It was fast becoming clear that Dorian’s current strength level was not going to cut it.

Not by far.

He was at best as strong as that other Oasis Lord. The one who’d gotten wiped off the face of the plane by that blast of Fire Law. And that was one Sky-Realm dragon, among a dozen! And what’s more—

There was Nijo to contend with. And whatever else human experts the Ugoc had.

It was enough to make Dorian’s head spin.

He had just two weeks to slap together a plan to counter all that?! There was no technology he could dream up that fast that was up to the task. No elixir, either. Even if he could pull some Uber-cannon out of his ass, it’d need a lengthy construction process.

Two. Weeks.

There was simply no time!

Two weeks was not enough time to touch on a Dao, and infuse his Core with it. Even for Dorian that project would take a month. And he’d need the right environs, the right materials, the right insights… nope. Not happening.

There was, in the end, only one path Dorian saw. And that path led him here.

He paused, arms crossed, before a gate composed of two sheets of the corrugated steel so big they could’ve made up one side of a fortress by themselves. The gates led into a high, spiked wall which towered over the buildings of the nearby streets. The place this wall encircled was Dorian’s target.

A squadron of guards in Heilong garb flanked the gates to either side. Two of them rushed up to him as he drew near.

“Halt!” cried one. “This is a restricted zone! Anyone who wishes to access the Sinkhole needs Special Clearance by way of the Governor or General Heilong himself! Produce your identification, interloper!”

Then Dorian pulled back the hood of his cloak, letting the noon sunlight illuminate him. Dorian waved a hand in front of his face. “Is this good enough?”

One guard gasped. The other stood frozen, gaping. “Of course, Hero!” cried the non-frozen guard. “Our deepest apologies—forgives this one’s poor eyes for, ah, failing to recognize your honored self—“

“Yes, yes,” said Dorian, waving an impatient hand. “Let me through, will you!”

The guard made a fist. “Open the gates!”

A huge lever lay by the door’s side. It took the strength of four men to pull it. Then the dam broke down the middle, slowly swiveling open, groaning with a grating of stone and a hollow clattering of massive, hidden gears.

“Thanks!” Dorian started on through. To either side of him, the rows of guards bowed down as he passed. He smirked. After months upon months of being treated like a diseased dog, it was nice to flex his status for once.

A pity he had such a short time to enjoy it…

“Sire?” called the guard’s tepid voice from behind.

Dorian stopped. “What?”

“May I—if it is not too presumptuous of my humble self—inquire what you plan on doing here?”

“What else? Entering the Sinkhole.” Dorian left out the part about probing its depths. The part about seeking out the source of his Bloodline, so that he could power a deep well of Bloodline-burning—and rocket himself high, high, high-up. To irresponsible, unstable heights, honestly! Heights that no Earth Realm practitioner should ever reach without proper grounding in a Dao.

In a perfect world, Dorian would bring up his cultivation and Dao insights in tandem. He’d blend the two like interwoven strings into a wondrous tapestry of being, and be all the more powerful for it.

In this world, on the other hand, he was about to go all-in on sheer cultivation. It was the difference between gaining muscle slowly and responsibly, keeping up a lean physique—and eating every last scrap of meat in sight, and bloating up to a fat blobby mess.

In other words, it time to become a whale! Or so he hoped. Who knew if this heaving blubber of power would be enough to contend with even a fraction of the Ugoc forces? And who knew if there was that much Bloodline in this Sinkhole—or if it was even accessible by him?

Either way, the idea—the stupid, ridiculous, long shot idea—had him at once eager and desperate.

“How deep do you wish to go?”

Ah, yes. There was still this guard, frowning bushily at him. Better shoo him off.

“Not very,” said Dorian casually. For if he admitted the truth—that he was going deep and possibly disturbing a maybe-Demigod at the center of Azlan’s water supply—which was the foundation of the whole of the Oasis, in a desert—

The Oasis Lord might not take well it.

“Ah, good, good,” said the guard, breathing a relieved sigh.

“Why do you ask?”

