Eric spent long moments trembling with awe and wonder in the highest tree branches within the grove by his cultivation cave, still a good mile from the cultivators, doing all he could to steady himself as he spent a few minutes in careful cultivation, truly feeling the flow of fiery Qi surging through his meridian channels like never before as newfound spiritual vitality surged through him, like a freshly brewed cup of coffee filling him with added vigor.

His eyes lit with manic glee as his Spiritual Energy shot all the way up to 46, the realm’s very potency now flooding his soul. He couldn’t help chuckling from the swaying tree top, delighting in the thought of claiming a totally unexpected yet utterly glorious fortune once more. Especially when he had feared the unexpected intruders presaged only hardship and struggle for him and his young friend.

Yet he quickly found to his dismay that even this boon came at a price, and the promise of almost certain peril. He broke out in a cold sweat and could barely suppress the shiver racing down his spine as furious shrieks tore through the air.

No matter that the quartet of cultivators should have been a good mile away.

“The prizes have been claimed by another! The boons sworn to me have been stolen! Who would dare steal from our clan? Who would dare!?”

Eric froze, quickly pushing his Unified Perception skill to the utmost as he scanned the immediate area for hostiles before sliding down the peach tree just as fast as he could. He then made best use of his Stealth skill to approach where he thought his targets had to be.

His resolve was to approach no further than the limits of his senses, out of range of everything but sight, assuring that anyone with less than his 57 Perception would have a hard time spotting him at all, even if he weren’t using every iota of his mediocre Stealth skill while slinking through the undergrowth. Because it wasn’t about having perfect skills, but understanding himself and his environment, and making the most of the resources and talents at his disposal.

That, and practicing absolute stillness, as hunters had since time immemorial, when he finally spotted his prey.

The flash of well-polished armor catching the sunlight made it easy for Eric to spot four warrior cultivators, all of them kitted in hauberks of exotic looking mail, open-faced helms, and blades that truly did look like a cross between a tachi and the two-handed Swiss sabers his former instructor had so loved tormenting him with, once upon a time.

At that very moment, one of them was leaping back out of the branches of a tree considerably smaller than the one Eric had chosen with a snarl, glaring at the pile of pristine fruit in his arms with a look that was borderline contemptuous. It didn’t stop the other three men from hastily wrapping each one in cloths of silk giving off enough spiritual energy that Eric could sense traces of it, even from where he hid, before packing them away in a gold-lined pouches of leather that he assumed were storage spaces of some sort.

He was momentarily surprised that none of them even thought of eating one for themselves.

But he supposed it made sense. If they were on a mission, they hardly had time to spend days or weeks cycling the fruit’s spiritual essence as they sought equilibrium, balancing upon the knife’s edge of ascension and rupture.

Still, he couldn’t help but wince, more certain than ever that any attempts at negotiation would be fruitless.

Besides, was he really willing to forever forgo the chance to claim the choicest spirit fruit of all? Even if it was guarded by a massive spirit beast that had stunned him with its potency just a handful of weeks ago. He had confidence that eventually he’d be able to take it down. Unfortunately, time was now the one thing he didn’t have.

He took a deep breath as the men cursed and shouted in the distance, forcing himself to gaze at his own reflection in his mind’s eye.

“Am I really willing to risk my life, risk killing four innocent men, for the hope of additional power?”

Eric sighed and shook his head, gazing at the incredible plethora of gloriously plump and full spirit fruit hanging from literally thousands of trees.

Who cared if some arrogant young master wanted the biggest ones he could find? There was an incredible bounty of Fire Peaches as far as the eye could see. Tens, perhaps hundreds of thousands. And all he needed was the handful he had claimed for himself… and another dozen for someone he could only pray would one day be able to make use of his bounty.

Who the hell was he to cut down men just doing their job, men who might have no choice but to obey harsh masters Eric was thankfully free of, just for the sake of grabbing slightly larger fruit?

He swallowed the lump of envy in his throat, feeling oddly relieved as he prepared to step forward, already knowing what he would say.

Even with sweetest temptation before him, there were lines he wouldn’t cross. And even if he had to fight to hold back a tiny smile at the thought of his own backdoor to power, consolation to what he would willingly surrender, at least he could take comfort that, when all was said and done, he was an honorable person.

One able to rise above the bloodthirsty savagery he found himself all too often embracing these days. One just had to look at the countless bounty of spirit fruit all around them to realize that there was more than enough for even ten thousand cultivators. Eric was sure that this was one situation where they could all walk away winners.

