Death Cultivator by eden Hudson (knowledgeable books to read .txt) 📗

“Your face and neck and arms were a skeleton,” Rali said. “Or maybe it was superimposed on your skin.” He cocked his head, squinting. “Your insides lit up and made your bones into shadows? One of those.”

“Maybe it had something to do with this guy.” I held up the grinning skull, pinched between my thumb and index finger. “It was inside the ring.”

Before they had to remind me, I sent Spirit to my eyes and checked the skull out with Ki-sight. Thin smoke trails of Miasma were creeping down the tunnel and getting sucked through its teeth.

“Holy cow.” I slipped between Kest and Rali and headed back toward the mummies. The streams of Miasma flowing into the skull’s mouth got thicker. “A Spirit vacuum?”

When I looked over my shoulder at the twins, they were staring at me.

“What are you talking about?” Kest asked. “There’s no such thing as a Spirit vacuum.”

“Obviously there’s something like it,” I said, holding up the little skull. “This guy is sucking down Miasma like there’s no tomorrow.”

Rali cocked his head. “And you can see it?”

“Can’t you guys?” I looked from him to Kest. “Do you have your Ki-sight on?”

That made Rali laugh. “Sorry. Yeah, we have Ki-sight on. Everybody does, all the time.”

But Kest wasn’t laughing.

“I...” She faltered, then put her nose in her HUD. “This requires some research.”

“So, is it eating the Spirit or storing the Spirit for later?” Rali asked.

I looked down at the skull’s crooked grin.

“Maybe it’s like the ring?” I pressed the skull to my forehead.

A cold, crackling frost ran along my bones and covered my Spirit sea with ice before dipping a single finger like a fast-forming icicle into the Spirit gathered there.

Hungry Ghost accepts Death cultivator, said a small croaky voice in my head. Sends greetings.

Hi, I thought at it after a second. Your name is Hungry Ghost?

Hungry Ghost sends Death cultivator apparatus specifications.

Like with the storage ring, images and information suddenly flooded into my brain, but this was more like a cutscene from a video game than an inventory.

In life, Hungry Ghost had been a powerful ancient cultivator of Mortal Spirit, desiring power more than anything else. No matter how much Spirit it got, it had never been satisfied. Millennia after its death, Hungry Ghost was still consuming all the Mortal Spirit it could, but as punishment for its lifetime of greed, now it could only gather Spirit for someone else.

Left alone, Hungry Ghost would gather Mortal Spirit from its surroundings unseen by anybody but its accepted master. When its master wanted to use the stored Spirit, they had to touch Hungry Ghost with some part of their skin and ask for it to give up what it had gathered. The master should be careful, however, because Hungry Ghost wouldn’t try to regulate how much Spirit it sent in response, it would just vomit it all up at once, and that could burst the banks of the Spirit rivers and seas in a less advanced cultivator.

What would happen to the cultivator? I asked.

Hungry Ghost sent me a feeling like a shrug. Death cultivator may live. Death cultivator may die. Hungry Ghost may become two Hungry Ghosts.

How do I keep you from sending too much?

A glowing outline of a guy appeared in my head, holding Hungry Ghost in his fist. He called out to the skull, asking it to give up the Spirit it had consumed. Glowing energy flowed into the guy, filling his outline up like a rain gauge. When it reached the top, he told Hungry Ghost that was enough, and Hungry Ghost stopped.

So, don’t get greedy, I thought.

Death cultivator comprehends the lesson of the Hungry Ghost, it croaked.

I took a deep breath and focused on the Spirit in my body, both in the sea and what was flowing through the rivers, regulating my internal alchemy.

Then I asked Hungry Ghost, Would you please give me some of the Death Spirit you have?

A flash of angry reluctance shot through my brain like a hot tent stake. Then it disappeared, and Spirit gushed down the fingers and part of my forehead touching Hungry Ghost. Like, a sarcastic amount of Spirit. Sort of like if you asked for a small glass of water and someone turned a firehose on you. It felt great, though. The last of the regret from the Spirit transfer faded along with the nagging hunger in my gut. Suddenly, I felt like I could punch a hole through a concrete wall or axe kick a truck in half.

That was the trick. Feeling like you could crush the world with one fist made you want the Spirit to keep flowing. I knew I should stop, but it was crazy hard to make myself. I had to rip the words out of my organs one at a time and fork them over.

That’s enough, I told Hungry Ghost. Stop.

There was a flash of disappointment from the tiny skull, then a much bigger flash on my end as the Spirit cut off. I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t ask Hungry Ghost to send me some more.

Thanks, I told it, even though in my head the word sounded more frustrated than grateful.

Resentful silence from Hungry Ghost.

Obviously, getting used to Hungry Ghost was going to be a process.

I took the little skull away from my head and gave Rali and Kest the rundown.

Rali was stoked about it. “It’s just like the old sword epics! You found a cultivator’s tomb, and his magical treasures accepted you as their new master!”

“There’s nothing about Hungry Ghosts or Spirit-gathering apparatuses on the hyperweb,” Kest said, frowning.

Instead of arguing, I opened my stats on the Winchester, then turned my wrist toward Kest so she could see the results.

“Four thousand nine hundred and eleven?”

“I was at zero a minute ago,” I said. A little voice in my head told me I could’ve been at way higher if I hadn’t stopped Hungry Ghost, but I ignored it. Mostly.

The lace in Kest’s eyes narrowed.

“Anything that powerful