“Sire, it is forbidden by decree of the Oasis Lord not to go past 50 arm-spans.” The guard shuffled about, looking nervous. “That is where all the fishing, the harvesting water-crop, the growing of kelp, the pumping of aqueducts—all that occurs above this depth! As you descend past, to 100 spans…”

He gulped. “That is where the trouble begins.”

“Oh?” Dorian perked up. “Do tell.”

“The deeper you go, the more qi-rich the waters become. And as a consequence… the more powerful the Spirit Beasts within. At the surface the greatest dangers are spearfish. But past 100 spans you may encounter the lesser Gunk Eels—Profound Realm beasts, one and all, and horribly toxic besides! They seldom rise to the surface, but their nests plague the region.”

“Hmm. Noted.” Profound Realm eels were but bugs to bat away for him at this point, no matter how toxic they were. “Anything else I should know about in there?”

“Well…” The guard swallowed. “Past 150 spans you enter the Eel King’s territory. Therein lie Earth-Realm Beasts—drakes, water-wyrms… perhaps, if you’re particularly unlucky, even a dragon turtle. Their cores are precious, but the risks far outweigh them. No-one has been to those depths in over a century. And if you’re very unlucky you may meet the Eel-King himself. And no-one has survived to speak of him.”

“Gotcha.” Things were getting slightly concerning. “What else?”

“…We don’t know.”

Dorian raised a brow. “Explain.”

“Err, you see, sire,” said the guard, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. “No-one who has gone that far has come back alive. The last who attempted it was a team of peak Earth-Realm experts, centuries ago. Top Rankers all—among them the Oasis Lord’s genius nephew, Yilei Zhang, who—it was rumored—was a half-step into the Sky Realm! Their bodies floated to the surface hours later, pulverized to mush.”

“Huh.”

“That incident is what prompted the Oasis Lord to institute the depth ban.” The guard hesitated. “You ah—forgive my impudence—you are planning to respect it, yes?”

Dorian looked scandalized. “What sort of ruffian do you think I am? Of course! I am the Hero of the Oasis! I would never break rules.” I put his hand over his chest. “I shall stay above your limit. I swear it on my honor!”

The guard still looked a little hesitant, but he could hardly push it now. Not when Dorian had sworn on his honor. That would be flagrantly disrespectful.

“Of course, sire.” Bowing, he withdrew.

With that little obstruction cleared, Dorian happily marched into the Sinkhole proper. Behind him the heavy gates swung shut.

Time to make a god bleed!

Or—more realistically, if Dorian was honest—scrounge around for little Blood droplets that god left behind at the Sinkhole’s unknown depths. The Sinkhole itself was spread before him now: a vast circle of crystalline blue, shimmering lustily in the sunlight. Great metal tubes—the pumps of the aqueducts—fed into it, sucking in gouts of water that thundered as they streamed up the metal. All along the perimeter were little farming projects: floats of multicolored crop soaking up the rich qi of the Sinkhole. Thick forests of kelp floated about, its dark-green tips bobbing up to the surface.

Dorian set foot at the edge and stared into the abyss. Clear as the water was, past a certain depth it grew darker, murkier, thicker. If Dorian squinted he thought he could make out the vague outlines of huge, scaly bodies shifting among the deepest lines of kelp.

But those weren’t what he was looking for. He cast his senses for something deeper—a subtle resonance that he’d felt each time he neared this Sinkhole. A resonance that’d grown into a deep, mighty thrumming which rattled the very particles that made up his being. He felt like a plucked string. He licked his lips.

This was no normal resonance. That much was certain.

He breathed deep, rubbing his hands. Here goes nothing!

Ker-plunk!

***

Father Zacharias watched, helpless, as the idiot a month into training tore apart his most gifted young acolytes one-by-one. With such—such absurd ease!

“HRNGGG!” groaned poor Ptu, paling as he hunched over, hopelessly cradling the soggy remains of his ballsack. He’d been Zacharias’s latest, greatest, hope. Alas—he now joined the roomful of groaning boys rolling about on the ground, mourning the deaths of their fertilities with whimpers and drawn-out moans.

