Pendulum of fate part.., p.45
Pendulum of Fate - Part 1, page 45
part #14 of Painting the Mists Series
He kept to quick screening tests, prioritizing a large quantity of different cures over statistical accuracy. The moment he identified promising alchemical compounds, he would perform more in-depth screening.
This one is showing promising signs, Cha Ming thought. He had only one simulacrum, so he ran a few tests on dosage. After obtaining a positive direction, he continued to trial new remedies instead of wasting time.
He only had one simulacrum, but he had a few test subjects who had killed at least a few dozen innocents in cold blood as part of their infernalist summoning rituals. He’d held back from killing them all for this specific reason.
One of Cha Ming’s mosquito incarnations transformed into a cockroach that crawled into a cultist’s mouth. It used Words of Creation to create a pill-like amalgamation and forced it into the cultist’s stomach.
He waited. A minute. Two minutes. Nothing. No, wait, there’s something! The infernalist twitched, the contents of his stomach frothed, and he perished.
Elsewhere, more experiments were being conducted. Two more cultists died. Another responded favorably to a treatment. He increased the dosage, only to cause a seizure.
Bookworm says there was a case where someone used activated carbon to dredge the stuff out of a victim, Huxian said.
You’re kidding, Cha Ming said. That was a legitimate thing to do with some mortal poisons people imbibed. Activated carbon? They just… fed it to him? It was so mundane.
Actually, they used it to filter out their blood.
On it, Cha Ming said. He created spools of tubing and attempted the remedy. The activated carbon was actually quite good at leaching the poison out, probably because the poison was so volatile. Unfortunately, the victim didn’t wake, likely because the poison was bound somewhere inside their brain.
There’s a medical journal that tried simmerwood bark—
Too slow. Tried it.
Okay, try sunwood extract.
Grows too slow. I don’t have enough.
Camilla starflower? Huxian suggested.
I’ll try that one, Cha Ming said. The simulacrum reacted favorably to the proposed remedy, and once he approximated a dosage that might work, it began neutralizing the poison. But the poison was too powerful, and the remedy failed.
Maybe I can supplement it… Cha Ming thought. He unleashed his destruction domain and focused inside the simulacrum’s body on the micro level, on the alchemical components in the blood. They were difficult to see, but with the help of the Crown of the Starry Sky, he could manage it. Just barely.
He could see the antidote trying to pry apart bonds and runic structures that were adhered to the victim’s biology through chemical and magical means. Specifically, there were completely saturated receptors on the brain, and they in turn created links into the victim’s spiritual sea.
Cha Ming channeled the Concept of Dismantling. He avoided the Concept of Breaking because that seemed too violent. While the alchemical remedy tried to break apart the poison, he helped it peel away at the pernicious alchemical-biological-spiritual bonds.
It was a surprising success. He was able to break apart a few bonds, but they were immediately re-formed thanks to an influx of fresh alchemical poison in the victim’s blood. Now that he could find the responsible reagents, he destroyed the poison with his domain, completely purging the blood, and tried again.
He replicated the alchemical and domain solution many thousands of times in a small area, sweeping over the brain, until finally, they were able to completely eliminate the poison. The simulacrum woke up.
No time. Live trial. One of Cha Ming’s incarnations appeared next to a sleeping cultist. He copied the remedy over, and a minute later, the cultist awakened.
“Wha…” the cultist started when he opened his eyes groggily.
Cha Ming slit his throat. He knew what these people did, and it disgusted him. Was what he was doing unethical? Maybe. But he didn’t have time to worry about being perfect, because people were dying.
He proceeded to gather his incarnations inside the prison area. It wouldn’t take too long if he devoted many parts of his true self. He was about to begin when three gold rankers and a group of twenty silver-ranked minions entered the room.
“This place is a disaster,” one of them said. “So many dead. How in the seven hells did they manage to pull it off?”
“I’m more curious as to how they poisoned this place so quickly,” the second gold ranker said. “It must have been timed. A bomb or a trap or something.”
“Must be,” the third said. “No other way to set them all off at once. It begs the question, though: Where are they? The ones who snuck in?”
“It’s not our concern,” the first infernalist said. “Our goal is to summon a group of gold-ranked blood-seeking devil hounds. That archer is picking us off like apples in an orchard, and we can’t tie him down. We need something fast. Something with a nose. Something he can’t just kill and keep running.”
The cultists sent some of their devil spawn to pull out sleeping prisoners. “Are they dead?”
“Naw. Sleeping.”
“Then why are our people dead?”
A pause.
“That’s a good point. Keep your guard up. Make sure they’re not hiding among the prisoners.”
They proceeded to drag not one, not two, but ten out of the thirty prisoners into the ritual circle, all of them gold rankers. Whatever they were summoning was bad news. Unfortunately, now that they were aware that someone was inside the tunnels killing their people, they weren’t communicating verbally anymore.
The devil spawn fell into formation around the three cultists as they started chanting and connected to the circle. The ten in the circle began bleeding out from all their orifices.
Cha Ming needed to do something, and fast. He didn’t have much time to think, but upon reflecting on his recent actions, he decided he had no bottom line with these people. He had no idea if there were mosquitos in the seven hells where these devil spawn were created, but he was going to find out. A hundred mosquitos flew out as a small group.
To Cha Ming’s pleasant surprise, the devil spawn glared at the mosquitos but did nothing but looked peeved. A few waved their hands, missed, and scowled. Apparently, mosquitos were universally reviled, even in hell, so likely in heaven as well.
There was no time for anything fancy. He needed to do something fast. And it couldn’t endanger the prisoners. Dumping chemicals on them was not an option.
Cha Ming had already killed people from the inside in cockroach form, so an idea came to mind. He might not be able to crawl into their mouths, but he could make their worst nightmares a reality. Four dozen of his mosquito selves simultaneously entered just as many ears before the cultists and the devil spawn could do anything about it.
The slaps came too slowly. The majority of his incarnations were able to safely duck into their ear canals. Some of the devil spawn didn’t have ear canals, so they were immune to his suicidal attack.
A few were clever and sent fire his way, killing five of his incarnations. Unfortunately for them, that only gave Cha Ming more ideas.
Space was limited, but Cha Ming had many forms. He was already inside, so he turned into an ant and began tunneling deeper into their disgusting ears. He channeled destruction qi despite the incompatible body and carved a tunnel toward their defenseless brains.
The ant bodies burned away under the strain. They were capable of channeling small amounts of destruction qi, and this would destroy them, but Cha Ming was willing to accept this loss. The moment before they perished, Cha Ming summoned tiny versions of the Clear Sky Carving Knife and had the soul-bound treasure bore into their brains, completely liquidating them.
Cha Ming’s mind reeled as he lost thirty incarnations and roughly five percent of his remaining qi, divinity, and spiritual strength. Many of his incarnations disappeared and re-formed just outside of the screaming cultists and devil spawn. He had ten of them transform into human incarnations and fly into the ritual circle, where the gold rankers were still bleeding out. He simply picked them up and left.
The absence of sacrifices did not go unnoticed by the circle. Its function quickly changed, and in a strange reversal, it was the summoners, mostly dead but still hanging on, that were claimed as collateral for their failure. They shriveled up into desiccated husks as the summoning circle drank in all the blood, bones, and flesh in their body.
The infusion of potent energy activated the summoning circle. Three gold-ranked creatures jumped out of it. The blood seekers looked at the devil spawn, then Cha Ming, then realized that they were free and could do whatever they wanted. They proceeded to attack the nearest creatures, the devil spawn.
The devil spawn weren’t looking good. They were physically much tougher than their cultist counterparts and could even resist damage to their brains. They were still bleeding from their ears and off balance, so these impromptu meat shields were immediately overwhelmed by the blood seekers.
Cha Ming might have joined the fighting, but he had no time. He dragged the exsanguinated gold rankers back into the cage, banished other incarnations, then split into thirty parts who immediately created and began administering the antidote.
He’d never thought to use his destruction domain to heal before. It was a new and invigorating experience.
It wasn’t long before the first of them began to awaken. These were the strongest of the gold rankers. Simultaneously, the first of the devil spawn perished to the uninjured blood seekers.
“What… what’s happening?” one of the gold rankers asked.
Cha Ming summoned piles of equipment and medicinal pills that he’d claimed from their treasury with another incarnation. “You are currently imprisoned by the Crimson Gorge Gang, most of which has been eliminated,” he explained. “You have all been poisoned, but I am waking you up.” He waved over to the weapons, armor, and medicinal pills. “I realize you are likely very drowsy, but please move as quickly as you can. As you can see, the situation outside isn’t promising.” Then, realizing that they were still bound hand and foot, he flicked the Clear Sky Carving Knife over to their bonds and released all thirty of them.
The prisoner eyed Cha Ming’s thirty copies, then looked over to the ritual circle they’d learned to dread. The three gold-ranked infernal summons were clawing their way through the ten remaining silver-ranked devil spawn that hadn’t died yet.
When two more gold rankers awakened, Cha Ming’s claim that he was waking them up was confirmed. Equipping themselves was clearly the best course of action, regardless of what was happening, so they took a minute to don whatever magical gear they could put their hands on, regardless of ownership.
Thank the heavens I made it in time, Cha Ming thought as the rest of the gold rankers awakened, and the first silver rankers did as well. The others were in good shape and would awaken soon.
He’d learned an important lesson today and decided that perhaps the liberal use of chemicals on the battlefield was a bad idea. He’d need to think it through before trying such a thing again.
***
While Cha Ming was busy playing doctor and assassinating people and devil spawn in mosquito form, Petros was fleeing for his life.
Things had been going so well. He’d picked off most of the cultists, including a few drowsy gold rankers, and even a few gold-ranked infernal summons, since they took quite a lot of time to summon, but then the game changed.
Now, he was running. He was bleeding, low on mana, had been cursed three times, and was headed straight for a dead end. Clear Sky, I really hope you can hear me, because I think I might be dying, Petros said. Please tell me you’re almost done. I really need a meat shield.
There were cliffs to either side of him, and each was sheer and unclimbable. He could fly—he could even teleport if he wanted to—but the succubus in the air disabused him of that notion.
Worse, the succubus was extremely quick. No number of arrows would put her down. His pursuers were also extremely quick, and those that weren’t would require multiple arrows to fell.
If only I had someone to tie down their leader, Petros thought. That was when another curse hit him. A familiar curse.
He slowed down his pace when he realized that every step was like walking on nails. His feet were bleeding, and his clothes were now slick with blood. Not this one again, Petros thought. Does more than one of them have this curse, or can their leader cast it twice? He wasn’t sure, nor did it matter, because now he no longer had medallions or talismans to purge said curse.
The situation was desperate, but Petros kept his cool. He fell back on what he did best: He turned. He aimed. He shot. This time, he went for explosive arrows, because his mage-slaying arrows were going to get blocked anyway.
Anytime now, Clear Sky, he said as a type of devil spawn called a shredder broke past his firing line, forcing him to stop his attack. If it were anything else, he could have dodged, but if something vicious like a shredder got close, he was done for.
Dealing with shredders was precision work. They were almost pure bone, pure sharp bone, and they were quick. That meant that you couldn’t just fire at them as they ran toward you—you had to catch them just when they were going to attack you. And if you failed, you were dead.
The shredder jumped to the side. Petros turned, aimed, and fired a quick feint. An illusory arrow blew past the shredder, who dodged it as though it were real. The shredder sent a few spurs of bones Petros’s way, and Petros activated a low-level dodging skill to avoid the damage. One had to be careful with shredder spurs, because they were often poisoned.
Petros jumped backward despite the curse, almost slipping on his own blood. He unleashed three consecutive volleys at the shredder and used the kickback from each shot to propel himself further back. The shredder dodged, but Petros didn’t care, because he hadn’t been aiming for the shredder. An explosion rocked the canyon as all three shots hit and detonated the traps he’d dropped on his way through the entrance of the canyon.
Unfortunately, he’d underestimated the effects of the explosion under tight confines. The rush of air blew him off balance, and the shredder saw it. Its eyes gleamed as it rushed in for the kill, and a look of fear crossed Petros’s face.
Only momentarily, of course, because this was the real trap. The explosion’s effects had been carefully calculated.
Shatterstorm arrow! Petros switched his arrow type to one that wasn’t so useful against any of his other pursuers. It was an arrow meant to break treasures, and as such, it was ideal for something made of pure bone like a shredder. The skeletal creature was committed to its attack, so it took the arrow straight in the chest. A storm of destructive vibrations shot through the skeletal being.
The shredder exploded, sending a blast of bone shrapnel at Petros, who took the hit at point-blank range. Shards of bone pierced his armor, stabbing his arm, his chest, and his thigh. His right hand was bleeding, and so was his scalp, but Petros didn’t care. He grinned and turned back toward the survivors of the explosion. He would get them. He would be victorious. He would—
He turned just in time to see the cult leader running toward him, red-robed, red-skinned, and completely covered in tentacles. “What in the…” He was too fast. Petros didn’t have time to defend himself. CLEAR SKY! The cult leader was only a few feet away from him.
That was when a grasshopper shot off Petros’s chest. The tiny insectile bullet shot out at the abomination the cult leader had become and grew as it did so, transforming into a human who shoved his staff straight into the cult leader’s face.
Petros jumped backward and put some distance between himself, the cult leader, and Cha Ming. He eyed the skies warily, expecting an ambush, but discovered the succubus no longer cared about him. She saw Cha Ming as the greater threat to her master.
Excellent, Petros thought. This is what I’m built for. This is what I do.
He turned. He aimed. Then he began shooting with everything he had.
Banishing several hundred incarnations at once, then suddenly focusing on Petros’s shoulder from the perspective of a grasshopper, was disorienting.
Subsequently shooting himself at a flesh-warped monstrosity as he regained his human senses was even worse. Cha Ming had no idea that the leader of the infernalists could fight at melee range, but he soon discovered that the cult leader was good at it.
All types of stereotypes were broken, and worse, there were now bloody tentacles in his face, and his staff was useless. Then another creature closed in before he could even regain his footing and analyze the situation. This one emitted a crooning sound.
Not good! Cha Ming’s confused consciousness began to drift. A succubus appeared behind him and dug her claws into his chest, and his spiritual force began to drain away at an alarming rate.
Come here and rest… the voice said as it lulled him closer and closer to blissful oblivion.
He felt chains gently wrap around his soul and dig into his spiritual sea. It was peaceful. Blissful. Nothing could be better. Cha Ming regained a modicum of self-awareness and realized he shouldn’t be feeling so good about the situation. He used that opening to summon the Ninesky Seals and shoot them up into the air.
A devil-sealing sky appeared above them, filling the area with a searing jade light. It weakened the succubus’s enchantment just enough that Cha Ming realized his soul was being torn apart.
So… strong… he thought as his consciousness drifted. The darkness loomed closer. Just a little more, and he was finished.
It was time to sleep. It was time to rest. Just like all those cultists he’d killed. Just like those prisoners almost had, until he’d awakened them.
That was when an arrow of light illuminated the darkness and blasted through his chest. It was Petros! He’d shot him! Thank heavens for friendly fire.
