy rope that restrained one arm, and his left hand that held off another, as Lucian sunk his teeth into the man's throat, and tore the life from him.
As the man's vacant eyes lost the dim light they had, a fourth crack broke along his body, followed by its collapse into dust, and the energy infiltrating Lucian's body and soul.
More Trueblood, stronger body, stable soul.
He spent two hours healing from that battle, and then forged a sixth spiritual anchor, in his right leg this time.
With his own blood smeared on his face, Lucian grinned at the incredible rewards, and winced at the pain and stress his body was under.
'Just a few thousand more steps. That's all.'
**
At the thousandth step, another expert appeared. At step 1500, yet another. Every 500 steps, a singular expert would appear, and never once did Lucian achieve a clear or simple victory. Never once did he not bleed and break. But never once did his smile falter in victory.
He felt fear and dread and twice had considered turning back. But it was all part of the package that was fighting for one's life, something his mind had come to appreciate early in his childhood.
Everything he was, everything he tried to be was tested and put under a grindstone, and every time he came out smiling, he proved the merits of his long years of effort. He proved the reason for his cultivation, the reason for his confidence.
If he did not want to die, no one could make that decision for him.