The girl really liked inflicting pain. Liked it far too much for any proper disciple of Jez! And once she’d found this little anatomical loophole, she was downright vicious in her exploitation.

Even Zacharias himself shivered, unconsciously drawing his legs a little closer together.

“Awesome!” Kaya bared her teeth ate him. Her whole body was wreathed in shining gold. “I think I’ve got the hang of it. What next?”

Zacharias sucked in a sharp breath. What have I done?

“Let’s pivot to another aspect of Jez’s training,” he said quickly. “Jez’s cultivation is distinct from all the methods you know! To access it, you must tap into your inner self—that which is connected to the soul of Mighty Jez. Rather than channel its power directly, you must draw it into your core and circulate it.”

“Huh.” She cocked her head.

He was about to suggest she try a few training exercises to familiarize herself with the qi pathways. He was about to suggest she first spend the afternoon practicing drawing the powers of Jez into her meridians. He was about to say It will likely take you months, or even years—

But he swallowed it all. What the hells did he know? This girl wasn’t human!

“Why don’t you try it out?” he said, weakly.

She beamed. “Okay!”

She closed her eyes, frowning, puffing out her cheeks in concentration.

In an instant it was like a furnace had been set ablaze within her—a furnace of sheer gold qi.

“Careful!” cried Zacharias, reaching out. Suddenly she was burning up with it, gold aura shedding off her in thick waves, too much for her form to hold; she coughed, eyes widening, and rather than air gold qi spewed from her mouth.

She fainted.

Tentatively, as though touching some fatally wounded predator, Zacharias poked her. Her skin was scalding hot—

—and she’d risen, in the space of a second, from the very base of the Profound Realm nearly to mid-Profound!

Zacharias felt his head spinning. This…

What the hells—apologies, great Jez—what in Jez’s holy name is this nonsense?!

Then Kaya’s eyes fluttered open. Coughing, she propped herself back up and grinned. “Hey! Did I get it right?”

“I—yes,” he stammered. “But, ah I must caution you—do not go that fast in the future! Come to think of it—do not cultivate for at least the next day. Your body at present—it’s…that stunt nearly melted you down from the inside. Even now, your skin is only held together by Jez’s light!”

An issue I’ve never seen a single follower of Jez have to deal with. Until now.

Zacharias’s head was spinning. The girl simply didn’t make any sense!

She blinked. “Oh. Okay.”

“Another thing.” Zacharias swallowed. He had to get this in early, before she got too deep—too strong, too stuck in her ways to heed his words. “It is of vital importance that you pair Jez’s powers with kindness,” he said sternly. “You mustn’t misuse the light of Jez. It is against his most basic teaching!”

“…but I thought you said to stay true to myself?” She frowned.

“Precisely so. That is the key to all of Jez’s theory.”

“But what if my true self is that I really like hurting people?”

“That…” Zacharias paused. “That, erm, is not supposed to be the case. The teachings of Jez reveal that the true self within all of us is really our shared humanity. It is the benevolence and reason which govern the human Spirit! That is what connects all of us. One for all. All for one.”

“Huh.” Kaya squinted at him. “I don’t buy it.”

Zacharias choked on his spit. “You can’t simply— that’s—that is not how it works! This is theory. The foundation of Jez’s scripture.”

“Yeah, or so you’re telling me.” She jabbed a finger at him. “How long did it take you to get your whole body golden, huh, old coot?”

“… eight months.”

“Well, it took me an hour. So why should I listen to you?”

“…”

“Thought so!” She put her hands on her hips and looked up at the ceiling. It was as though she could see through the wood into the other, higher chambers of the Church. The ones with Jez’s Techniques. The ones with his treasures.

“So. What else have you got for me?”

“I…”

Zacharias’s mouth had gone bone-dry. … Just what kind of monster have I created?!

And then, with considerably more despair as he watched her strolling about, prowling for more nuts to crush—

And why did it have her? How in the Nine Hells did she deserve to receive such an affinity?! The girl’s an idiot!