A single note rang out. A silvery note, a note of the soul. It was the same note Zane felt in that Steelheart Conclave Law recording. Now it spread from him, washing outward, touching the souls of hundreds, all at once. Resonating.
Suddenly the bottleneck fell away; some constriction vanished from his soul. Essence could flow freely again. The last of the Worldseed's essence rushed into him. It was almost enough to break past Level 100—but not quite.
After finishing off that A-grade Vial of Elixir though, he'd be there. Then he'd be a true Foundation cultivator.
He breathed out and opened his eyes; his breath was a puff of silver rising to star-dotted dusky skies. Huh. The sun was setting. What day was it? He wasn't even sure.
He stood. Something felt odd. It was those Steel Law currents. They'd been screaming at him all this time, but they'd gone quiet now. Like they couldn't touch him anymore. They felt gentle as breezes. He realized he was his own font of Elemental Law—it streamed out of him. Blunting the Meteor's Elemental Steel Law. They were equals.
He strode up into the first ring of the Crater, where silvery veins pulsed like heart-valves of the earth, where the ground was glossed totally silver, where the Steel Law was densest. He met no resistance. He strode right up to the Meteor, reached out a hand, and touched it. It was firm and very cold. When he did, he felt a resonance in his soul too. Like two songbirds singing the same pure note.
He smiled.
***
Chen Xiaoshan, Wold Rank #13 and emissary of the Mount Hua Temple, was trembling as he activated his transmission crystal.
A brash voice streamed out. It was breathing heavy; you could make out the deep-throated roaring of some Monster in the background.
"This had better be important," it said. Followed by a grunt. "These damned A-ranked dungeons, I swear—" Explosions in the background. "Such a nuisance!"
"It is important, Master," said Chen. "You won't believe this."
"Bah!" There was a massive cracking sound. Then a howl, like that same Monster had just been fatally wounded. "Speak!"
"Master—from this day forth, a new great power rises in the West…"
***
ꜱɪʙᴇʀɪᴀ
Vanessa Volkova was blasted off her feet. She crashed into the icy tundra, shattering a plate of glassy frost. She barely had time to scramble to a knee—then a silky-white sash wrapped around her throat.
And then she was cased in ice. Frozen solid.
The ice melted all at once, sloshing away. And she fell gasping.
"Good," said Irina Volkova. One clipped syllable.
"Really?" said Vanessa. She brightened. Then she flushed, schooled her expression, cleared her throat. "That is—thank you, Mother."
"As opposed to your last hundred attempts. Which were not even passable. Good should be the standard."
Vanessa sagged. "Oh."
Irina paused. "But," she sighed. "There has been a definite improvement in the past month. Don't think I haven't noticed. Keep it up."
"Yes, Mother!" Her daughter was blushing again. Embarrassing. Vanessa had many flaws, and being needy was certainly one of them. But Irina couldn't be too annoyed. Now her daughter was willing to put in the effort to improve herself; that was what mattered. It gave Irina hope.
The talent had always been there. Her daughter was as talented as Irina was—it was what frustrated Irina so. Vanessa had such gifts, yet she frittered time on nonsense. Boys and clothes and partying—before and after the Change. And she walked around so proudly all the time. Proud of what? She'd accomplished nothing. Irina told her so almost daily, but it never seemed to get through.
Before the Change, Irina had been head coach of the Russian national team in Olympic judo. Before that, she'd gold-medaled thrice for the Soviet Union. And before that, she spent twenty years straight waking up before dawn and swimming in freezing lakes—and that was a warm-up for a full day of grueling full-contact sparring with world-class black belts from dawn till dusk.
Yet Vanessa knew nothing of discipline, despite Irina's frustrated efforts. Even that America trip—which should have been a training trip—was little more than an excuse for sightseeing.
But something happened on that trip. When Vanessa came back, there was a new spark in her. Finally. She grew obsessed with getting stronger; she seemed embarrassed of herself. As she should be. Since then, she'd shot up to #14 on the Wold Rankings.
Irina was equal parts proud and annoyed. She'd had this in her all along? Where would she be if she just applied herself from the start?
Irina had only seen her like this over a boy.
…If she was honest, Irina half-suspected it was the case again. Her daughter was as foolish as she was gifted.
Then the transmission crystal in Irina's trouser pocket glowed hot. The one only made for emergencies or other such news. Frowning, she undid the leather strap, reached past the wool lining, and brought it out. Then she listened to what it had to say.
"What is it?" Vanessa asked.
"Have you heard of this—" Irina paused, listened for the name again. "Zane Walker? An American." She noted how Vanessa flinched at the name—her face instantly reddened. Interesting.