So it was with a hopeful heart that Eric made his presence known, stepping out of the periphery of the grove and onto the central flower-lined path running through the heart of the grove and leading to his sanctuary.

But it was only when he cleared his throat twice, the second time quite loudly, that he finally garnered the attention of the quartet of level 30 cultivators, their hot-eyed gazes immediately snapping on to his own.

No matter that he was still several hundred yards away.

Because for all that he hoped for a compromise where everyone walked away happy…

He wasn’t so stupid as to try negotiating without a little bit of a head start.

Just in case.

“Excuse me! I assume you guys are also here for the spirit fruit?” He said, tongue tripping only for a few moments over words that were alien and strange until his Finesse score, Scholarship, and Interface Enhancements made this exotic tongue as natural to him as thinking and speaking in English.

Flashing his brightest smile at the cold-eyed glares his words earned, he casually gestured to the shimmering golden prizes glowing with potent fiery Qi so intently that Eric could safely hunt day or night under their gentle glow, doing his best to look as nonthreatening as possible, taking their utter silence as a positive sign.

“It seems to me that we are absolutely surrounded by all the greater Fire Qi peaches any cultivator, or sect, could hope for.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “But I’m guessing you gentlemen are after something else.” He flashed a knowing smile. “Let me guess. You’re after more than just a handful of spirit fruit. You want whatever prizes are guarded by the guardian of this entire pocket realm. Well, you’re in luck! I happen to know what direction that beast lies in! So let me propose a trade. I’ll point you in the right direction, and you all, and whatever sect you represent, agree to let me and my companion leave in peace, with whatever peaches we pluck, minus whatever elite prizes you gentlemen are after.”

Eric swallowed under the hard, unforgiving gazes being sent his way, none of them so much as blinking, let alone saying a word. Still, he did his best to ignore the flood of adrenaline roaring through his blood as he gave them his most winning smile. “So just give me your word, and I’ll happily point you in the right direction, saving you perhaps days of effort. By the time you head back this way, me and mine will be long gone, absolutely no skin off your back and a potential headache removed.”

Eric stared at the four men for long moments, pretending their icy gazes weren’t the killing glares of men dissecting him with spite-filled eyes, even as he slowly positioned his naked hands in front of himself, left in front, free of any weapons.

“As you can see, I come in peace. So what do you say, gentlemen? Do we have a deal?”

For a brief moment, his pounding heart eased with hope for a peaceful resolution as the leader, dubbed Scar in his mind with his hawklike gaze and the inflamed red scar marring his features, tilted his head, gazing thoughtfully at Eric.

Before his eyes widened with something Eric swore was absolute hate.

“Thief! You’ve already claimed peaches from our grove! I can sense the fire in your soul. You stole titles sworn to me as the First Servant of my clan. For that crime, there can only be death. Kill the Roundear!” Scar roared, and Eric was chilled by how fast they raced, two hundred yards rapidly cut in half in the blink of an eye by what could only be a movement technique.

Fright and an idealist’s despair quickly turned to a tactician’s jaded smile as time seemed to stretch and slow, inhuman Finesse, Perception, and Quickness working its magic once more as Eric dared to face down four cultivators blessed with exotic movement techniques and blades that had torn open a massive spirit boar with Qi alone.

But what they most certainly didn’t have were silly-looking outstretched hands that were somehow positioned perfectly for an instantly summoned arcane blaster pretty damned close in size and weight to the M82 tactical sniper rifle, shooting hot fiery beams of plasma death, instead of 50 calibre rounds.

Rounds which tore through legs which were most definitely not covered in shimmering shirts of mail Eric’s Unified Perception made clear were extremely powerful magical treasures, but rather infused magical beast hides that might or might not be perfect for defeating glancing blows of cutting Wind Qi unleashed by a desperate opponent eager to draw any blood at all, but did absolutely nothing against beams of hot death cleaving through the legs of no less than three cultivators as Eric made full use of his stats and skills, finding fierce satisfaction at the trio of screams as his would-be executioners crashed to the ground.

You have critically struck 3 Enemy Cultivators with Mark II Deathblaze!

Three Enemy cultivators have been crippled! One has lost both legs! Spray blasts (5 charges each) have been successfully used to sear through flesh and bone!

You now have 126 charges remaining.

All save for a roaring scar, radiating absolute killing intent as he leaped over the plasma fire, drawing and striking out with his blade in the blink of an eye.

Eric’s instincts screamed, sensing death come for him, and how Scar’s eyes widened when the exquisitely deadly blade he wielded clanged against a weapon forged only of chitten, sapwood, Eric’s essence infused blood, and a young crafter’s desperation, actually managed to parried the blow.

But not without cost.

“Impossible!” The cultivator snarled, seeming as surprised by Eric’s speed as the parried blow, but Eric had already darted back, sensing the hairline crack in his weapon’s shaft.

An artifact he had absolutely no time to repair in his storage space in the split seconds his fate would be decided.

Eric’s heart continued to pound, face lighting up in the sweet mad rictus of deadly peril he swore was exhilaration as his opponent took his measure for long moments while circling Eric, teasing him with the swirling tip of a blade Eric knew was a hell of a lot longer than 3 feet, spat once, and charged forward yet again, roaring as he lashed out with a mad flurry of blows.

Only this time, Eric’s didn’t dare let his weapon touch the actual blade, the unearthly alloy so wickedly sharp and infused with Qi that Eric had no doubt it could now cleave even his essence-infused weapon in two.

His earlier parry had caught his contemptuous foe off guard. The furious swings of Scar’s two-handed sword now glowing with spiritual energy made it clear that wouldn’t be happening again.

Strength modified skillcheck successful!

Instead he backed up an additional step, focusing only on parrying the Qi-infused air projecting from the tip, desperately struggling to always keep his bardiche between himself and the swirling tip of steel, his weapon vibrating madly with each jet of air he somehow managed to intercept and cut.

Jets he only now clearly saw as ghostly doubles of his foe’s Wind-aligned blade as his Unified Perception at last pinpointed what was before him, just in for him to see the wind blade his bardiche had been ready to counter disappear before he could disrupt it.

His sneering foe, however, was already thrusting forward, his Qi blade instantly manifesting for a spearing thrust before a surprised Eric could reposition his bardiche to counter, never having had to fight an opponent who could make half the length of his weapon disappear and reappear at will.

At least, not until now.

Unified Perception check successful! You have successfully spotted Wind Blade.

You have been critically struck by Wind Blade!

Dominion essence-infused armor mitigates damage. Qi Resistance mitigates damage.

You have saved versus organ rupture!

You have taken 1 Serious Wound.

Eric grunted when his abdomen blazed with sudden flame, earning a spiteful grin from his foe.

“How does it feel to be speared by air, fool?” Scar roared, having sensed the flaw in Eric’s technique as he lashed out with a flurry of feints and thrusts. Because it was far harder for Eric to intercept a three foot projection of Wind Qi lancing out in the blink of an eye, than it was to predict and counter a blade swing any mortal warrior could at least see.

And a stumbling Eric didn’t hesitate to cry out and whimper.

Exactly what his foe expected as his eyes glittered in anticipation of his kill, lunging forward to run Eric through.

Only to blink in surprise when Eric stepped forward as well, his bardiche whipping through the air in a perfectly coordinated strike that had the wickedly sharp back spike delivering the force and fury of a 74 Strength Adept Tier master of his weapon. Striking with every ounce of speed and power that 67 Quickness with allow, his inhuman Vitality allowing him to temporarily ignore his grievous injury.

The only thing more surprising than the second sharp burst of pain now ripping through him was that his explosive strike hadn’t torn completely through Scar’s armored forearm holding a sword that had still managed to pierce Eric’s entrails.

Yet Eric’s interface made it clear he had not only shattered the man’s forearm, but he had pulpified the wrist. Just as it made clear that he had just been effectively disemboweled, Scar having deliberately widened his first blow, no doubt eager to make Eric suffer with as grizzly a death as he could inflict. Because blood loss and organ rupture now killing Eric faster than even his 5.3 health per second regeneration could compensate for.

Tasting death’s mocking laughter just a single despairing collapse away, Eric did the only thing he could as his opponent’s eyes widened with pain-filled disbelief, agony forcing Scar to glance down at his shattered forearm, splinters of bone splattering blood as it flopped around like a wet noodle. Eric’s ears rang as Scar began shrieking like a babe, and the only thing Eric could do was continue rushing forward, desperate to end the fight NOW with a powerful overhand blow even Sam would have been proud of, his corkscrew punch exploding into the open-faced helm of his foe with such force that Scar’s skull snapped back with an audible crack before his body windmilled like a ragdoll through the air, before collapsing in a motionless heap.

