Crystal core 2 a litrpg.., p.17
Crystal Core 2: A Litrpg Cultivation Adventure, page 17
I groaned and shook my head. Whiplash for sure.
One minute she was talking about killing dozens of men and terrorizing an entire camp. The next she was flirting as shamelessly as… well… I didn’t know a good comparison other than one I’d read in a book.
To be fair, I had no real-world experience before coming to the Divided Realms, so I didn’t know what to compare her to other than a Saldean farm girl. But that only marked me as a nerd.
I jumped over to a nearby tree and laid down to catch a nap before it was time to implement Kumo’s plan. There was only so much teasing that I could take, after all. It did make me miss Elu, though.
It had taken time, but I felt on much more stable ground with her. I was still figuring things out with Kumo, and that wasn’t even considering the fact that her mother was somehow haunting her. I had no idea how I was going to fix that, but that was a problem for future Ryan. I settled against the trunk and caught two hours of rest.
The night air was crisp, the kind that bites at your skin with an invisible chill—especially under the cover of dense foliage that the moonlight struggled to penetrate. Kumo and I, clad in the shadows like a second skin, moved with a purposeful silence, laying the groundwork for a night of unrest for the Brazee cultivators and their followers. The psychological aspect of warfare was something Kumo was particularly adept at, and I found myself learning a great deal about the subtler aspects of conflict.
It was so much more than mere physical confrontations.
Our first task was setting up traps along the road. These were designed as much to create confusion and uncertainty as to injure. We placed dozens of tripwires and snares. Some were attached to bells that would clang loudly, while other were attached to a spring-loaded spike. The truly deadly ones were connected to power bomb like items she had in her storage ring. The armory she carried with her seemed like an arm’s dealer’s dream.
While I was busy with this, Kumo took a more direct approach. She had prepared a batch of weak poison earlier, something that wouldn't kill but which would make anyone who ingested it miserably sick. Moving with the grace and silence of a shadow, she infiltrated the enemy camp. It was scary how good she was, and it made me realize that Neman’s punishment was too harsh.
He never stood a chance of stopping her. She was the best at what she was doing.
She made her way to the cooking pots, where meals were being prepared for a couple of hundred soldiers. Time and again, she snuck around the camp as she introduced the poison into several pots to ensure a widespread effect.
The rest of the night included a series of hit-and-run attacks on their pickets and into the camp itself. We positioned ourselves at a distance and launched ranged attacks into the camp. Using a combination of arrows and darts, we targeted the pickets where the soldiers were more likely to be hit. Our aim wasn't to kill but to injure and, more importantly, to harass.
Each strike was followed a swift retreat back into the growing darkness, our locations constantly changing to preclude any successful counterattack.
The effect of our actions became more evident as the evening progressed. The constant clattering of our traps, coupled with the surprise attacks, created a real sense of chaos. Soldiers scrambled at every noise, their formations breaking as they tried to identify the source of the next attack.
The tension in the camp was a palpable cloud of unease that settled over the area like a dense fog.
Kumo's poison worked its magic, as well. Not long after the soldiers had their evening meal, sounds of discomfort and distress filled the camp. Men clutched their stomachs, their faces twisted in pain as the poison induced severe nausea and diarrhea. The latrines were soon overcrowded, and the area was enveloped in a vile stench that added to the overall misery.
Let me tell you, the sound of a couple hundred men all emptying their stomachs and bowels at the same time was beyond disgusting.
Throughout the night, we pressed on with this psychological warfare. We didn't manage to kill any more of the cultivators, but we did injure several of them, peppering them with arrows and darts whenever they exposed themselves. They were simply being cautious and pulled back whenever we attacked. Our primary objective, however, was to ensure that none of them, cultivator or soldier, got a moment's rest.
As dawn approached, the camp was a picture of disarray. Soldiers were exhausted, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow from a night of torment. The cultivators, though less affected physically, were visibly agitated, their composure frayed by the constant disruptions and lack of sleep.
Kumo and I observed from a distance as the first light of dawn broke through the canopy. Our night of terror might not have reduced their numbers significantly, but it had achieved its purpose. That left us some time to move.
We sped back towards Eno and didn’t stop until we were within five miles of the city. Our traps on the roads only covered a couple of miles, and then, after a break, they covered a few more miles. The rest of the way, the enemy would not be harassed.
Kumo said that was intentional; it was meant to cause them to relax, to become overconfident again.
The problem with all of this was that if we couldn’t take out a few more of the cultivators, they were going to be too strong when they reached Eno. I came up with a back-up plan of leading them away from the city. I kept that to myself, though—at least for now.
Chapter 19 - Surprises
After another quick nap, we were up and prepped our location. Another round of traps would have to do. I wished that Elu was here. Her ability to manipulate the Earth would have been incredibly useful for making obstacles. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d been missing her, because just thinking about her made it feel like she was closer to me.
It seemed almost like she was only a few miles away instead of back in Senetra. I shook my head and got back to work. Wishing wouldn’t make it so. If I’d learned anything in the hospital, it was that.
Early in the afternoon, Kumo came rushing back to me. “The cultivators moved on ahead without the rest of the army. They’ll be here any minute.” She suddenly laughed. “And they look pissed. There are only eighteen of them left, one of the E-rankers is gone.”
We could only speculate about how that happened. I supposed it was possible that Ahgrin had killed another of them. I didn’t think any of our traps were enough to kill a cultivator, although they’d likely given the regular soldiers a rough time.
I began weighing whether or not it was time for plan B.
Jest then, Kumo shook her head violently and mumbled, “He wouldn’t do that.”
Great. She was getting get all twitchy now of all times? I tamped down my frustration. I couldn’t be mad at her about it, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.
“What’s the matter, Kumo?”
“Mother says that you’re considering sacrificing yourself.”
“No,” I started to protest. But then, remembering that I didn’t want our relationship to be built on less than full transparency, I said, “I was considering how I might be able to lead them away to buy Eno more time to evacuate.”
“She said that would likely result in you being caught and killed. You’re strong, but you can’t defeat that many and eventually they’d wear you down. Mother says that men who think themselves Heroes are the greatest fools of all. Real heroes are those who do what must be done, even when no one else understands.”
I winced at the thread of truth in her words, but I wasn’t ready to start taking advice from my mother-in-law’s ghost. “We can’t bring a fight with this many cultivators into the city. Hundreds of civilians would die.”
Shikumo chewed on her lip for a few seconds, looking more anxious than I’d ever seen her. “Then trade me to them. They will hold me for ransom and get some concessions from my father, but wouldn’t dare kill me after I surrendered to them.”
“What kind of man would do that to a woman he cared about, let alone his wife?” I snapped.
She mumbled, “He cares about me.”
I ignored her and continued, “I’m not willing to hand you over to anyone.” Then, realizing the words that would work for her, I said, “Remember that you are mine, and no other man is allowed to touch you.”
She stood a bit taller and then winked at me, “I guess, I’m just going to have to kill them all.”
A few minutes later, I sensed the aura of multiple cultivators heading our way. The forest was much thinner at this point. It wouldn’t be long before they would reach our traps, but a few trip wires and a pit weren’t going to stop them.
Bursts of fire went off as they blasted away our traps and a loud voice carried to us on currents of air. I sensed the Sky mana in it. It wasn’t as strong as what I’d sensed from the Baku clan, but it looked like one of their numbers had a lesser talent for Sky mana as well as Fire mana.
“I don’t know who paid you,” the voice said, “but if you step forward and submit yourselves as hostages, I swear upon my honor as an elder of the Brazee clan that you will not be harmed so long as the ransom for you is paid.”
I recognized Ahgrin’s voice, even though I couldn’t see the man. We’d agreed that I should do the talking because, despite her reputation, cultivators would react better to dealing with a man.
“I have a counterproposal: You all turn around, leave, and never return to Eno. Do this, and we’ll not only let you live, but will also forgive all your transgressions up to this point.”
“I can’t do that,” Ahgrin shouted back. “One of you—I’m guessing it was the crazy Ninjamae bitch—killed the son of our sect head. Someone is going to pay. It will either be Eno or you.”
“Crazy bitch? Crazy bitch?!” Kumo taunted. “You haven’t even begun to see crazy. I know what a so-called man like you needs, so I’ll give you a chance. You’re the kind who like to beat up on women and non-cultivators to demonstrate how strong you are. Well, here’s your chance. I challenge you to a duel to the death. The winner will take Eno and do with it as they please. The loser will retreat.”
I groaned.
I never would have agreed to those terms, but I had to admit there was a certain intelligence to her plan. We couldn’t beat a D-ranker, especially a powerful one, if we also had to fight seventeen other cultivators. I’d realized that even most E-rankers simply weren’t a match for me, but I was trying to be careful not to get too big of a head. My stats and the density of my mana were my advantages, but I still didn’t have their skill with weapons. Raw stats covered for a multitude of deficiencies—and with that new technique, I had a way to devastate my enemies.
Ahgrin’s laughter carried to us on currents of mana. “That doesn’t sound like a very promising offer. If I kill you, even if it is in a duel, what is to keep Rurren from skinning me alive if he feels like it?”
“Then you admit you have no honor?” Shikumo pressed.
“Never let it be said that the Brazee clan lacks honor. I won’t duel you, but I’ll agree to duel the other cultivator with you. My people haven’t been able to identify his sect, which likely means he’s either a wandering cultivator or from a smaller sect. If he wins, then my men will retreat. If I win, you will become my hostage and Eno will be mine to do with as I please.”
Before Kumo could reply, I shouted back, “Those terms are too beneficial to you. I’m not willing to let you have Shikumo as a hostage.”
Silence followed my pronouncement. “We have the stronger position. We are the ones giving up much by not attacking you right now. Why should I take a lesser deal?”
He grew silent for a moment longer and then began to laugh. “Oh, this is too good… You seek the Widow’s daughter as a wife. I’d sooner cut my manhood off than touch her that way. The stink of crazy lies too heavy on her.”
I felt my blood start to boil. I had to remember that warfare was as much in the mind as it was physical. Kumo had proven that to me, and I would be a fool not to realize that two could play that game.
“Instead of Shikumo as a hostage, I offer you a piece of knowledge. If you win the duel, then Shikumo will tell you the details about how the Yandao clan has summoned a new Hero to the divided realms to deal with the oncoming horde. She will tell you everything she knows about him, which is more than just about anyone else. A wise man like you should be able to parlay that information to some advantage in the future and you won’t have to deal with Rurren when you’re holding his daughter hostage.”
There was silence again for several seconds. “I accept your terms, but we will duel before the gates of Eno. I want them all to see their hope be crushed and to learn how they will be ground beneath my heel.”
As we approached the gates of Eno with our uneasy truce, I took the time to examine Ahgrin a bit closer. He was likely closer to forty than fifty, though what that meant for a cultivator was less obvious to me. His clothing, beard, hair, and even the jewelry he wore were all perfectly maintained and of the best quality.
He seemed to be a man who placed a great deal of value on appearance.
When I looked to the town, I noticed that the atmosphere was charged—not just with the tension of the impending duel, but also with an underlying current of unrest. The walls were lined with both guardsmen and citizens, all of whom craned their necks for a view of the fight that was about to take place before their very gates.
The murmurs and gasps from the crowd were a constant backdrop, but above it all, there was another sound — the unmistakable clamor of fighting coming from within the walls themselves. My mind raced, trying to piece together what could possibly be happening inside. But before I could voice my concern or demand answers, Ahgrin started the duel.
Ahgrin shouted, “People of Eno. I am Ahgrin, an Elder of the Brazee sect, and I shall be your master or your butcher. Many of you will pay for hiring these cultivators to fight us. Once I kill this one named…” He paused and cocked his head to me, “What is your name?”
The guards on the wall shouted, “Ryan, Ryan, Ryan!”
“Isn’t that cute? They think you are their savior. Well, let’s see if you can even entertain me.”
Then he rushed at me.
Ahgrin wielded a broadsword with a speed that belied its size. The blade, which glinted ominously in the sunlight, seemed almost to be a part of him, an extension of his will. He moved with a speed and strength that were unsettling.
His mastery over Fire and Sky Mana was evident in the way he seamlessly integrated them into his attacks. The air around us crackled and heated, and the ground beneath our feet scorched in places where his attacks landed. If it weren’t for the fact that my Neutral Mana was so good at breaking the power of his attacks, I would have died in the first exchange.
Instead, we moved into a back and forth with my axe always seeming to be an instant too slow to land a hit. No matter how hard I pushed myself, I couldn’t get past him. What was worse, he seemed to be getting faster and stronger during the fight.
Not since I’d sparred with Elu had I faced someone who was clearly so much stronger than I was—and I’d been a lot weaker back then. His Strength must be truly prodigious to have this effect, given that none of the Brazee seemed to rely upon a Strength build.
It didn't take long for me to realize that Ahgrin was playing with me, his strikes were calculated to test and probe rather than immediately to incapacitate. The realization was a cold splash of reality.
Ahgrin wasn't just peak D-rank. His power and control suggested he was at least in the lower end of C-rank. This was a disparity I hadn't anticipated, and it put me at a severe disadvantage.
I remembered what Valdoc had taught me about stats. E-ranked stats went from 60 to 140, with D-ranked stats rising to 300, and C-ranked stats falling somewhere between 300 and 600. My stats were high for an E-rank, with some of them putting me into the low D-ranks, even if the other elements of my cultivation were harder to gauge.
But Ahgrin might have as many as four times my current stats. So much for the stat advantage I’d always relied upon. That pushed this into a battle of skill, which he clearly outclassed me in. The Elder had a lifetime of fighting with a sword compared to my few months with an axe.
Or it could be a cultivation battle. As strange as that sounded with my limited number of techniques, I imagined I stood a batter chance in a mana battle. It might stretch or even break some of my channels or meridians, but what good were any of those if I was dead?
Despite the odds, I fought back with everything I had. My axe, though not as large as Ahgrin's broadsword, was wielded with all the strength and speed I could muster by flaring my stats. I pushed them to their limits and my body began to hum with power.
But still I found myself outclassed. Ahgrin's movements were a blur. His attacks came from angles that were difficult to predict and even harder to counter. I sustained several deep and painful cuts, but managed to avoid anything fatal.
In desperation, I tapped into my Neutral Mana, attempting to disrupt Ahgrin's rhythm. I managed to pop his aura, which permitted me a brief flicker of victory, but he reformed it almost instantaneously. A smirk played on his lips as if to mock my effort.
I launched Disrupting Fist at him, hoping to break through his defenses, but it only served to break up one of his attacks. He simply adjusted, and then came at me with a renewed ferocity.
As his attacks intensified, I called upon Embrace of the Mother and the silver protective shell formed around me. For a moment, it seemed as though I could withstand his onslaught. Up to this point, no one had been able to break through it.
Sadly, Ahgrin's power was too great. Each strike against my shield felt like a hammer blow. I felt the strain on my mind as the technique threatened to shatter with each blow.
With each passing second, the duel seemed more and more a foregone conclusion. Ahgrin's superiority was not just his rank, but his experience and his skill. He toyed with me, his broadsword a deadly dance partner I couldn’t quite keep pace with. The citizens and guardsmen on the walls watched with bated breath, their silence a growing burden pressing down on my shoulders. I knew they saw what I felt — that despite my best efforts, Ahgrin was on the verge of victory.