"He has just broken through to Elemental, apparently. In record time."
Vanessa gasped. Her hands balled to fists. "He got there before me? I was supposed to—ugh!"
"Who is he?"
"No-one!" said Vanessa a little too loudly. She flushed. "Just… someone I met. In America. Someone who... Let's just say the next time we meet, I'll show him!" She clenched her teeth. "Next time I'll be the one who—err—" she flushed hotter and broke off. "… nevermind…"
So it was over a boy.
Irina pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed.
Whatever the cause, her daughter was the most motivated she'd been in a long time. Irina would take it. "Again!"
***
"I don't understand," murmured Mason Smith. He and his father were from Utah. His father was the leader of the Faction that controlled it; they were both conservationists. They dreamed of making Utah something as close to a paradise as they could manage. They figured the apocalypse was also a chance to start over—to create their own little nature community.
But to do that, they needed power to protect everyone there. So they'd bought tickets to VGI, and here they were.
They'd been cultivating in the Elven Glade—the big Wood Law area—when they'd heard news that the Savage Sage was breaking through.
His father had gotten all excited. He'd dragged Mason here to watch it happen.
Mason didn't get the hype. "Didn't someone get to Foundation just last week?"
His father, Noah, looked over. Noah followed the top rankers very closely; he said it was his job, but Mason always thought it was his new thing now he couldn't watch Jazz games anymore. "Well, son," he said in a hoarse voice. "You know the super-geniuses, don't you?"
"Yeah. Like the guy who's number one on the Hell array—that Eze guy."
"Well, he broke through to Elemental in twenty-three hours. It took him three tries. And the Joker Savant took twenty-two hours, and it also took her three tries. Yuki, that Japanese fella, took twenty hours in two tries. The fastest we knew of was Jason Walker! Two tries. Eighteen hours…"
He shook his head.
"The Savage Sage took thirteen hours. One try."
"…Oh."
***
Zane put on his serious face and started walking purposefully back to the hotel, which seemed to be enough to dissuade the crowd from trying to talk to him. To his relief. They were chattering up a storm.
Once he was back, he drank the last of his A-rank Vial of Essence. It took about half an hour to get down. Then—
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝕦𝕡!
𝔼𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟙𝟘𝟘
𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝 𝟙𝟘𝟘 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕦𝕟𝕝𝕠𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕕. 𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕖𝕧𝕠𝕝𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤:
𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕌𝕡𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕖:
𝔼𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕝 ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕕 𝕕𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤, 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕗𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕔𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕣 𝕖𝕝𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕝 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕦𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤.
Oh?
ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕕 (𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔)
𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕕𝕖𝕞𝕠𝕟 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕝𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕒𝕥. 𝕀𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕤 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕚𝕟, 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕚𝕟 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕔𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖. 𝔸 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕕𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕕𝕖𝕧𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘.
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞:
𝔸𝕟𝕥𝕚-𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕠𝕣 ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤' 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕪, 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕓𝕖𝕕 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕡𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕓𝕖 𝕝𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕕𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕖𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕠𝕣-𝕡𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕒𝕓𝕚𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝.
ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥 (𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔)
𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕠𝕟𝕖-𝕞𝕒𝕟 𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕪. 𝕀𝕥𝕤 𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕕𝕠-𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕝𝕖𝕤𝕙 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕤 𝕓𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕕, 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡. 𝕆𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕘𝕖𝕥𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕚𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕒 𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕕𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣.
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞:
𝕋𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕕𝕠 𝔹𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟'𝕤 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕦𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕣 𝕒𝕟 𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕞𝕪. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕟𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕒𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕝 𝕠𝕡𝕡𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕒𝕚𝕣, 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 𝕤𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕕𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕗𝕦𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕤 𝕖𝕩𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕖𝕩𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℂ𝕪𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖-𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕊𝕜𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕤.
𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝔹𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 (𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕔)
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝔹𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤. 𝕀𝕥 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕫𝕖𝕤 𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕓𝕤𝕠𝕣𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕗𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕚𝕥𝕤 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕤, 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕔𝕙 𝕖𝕣𝕦𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕔 𝕗𝕦𝕣𝕪. 𝔸 𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕚𝕕𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖.
ℕ𝕖𝕨 𝕊𝕠𝕦𝕝 𝕎𝕖𝕒𝕡𝕠𝕟 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞:
𝕄𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕠𝕣 ℍ𝕒𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕞 - 𝕋𝕙𝕖 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕤' 𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕪 𝕞𝕠𝕝𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘-𝕓𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤; 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕦𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕖𝕠𝕣𝕤, 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕗𝕖𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕝 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕕𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕤 𝕒𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕗𝕝𝕪, 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕔𝕣𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕕. 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕓𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘. 𝕎𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕤𝕔𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕃𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕝.