“By breaking through into the one million rankings, you have earned a Silver Fortune. The System blesses your survival and wishes you luck.”

“By breaking through into the hundred thousand rankings, you have earned a cultivation treasure. The System recognizes your ambitions and seeks to nourish your strength.”

“By breaking into the ten thousand rankings, you have earned a technique manual chosen by the System’s representatives. The System sees your potential and would guide your path.”

Each time the star-otter recited a reward, Nic’s hand clenched further into a fist. These were all excellent. Lately, he’d been reaping reward after reward for his earlier work.

“That last one-” Sofia noted. “Is up to me. I will be right back when I’ve found you the perfect choice.”

Nic was practically salivating already.

“Done.” She declared, with startling speed.

“Really?”

“Oh Nicolas. Reading a few thousand cultivation books is really quite easy for me. I’m not restricted like a flesh and blood creature is.”

“In that case…” The star otter flicked through the air, and three glowing motes of stardust broke away from its skin. “I bestow upon you the gifts of the System.”

Each tiny star landed on the floor in front of Nicolas and expanded. The first one became a slim red volume, ragged and tattered, that exuded a sense of bloodshed.

The second became a small curled thing. Nic had to blink before realizing it was the severed tail of an alabaster white lizard.

Finally, a silver bubble floated up from the last star. It was the same as the golden bubble that had appeared when Shane finished off the boar, or the silver one that came from the dead Ascended Sand Devil.

Instinctively, Nic reached for the tail first. Small glowing spots of gold lined the smooth white scales.

Sacrifice of the Hellbent Lizard. F-Class // Medicine. Given up by an immortal and devilish lizard to escape being devoured by its hunters, this tail contains a trace of power from the fiend sages of the hells. On devouring it, you will enter a battle rage that massively amplifies your regeneration for a short period each time you slay a foe, and gain a small fraction of the slain enemy’s cultivation base. This state is extremely exhausting to maintain and will leave the weak drained for hours, nearly unable to move.

Despite its stately appearance, it was actually full of abyssal, roiling energies. Nic winced. It was a medicine for a slaughtering path that cut down the weak en masse. It wasn’t something he would’ve chosen for himself- but he already knew it would come in handy one day.

Next he reached for the book. Simply touching it gave him an idea of what lay within, the cover soaked in blood and burnt by fire, the energy flowing through the pages seething with anger.

Inner-Sacrifice Cauldron Technique. F-Class // Manual. This forbidden technique was designed by a lesser sect who gave their lives defending a holy mountain of true cultivators. It creates a seething cauldron within the body, consuming vital essences and damaging the internal organs to produce a massive surge in bodily strength. Born from alchemical techniques, it also moderately increases the benefit of medicines.

Nic grinned. This was definitely a good choice by Sofia. While the drawbacks would be massively painful and for a human, leaving their internals torn apart with each use and potentially crippling them with each use, he would simply stitch back together with time. That it would strengthen the cures and cultivation medicines he found was simply a cherry on top.

Bracing himself, he flipped the cover open. Instantly the pages began to turn themselves, flowing past, faster and faster until they burst into flame and formed a halo of seering red. Black runes floated within the blaze and shot towards him, smoke pouring in through his mouth and eyes.

Nic coughed and spluttered as the technique seared itself down into his soul. The runes settled into his cultivation base, forming an array like a cauldron beneath the golden lake of power. Waiting to burn him alive to fuel his ascent towards the stars.

Wiping the slimy sweat from his brow, Nic turned towards the Silver Fortune. The otter was floating above it, batting at the little silver sphere with its paws, waiting for him.

“I love watching these open.” It admitted. “The suspense is killing me.”

“So far I’ve gotten a sixth of a cultivation manual and half a set of bracers.” Nic laughed. “I’m hoping for a whole prize this time…”

And just to make sure, he wrapped his fist around the bag of Stardust before reaching out.

In the instant his fingers made contact, right before it burst apart into a puff of whirling nebula and cosmic dust, a vivid jade-green flash ran down the glowing silver surface. Lute’s eyes widened and Nic instantly knew that whatever it was…

It was going to be good.

A shadow formed within the turning cloud of nebula. The bubblegum pink and royal purple dust parted, stars burning bright as the blackness expanded. It had a lumpy, tumor-like shape, and Nic couldn’t make out what it was as it formed…

Until it took on a red hue. It was a withered apple the color of clotted blood. Three faces, all horribly warped and wailing, were formed in discolored pink-orange flesh along the sides. He recognized them instantly, despite each being a distorted parody.

Azmin Hale.

Baby Boots.

And the worthless son of d23’s governor.

Fruit of Enmity. E-Class // Medicine. This poison fruit bears an ancient grudge, grown from battlefields that have soaked in hatred and warfare for generation after generation. This resentment takes the form of man-devouring trees and the fruits of enmity, cursed things that seek only more bloodshed. This fruit bears the faces of your three worst enemies, and will absorb a part of their soul each time you slay one of them, until with the third soul its poison nature is transformed into a miraculous medicine. Devoured at this stage, it will grant a portion of the slain foes’ abilities and strengths.

Nic was stunned. E-Class…

The difference the System’s rigged ‘luck’ made was really incredible. Even the gentle Lute seemed flustered as he clapped his hands together. “Amazing! A Jade Fortune hidden inside a Silver? The System is really too kind to the young master.”

Nic could have scoffed. Even now, his prize was really another challenge. The System urging him on, telling him to meet his enemies in battle and come out stronger. There was no kindness here. Just a relentless forward drive.

But it was a pressure Nic could withstand. One he could come out stronger for.

He stared into the faces of the fruit of enmity, turning it between his fingers. Nobody he wasn’t already planning to kill…

---

Nic left the temple and stepped onto the grounds with a grin. Captain Cegan was waiting for him. Flanking him were a half-dozen of the guards, each of them wearing their own variant of what Nic would dub ‘the smirking idiot’ look.

Inkspur rode on his shoulder, preening himself proudly before the withering gazes of the group.

“Are you ready to prove yourself?” Cegan asked.

“Born ready, yep. All I’ve gotta do is beat you, right?” Nic knew he shouldn’t be prodding a potential ally like this. After all, Cegan would be joining his Settlement soon enough. For a second he hesitated and genuinely considered a touch of diplomacy. But no, Cegan was never going to be an ally. The battle lines had already been drawn.

Cegan wasn’t just a prick.

He was a prick all the way down.

“Should be easy.” Nic smirked.

Cegan’s sword shot out of its sheathe with incredible speed. It slammed into the soft earth of the temple’s gardens, quivering as it stood in front of Nic.

“We will duel with sword alone. No Shards. No treasures. No techniques.” He turned back and took a new blade from his men. “To show there’s no advantage of wealth between us, you may use my sword.”

Nic winced. Okay, less easy- the sword was sized wrong for his hands, and it had been a long time since he’d used one. Not as fast and long-reaching as a spear. Not as powerful and sweeping as an axe. The sword was a weapon that focused on fluid grace, flexibility, skill. Enchanted by the tales of sword cultivators, Nic had trained with one long enough to know...

It was a pain in the ass to master.

He yanked the sword out of the ground. It was a simple jian sword- a double edged blade with a small hilt like a knob of decorated steel. A tassel hung from the base of the blade, meant to catch blood running down the channel at the center of the steel, preventing it from making the wielder’s hand slippery.

Nic noted with dismay that Cegan had given him a shorter blade and chosen a longer from one his companions. He wielded a curved saber with easily an axolotl-arm of added reach against the short jian.

He was flickering through scenarios in his head. Cegan had stacked the deck, and it was a fight Nic would need to push every advantage he had to win. Reach was an all-consuming advantage in single sword combat- but Nic had his own tricks to play.

“Ready?” Cegan asked. His face was cold, still as a statue, but there was a trace of a smirk.

“Hey, so I’ve been wondering-” Nic began. Inkspur took off from his shoulder and began to call out his words as the tiny wyvern circled overhead.

“This is not the time-” Cegan began, but Nic bulldozed through.

“Nylea needs to have children before the curse kills her, right? To pass on the mantle? And she’s stuck here, with you. I guess that’s why all of you look at her like a peace of meat…”

“How dare you-”

“So it must really be bothering you to not be the last man on earth, huh? Or worse, that I might actually cure her before you get in that deathbed fuck. Man, you’ve gotta be wondering- would she rather literally die than let it be you?”

Cegan forgot everything. He roared, exploding forward on his jade-green mantis legs, and swiped outwards with his saber. The long curved blade flicked through the air in an oncoming wave of steel.

Nic didn’t even bother to dodge.

He lifted his left arm and let the blow slam down, chopping through muscle and cleaving into bone. He’d pushed his cultivation purely into his legs, blade held out straight, striking like an adder leaping forward. His strength- strength that far exceeded Cegan- carried him through the impact.

His jian-blade slammed into Cegan’s gut, right where the human upper torso met the mantis lower body. Without hesitation, left arm trailing limp in a flow of blood, he used the blade- sticking straight out of Cegan’s belly- to pole-vault himself upwards.

His legs wrapped around Cegan’s neck, squeezing. He hung on like a weight, the mantis-man trying to shake him free as Nic threw open-palm strikes into his face, ramming the heel of his palm against Cegan’s jaw, his eyes, his nose. With each blow he felt fleshy cartilage break, the nose twisting degrees of center, the jaw cracking-

Cegan was screaming, but it was doing him no good as Nic held onto his neck, swinging himself up to ride the man’s shoulders like a wild ape. The long saber was useless in a close quarters grapple, and the guard captain’s scythe-bladed mantis arms couldn’t reach behind his head. His legs constricted down and pressed the veins to either side of Cegan’s throat, making blood pressure surge through the man’s brain in a violent concussive slap delivered straight to the grey matter.

Cegan choked. His tongue stuck out from his open mouth, no sound coming out.

And then he slumped to the ground.