Death Cultivator 2 by eden Hudson (books to read in your 20s .TXT) 📗

I would take nothing in exchange for an affiliation. So the catfish—so he—” He let his walking stick fall into the corner and hugged his thick arms around his gut, laughing his head off. “—he offered me nothing! How could I say no?”

Warcry shook his head like he couldn’t believe the crap he had to put up with.

“I can see why Kest gets so fed up with you sometimes,” I said to Rali.

“It was too perfect to pass up.” Rali finally stood back up and leaned against the wall, fanning the lace blooming in his cheeks with both hands as he tried to calm down. “Biggerstaff’s going to go belly-up when he finds out I’m nonviolent.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, I’d chain myself to a gang for the sake of a joke, too.”

Rali let out a last chuckle. “Chained with what? A signature? I don’t recognize anyone’s authority over any part of me, Hake. Why would I consider it binding over something as small as my name?”

Enemy Callback

THE HEAVENLY CONTRAILS location marker led us south from Heartchamber 2. The trajectory would’ve taken us between Bogland Station where we had gotten off the bullet train and the second to last station on the line if we’d been going that far. As it was, though, we were only going most of a day’s trek through the swamps. We were surprised by bands of bog ferals every so often, but by then fighting the decaying creatures had become routine for me. Rali and Warcry were able to save their energy while I ripped out the greasy brown life points and burned off the soul contamination with Corpse Fire.

“We have to finish working on your side when we get back,” Rali said as we waded through the swamps. “Those last few tangles in your Spirit rivers are making it impossible for your technique to purge everything. It’s still building up in that knotted area, a little at a time.”

That reminded me of something Hungry Ghost had said.

“Hey, Rali, have you ever heard of Devil Corruption?”

“It’s one of my favorite sword legend clichés,” he said. “Characters close to the hero are always doing something so that they start taking on Devil Corruption, usually with the best of intentions. Over time, the Devil Corruption takes over their mind and turns their hearts evil, and the hero has to kill them. Makes for some pretty heart-wrenching scenes. There’s this great part in Ten Lightning Strikes Against the Hero where—” He stopped. “Well, I don’t want to ruin it for you. Seriously, I can’t believe you haven’t read that yet.”

“I’ll have to check it out when Kest gets back,” I said, way less jazzed about my new reason for needing to read it.

The night sun came up, tinting the clouds orangey-magenta, and slowly passed overhead while we slogged on. The first pale touches of the blue sun were edging onto the cloudy horizon when we got within sight of the Heavenly Contrails’ signal tower. The place looked sort of like a cell tower on Earth, except without any of the flashing lights to warn away low-flying planes, and there was a little brick shed stuck on the hill beside it. No bog ferals were attacking, and no people were going in and out. From where we were, it didn’t look like much, but then neither had the Heartchamber.

“What do you want to bet it’s another iceberg? Tiny point above the ground, enormous skyscraper below,” I said, crouching down on a little bit of drier ground to give my legs a rest. Even with the internal alchemy and the constant training conditioning my body, I was still running on fumes.

“You’re going to need a boost,” Rali said, slapping me and Warcry on the shoulder.

A wave of Warm Heart Spirit rushed through my Spirit sea and out into my limbs, revitalizing the exhausted muscles and hitting me with a wake-up jolt stronger than any Coffee Drank ever had. The added benefit was this boost didn’t come with a dose of overcaffeinated anxiety. I felt calm. Focused. Ready to fight.

“If it’s set up like the Heartchamber, there’ll be armories on the highest levels,” Warcry said. “Expect plenty of firepower, yeah?”

“So I go in Death Metal shields first,” I said, cycling Miasma to my muscles, hitting all the Ki enhancements, and doubling up on skin hardening.

Rali swung his walking stick up onto his shoulders. “Do we actually know that your shields can stop bullets?”

We didn’t. The one time I’d been shot at, the Bailiff’s bullets had been slagged by Kest’s Lodestone and Hot Metal Spirit abilities. Would’ve been great to have her around right then.

“Death Metal should be in the best condition it’s ever been,” I said. “I’ve got your Warm Heart boost and all the life points I’ve absorbed over the last two hours.”

“What if, instead of running in guns blazing, we just walked in?” Rali said.

Warcry and I stared at him.

He flicked his wet hair out of his face. “We say we’re fans of the show, and we wanted to come down and see where it’s made. It might not be common, but it’d be plausible at least. And it would save us the trouble of fighting our way down through who knows how many levels without foreknowledge of where and how their fighters are being kept.”

“Yeah, but how do we explain away knowing where their location is?”

“There are a ton of Heavenly Contrails on Van Diemann,” Rali said. “We just say we heard it from one of them at the Wilderness Territorial.”

“Then what?” I asked. “They’re going to know we were full of it once we start busting out fighters.”

Rali grinned. “Then we see if your Death Metal shields can stop bullets.”

“Fine,” Warcry said, flexing his fists. “Let’s get a move on, yeah? Standing around talking about a plan we probably won’t even stick to is a waste of breath.”

“Last thing,” Rali said, pointing the end of his walking stick at me. “It might be a good