The Dao of Magic: Book III Read online

  “Alright. See you later!”

  “Bye!” Selis waves at me as I drop down from Tree’s branch. I turn around and land softly on the ground, pushing against the ground with my mind and will to stop my fall. I smile widely. I missed being able to influence the universe with the power of just my mind.

  It feels pretty good.

  I spot Rhea walking around, still looking sleepy with rumpled clothes and messy hair. I walk up to her and start fixing her appearance. “I know that you’re a dragon and care little for human weaknesses, such as appearance, but this just looks slovenly.” I tut as she bats my hands away.

  She starts glaring at me, but my grin makes her smile too. “I’m off to bother the king of Shie-Eit.”

  She shrugs. “He’s a lion surrounded by snakes. Scavenging snakes who depend on him without wanting that to be known.”

  I quirk an eyebrow. “Why so?”

  “The Flight has an agreement with the First Defender. The mages also. The nobles keep trying to usurp him, but they are ignored by both parties that matter.”

  “That actually makes sense now! He’s so angry and pissed off all the time. He is invincible but powerless. This is going to be fun. What are you going to do?”

  “Ket and his braincore cronies have been doing all this theoretical stuff without thinking of the practical applications. I think that’s stupid.”

  “Ah, the good old science for science sake versus applied science argument. Fundamental research is good; applying those discoveries is also good. Have fun!” I give her a kiss and a slap on the ass. I stroll off before she can get her hands on me.

  “Drew! Give me rights!”

  I halt as she shouts at me. “What rights? And call me Teach you stupid dragon.”

  “Database rights. You might want to fuck off and muck about with the world while leaving this place to govern itself; I do not have such faith in mundane beings.” A trace of the dragon she truly is once again comes to the surface, a condescending sneer on her face.

  What’s the worst that could happen, I ask myself. I mentally shrug my shoulders and give her administrative rights to Database. “Okay. You now have access to all info and missions. Don’t go power crazy, please.”

  She nonchalantly waves at me while striding off, heading towards the library. I admire her retreating assets before heading towards the moon.

  ⁂

  “GODS SHITTING ON THE TOWER AND IN THE HOLE FUCKWIPE HORSESHIT MAGES!” Roaring furiously, the noble and elevated king, the First Defender of the human kingdom Shi-Eit and revered representative of the mage isles curses some more.

  “THE ENTIRE FUCKING ASS WORLD IS GOING TO SHIT, AND THESE FUCKING VERMIN WOULD KILL EACH OTHER BETWEEN THE DUNGEON FORSAKEN FRAGMENTS FOR THE CRUMBS, RAAAAAHHH!”

  His speech becomes illegible as he devolves into screaming random noises. Alone in his sprawling royal chambers, he suddenly stops and runs to his chamber doors.

  His paranoia is unfounded this time, as he sees no-one outside except for a few of his guards, he closes the door again and checks the balcony door. Not seeing a soul, he continues cursing with a reassured heart.

  “AND THESE ASSWIPE DUNGEON CURSED IDEAS GAVE ME HOPE, LETTING ME FORGET THAT I…” He pulls a small green coin from a pocket, looking at it with a complicated expression on his reddened face. “That I don’t actually hold any mana-scourged power.”

  He sighs deeply, dragging a hand across his face. He traces his thumb across the smooth stone drawing on the small coin. He moves to put it to his forehead once again but stops. He knows the mental information by heart already. “Knowledge without the power to use said knowledge is worse than ignorance.”

  “Man, do I have great timing or what?”

  The king freezes for a split second, his face turning into a macabre mask of hate and anger. Green and red strands of power shimmer across his frame as he moves inhumanly fast towards a rack of weapons. He levels a sword into a guarded stance as his eyes scan his chambers.

  “Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” sounds a voice that somehow immediately gets on the king’s nerves. “I gave you that green coin a while back.”

  Lowering his stance, the king watches as a bearded man steps through his balcony doors. Did he drop in from the roof? Not likely, the wall above the royal veranda is smooth, and the roof is guarded at all times. From below? Is he an escaped dungeon slave maybe?