Eric ignored the cries of dismay from the three crippled cultivators as a furiously snarling Eric forced himself to endure excruciating agony for a few more seconds, quickly summoning his white-hot javelins and plunged them one after another into his foe’s exposed neck and the crushed remains of his face with a snarl.

He embraced a wounded predator’s instincts even as blaring interface messages and the gore on his fist made it clear that the man was already dead. Only then did he crash to the ground, fearsome strength turning to a hideous feeling of weakness and indescribable pain as things that should be kept inside his body at all costs began pouring to the ground.

Congratulations! You have slain a Level 30 Wind Cultivator! Experience Earned!

For successfully besting your foe in sanctified martial combat, you have earned rights to all his worldly possession! No enemy clan may contest your claim!

Your Foundation will not be strained by claiming his artifacts!

Warning! You have been critically struck twice by your enemy’s blade!

You are presently suffering from: Disembowelment.

Damage exceeds basic regeneration rate!

Recommend healing intervention (or coma-induced slumber) immediately!

Eric swallowed his suddenly parched throat, suddenly so dizzy he could no longer stand, sensing his body desperately trying to pull him into some sort of recuperative state that just might save his life.

Willpower check successful!

Before a blare of alarm blazed through his soul, exquisite perception making it clear that his fallen 3 foe’s sobs for mercy had been replaced by hungry silence, Eric forcing dying eyes open to gaze upon the trio of crippled cultivators glaring Eric’s way with glittering hate-filled eyes and mocking smiles.

“It’s only a matter of time before you collapse, Roundeared bastard!” The closest snarled, before whimpering at the pain of his hastily turniqueted leg-stumps.

Even worse, the man beside him, with one leg cleaved completely through but the other more than capable of scooting him Eric’s way, drew his blade. “I will cut your head off myself, abomination! But before I do that, I will tear out every inch of your spurting entrails, before hunting down your entire clan!”

Eric coughed blood, flashing a bitter smile. “I think you assholes are forgetting something,” he whispered as he fought to open his eyes against narrowing tunnel vision, earning a snear from the rapidly closing cultivator who, much to Eric’s dismay, was just seconds away from Eric, blade already drawn and radiating a howling whirlwind of Qi while he stumbled forward on one leg.

Before the cultivator cried out in sudden panic, for agony and the fury of battle and the despair of seeing his lord fall clearly having distracted him from one crucial point.

Eric still had a soul-linked blaster rifle.

One he put to furious, desperate use even as his vision narrowed and blackness crushed him to oblivion.

He barely heard the howls of pain or screams for mercy, desperate jerking long pulls his final chance of escaping oblivion… or at least, not dying before the boars had a chance to gore him open anew.

And if a sudden flood of partial-credit experience flooding his damaged body had actually been enough to jerk him to lucidity just long enough to summon the last dregs of his one remaining health potion right into his mouth, Eric could only pray that it would be enough, grateful beyond words that his blossoming Extra Storage Space skill meant that summoning visualized shapes he had stored away was now as easy as thinking it.

Yet his final thoughts as he slipped away weren’t of himself, strangely enough, but desperate worry for a now isolated Sam and his own twin sister. He could only pray she could survive a world where orc slavers and butchers had formed an unholy alliance with goblins doing all they could to assassinate key defenders before wiping out the Sylvan Alliance entirely.

Even as he sensed himself slipping ever closer to death, he could all too imagine her desperate screams as elven healers once more flooded her perforated body with magic. Their wounds were eerily similar, Eric sensed in the odd awful lucidity of a twin’s connection… even if circumstances and location put them literally worlds apart.

In that lingering, awful moment, one horrible truth stood out among all others.

Too many foes wanted them both dead. And their enemies were willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.

It was a death Eric sensed quickly looming, his spirit alone howling furious protest as the clock of his soul ticked the seconds away.

Desperate spirit-fingers clamping tight ruptured arteries and vicious remnants of Wind-Qi that had lacerated his insides so utterly.

And just when Death’s laughter rang the loudest, the echo of nerves beginning to die off in his ears as hypoxia and organ collapse meant his brain was less than 3 minutes away from oblivion, his soul rang with a message completely unexpected.

A message he might have received a dozen times before, only he had been lost in dreams, not the final moments of his dying mind, so had never registered it before.

24-Vitality Hours (minimum 1) spent in hibernation registered.

System reset in effect.

Congratulations! You have been fully restored!