  The king at this moment is neither a regal king nor a fuming foul mouth. Every strand of muscle on his body is tensed and ready to strike, the little mana he has access to is roaring through his system. The intruder and the king study each other for a long moment.

  “Why give me this information?” Growls the king between clenched teeth.

  “You seemed frustrated,” comes the reply

  “You taunt me with unachievable theoreticals!”

  “Ah, no. That was not my intention.”

  The king studies the interloper. He sports a short black beard and medium length dark hair in an unruly mop. His blue-grey eyes seem to shine in the dim room. Simple clothing adorns a thin, tall frame — a single black ring on his finger is his only accessory, and there appears to be a bunny on his shoulder.

  A white, dungeon-fucked rabbit with a red lock of hair on its forehead on his fucking shoulder.

  The king throws his hands up in the air, dropping the sword. “Please take this seriously.”

  A smile now splits the tall man’s face. “Ha-ha, I knew I liked you. How irritating are the nobles these days? And why did the mages leave?”

  The king is unsure how to react as the man’s demeanour changes. Previously, he was an unseen figment, hard to perceive. Now he seems a simple man, perfectly relaxed as he seats himself in one of the room’s chairs. “I’ve got a proposal. I’ve found that my explanations focus on the wrong things, usually, so please take a look at this.”

  The king catches the piece of clear green stone thrown his way, eyeing it with suspicion. The strange man is now playing with his rabbit. The king suppresses a shiver. That animal just doesn’t look natural.

  “Where did all the mages go, by the way?” the man asks. “The entire magical wing of this castle is empty.”

  “Our… most noble… mage representative deigned to inform me that the mage council had issued a general recall. Who knows what those crazy bastards are thinking anyway.” The king then holds the green stone against his forehead, the familiar yet alien feeling of knowledge residing outside his mind springs into focus.

  The next few minutes, he spends in absolute silence. The king is completely enraptured by the new information flooding his mind; a primer on three different systems of energy gathering named ‘cultivation’. A small addendum shows him that other systems are also viable, two examples being a meridian based flow pattern and a method based on one’s skeleton. Other than an encouragement to experiment, no additional information is provided.

  There is information about a method of producing power from simply breathing, the taking in, and the conversion of airborne mana. Another section of data talks about the dangers of uncontrolled qi and how to prevent such energy contaminations.

  Before diving deeper into the esoteric knowledge, the king snaps his focus back on the present. He opens his mouth, only to be silenced by the total lack of a conversation partner. The chair where the man was sitting is empty, a small glowing orb laying on the armrest being the only proof that there was a visitor in the first place.

  Picking up the orb, the king recognises the small ball of condensed power as qi. Inside the glowing ethereal object, he sees a black ring embedded with a minuscule piece of silver on its edge. Imagining the possibilities of personal strength, he clenches his hand a bit too tight. The orb shatters, his surprised inhalation sucking up the wisps of power. The ring does not fall to the ground; it instead snakes its way onto one of the king’s empty fingers.

  Trembling, he remembers the small bit of information about qi poisoning. The king then proceeds to fr
eak the fuck out.

  Stories about their ruler being unusually eccentric circulate the guard barracks later that day. The one guard who checked in on the king is silent, unwilling to talk about the shit fest that the royal bathroom had become.

  chapter two

  Drafting

  The previously neat and silent library is in chaos. The majority of the math and number obsessed cult people are walking this way and that, hauling stacks of books and paper. Others are hunched over desks, reading or scribbling notes. A quiet buzz of conversation saturates everything as people discuss and study.

  Ket is rubbing his eyes, dark rings painting a dark contrast to his pale skin. “Why are they all here? Why are they not asking Dee-Bee for this info?” He sighs deeply while looking around.

  Ferah is sitting on a large pile of books, a blade of grass in her mouth. “Ooh, I know this one! Lots of people are saying that learning from the green stones makes it hard to remember. When are we continuing the quest? I want to get back to Goodsummer.”

  “You hail from Goodsummer, little one?” Rodrick is also present, his axe slung in a loop on his side. “I heard those Luzden-” He spits on the ground. “-nobles-” then he spits again before continuing, “-talking about raiding that village next.”

  Rodrick then turns to Ket. “I learned that killing is forbidden until solid core under penalty of expulsion, but what stage is that for me? I really want to take care of some unfinished business.” This whole time, the large beastkin’s thumb has been caressing the edge of his axe. His usually friendly smile is now showing a few too many teeth.

  Ket pauses his one-person pity party long enough to notice the menace radiating from Rodrick. “How would I know? There are no standards for measuring the cultivation base except for observing the form it takes. Some guys are working on a method to quantify qi, but there is very little practical data about that. Only esoteric nonsense.”

  Ket glances at Ferah, who is holding her puffed-up tail as she sidles away from Rodrick. “Stop scaring Ferah, Rodrick. And give all the relevant data to Database. It will probably generate an information-gathering quest. Killing people randomly is inefficient. I must give Teach that much credit. Finding the party truly responsible and making a clear example of them is a much more prudent way of handling things of this nature.”

  The group turns in unison as a newcomer bursts into view.

  “Ket, we keep finding them! These prime numbers, they just don’t stop, and that is a problem. Also, we’ve got pi solved to the thousandth digit now, but it’s getting harder. Ferd went loopy when trying a new method he found. We had to put him on the moon to depower his brain.” The suddenly babbling intruder - a thin blue-skinned female - is now the focus of everyone’s attention. She splendidly ignores all the eyes on her and continues in a breathless voice.

  “We are still working on whether or not polyhedral can be cut up and reassembled into any other polyhedral. That’s a fun one. I and a few others of the Follower of Numbers are working on gravity as a problem. There was some good data in Database, but Teach’s teachings are imprecise as always. I really don’t want to start messing with infinities, but it seems like we will have to in order to explain the movement of some of the other planets in the solar system. I think that was all the news? Yeah? Yeah! Goodbye, Beloved One of Numbers, I will return with more glorious science!”

  Bowing deeply to a very fed up Ket, the woman scurries off towards the darker alcoves, deeper into the library. Rubbing his tired eyes once again, Ket sighs very deeply.

  “Gooooodsummer, Goodsummer, Goodsummer!” Ferah starts singing.

  “Alright, I too want to get out of here.” Ket starts walking towards the library door, only to be stopped by a hand grasping his collar.

  “Oh no, you are not going anywhere.” Grinning like a cat who caught a mouse, Re-Haan dangles Ket in front of her. “We are going down there, into that den filled with those poor people who are lost in the numbers, and we are going to steer them in a… more practical direction.”

  Ket starts protesting with fervour. “That is not optimal. Their theories are helping science forwa-”

  “Shh, little boy. Come, let this old dragon show you how to rule people. You with the axe. Ferah, you come along too. This will help you as well.”

  Half dragging the trio of cultivators behind her, Rhea makes her way into the deeper sections of the library. The stacks of books and shelves grow taller. Soon, a wide staircase leading down the library’s depths becomes visible.

  “They have been expanding, I see.” Still smiling too widely, Rhea strides down the steps. Dark cellars come into view. Papers, books, and scribbles are everywhere. Robed figures can be seen mumbling to themselves as their eyes glow with circulating power.

  Dropping Ket, Re-Haan stands still for a bit, unmoving. Thin tendrils of purple translucent power seep out of her form, sinking into the stone around her. The small group follows her shuffle around a bit as the atmosphere grows increasingly awkward.

  Then a shudder runs through the entire structure. Dust falls from the low ceiling as stones move by themselves, their mortar bindings crumbling to dust. Large slabs of stone grind themselves into new positions, restructuring the dark catacombs. Small droplets of sweat start beading across Re-Haan’s forehead as she focuses intensely.

  Everyone in the library can feel the power radiating from her slender frame as they all stop moving and fall silent. Wide eyes stare as the library remodels itself, the roof opening up to let light spill inside. The walls grow taller and thinner while the theme of the building stays the same - white marble cut in simple lines.

  Minutes later, the outside of the library looks much the same, while the inside has undergone a drastic restructuring. Instead of narrow shelves stacked with books, the building now has a central open space. The sun shines down into the building, lighting up the circular walkways surrounding the column of open air.

  At the bottom of this reversed cone of open space, surrounded by light reflecting from pristine white stone, stands Re-Haan. Her white hair floats in the purple-tinged power swirling around her. The round railings are swarmed with people as they all stare down at her.

  “Much better this way, I think.” Smiling widely, she basks in the sunlight.

  “What about rain?” Asks Ket.

  “Ah, it does rain these days, right? No problem!” Slightly flustered, Re-Haan waves her hands a bit. A transparent dome spins into place above the hole in the roof, faint words moving across its surface.

  “Thank you for that contribution… Ket…” Smiling again, Re-Haan turns back to the crowd looking down on her. “I have noticed a trend of theorising just to theorise. That is a commendable thing to do if it weren’t for the myriad of real problems that are still unsolved. You Fuckers of Numbers are thinking up the thousandth digit of a number in which the tenth digit behind the decimal is already useless for practical purposes. Here are some real problems. Solve those before indulging yourselves in such mental masturbation.”

  Waving another hand, a purple board appears. Re-Haan points at problem number one, named ‘The end of the fucking world through rampant qi.’ “This is a great example. Drew, also named Teach, has thought up a solution. A wonderfully over-thought solution involving mass production of near-autonomous flying objects that would monitor the entire world. While it would indeed partially solve the horrendous lack of information about the planet we are on, it’s also very inefficient.”

  Pausing for effect, a soft murmur starts up immediately. “Problem number two is also something that we will need to fix quickly. The qi levels here have been dropping ever since Teach decided to give you rabble access to qi. We will all be dead long before the amount of energy in this pocket dimension grows sufficient to allow us all to extend our lifespan in perpetuity.”

  Taking a deep breath to still her mounting dread and frustration, Re-Haan takes a moment to collect herself. “You will all be dead. I will manage. I think Teach will manage also. And w
hy is nobody studying the dungeons or mana? Using locked processes to prevent yourselves from going insane is great, but working just to create more work without a goal in sight is also insanity. Not a single theory on how to elevate this world’s energy - mana - to qi without letting the vast majority of people die has been proposed. Nor has anyone thought of solutions to the space-based defences reported by Teach. Nor has anyone proposed any solutions for the massively increased beast hordes. You all must have families in risk zones. Not that I care, but I’d imagine you sentimental and squishy races would be a bit more worried about your next of kin being eaten by mutants.”

  Looking around, Re-Haan sees a broad mix of humans and beastkins, all of them looking as if they just emerged from a trance.

  “Come Ferah. Teach is about to leave the Capital and go to Tower City. Let’s pester him until he agrees to a detour to Goodsummer.”

  Re-Haan is not entirely sure why she is concerned with the wishes of this little girl, but the smile on Ferah’s face does warm her heart a little.

  ⁂

  I chuckle as I hear the king shitting his guts out. I shove the small tinge of disappointment away at the foulmouthed regents boring choice of core, but I can’t fault his logic. His display of mana control was honestly impressive and a bit worrying. A gutcore will be the most similar to the manner in which he controlled the two types of mana.

  I double-check the ring on his finger and its effects. It syphons off a fraction of the man’s qi to form a film across his skin. The microscopic runes inside the inlaid tree turn it into a one-way street for powers, allowing mana inside but preventing any inactivated qi from leaving.

  Qi has a lot of possible states, but there are three main ones. First is normal qi, this is stored inside the cores or blood. Braincores have nearly all their power in this form, gutcores have about half, and heartcores have a mere ten per cent. Then there is the structural qi. This qi has been deactivated in order to passively reinforce matter. The percentages are reversed here, with braincores having nearly no reinforcement, gutcores having about half, and heartcores having nearly all.