Time Since Reckless Self-Endangerment: 3 Days 4 Hours

Goal: Kill 'Baby Boots'

Nic stepped off the meditation platform with a tremendous yawn, scarf scratching his back as he stretched. To his surprise it had been nearly ten hours since he’d begun. His cultivation base was full and vibrant in his chest, his Essence allowed to flow freely again.

With a stretch and another massive yawn he pushed the raging power out to nodes throughout his body, advancing Poison Devouring by another 5000 until it stood just short of completion. His muscles felt less sore by the second as a warmth spread through his flesh.

“Show me my progress towards evolution.”

Requirements to open the Path of the Great Chain are as follows:

+ Hold a Locus of Dominance for three days (0/3)

+ Consume three foreign shards from Peak F-Class (1/3)

+ Channel 10,000 Essence into your Cultivation Base (10,000/10,000)

+ Consume an F-Class Cultivation Treasure. (1/1)

Three of the four must be completed before the Path is opened.

He had progressed beautifully. The main roadblock remaining was actually Poison Mist’s impressive cost of 50,000 to integrate a new Secondary Shard. It was the cost of starting with an F-Class Shard, but it was more than paid for by the skill’s raw strength.

By his calculation it would be about five days before he could crack the Poison Mist slot open and integrate a new Secondary.

Until then…

There was no reason not to relax a little. He had pushed hard to challenge the Hermitage, and the rewards had been worthwhile, but Nic suspected there were other rewards he was passing by on the way. Learning more about this world and taking the time to explore would arm him with knowledge in ways fistfuls of treasure couldn’t.

Not that he was turning his nose up at fistfuls of treasure.

Nic finished his meditation session with a final bit of looting, stowing away the meditation mat itself into his bag. At this point he was well and truly over-capacity, needing to spill out some less valuable tools to make room for the solid chunk of stone. Had it not been relatively thin he would’ve had to leave it behind entirely.

Finally, he reached down and picked up a splinter of crystal, staring into it. He could still feel something within. Maybe not Lavhin anymore, but a shard of his mind.

He tucked it into his bag as well.

Tales from his childhood had taught him well. You could soar to the heavens, but you shouldn’t leave a single copper coin on the ground.

---

Nic left the Hermitage through the glass ceiling of the specimen room, climbing up and breaking his way through rather than venture back down through Mograithe’s room. There was probably some treasure left behind, but it wasn’t worth the time to scrape every room clean when the rewards for discovering new territory were so rich.

But he did have one thing he wanted to do first.

Sitting on a high outcropping of stone, a goat chewed tawny desert grasses happily. Its split eyes boggled as a tiny pink hand grasped the edge of the stone. It began to snort and stamp its feet in preparation to charge as Nic hauled himself up.

“Oh yeah. I remember you.” Nic planted his feet wide and glued them down adhesive aura. He braced, striking his chest with a palm. “Why don’t we try round two?”

The goat shot forward and slammed into Nic. He felt the breath leave his body, but his adhesive-clad feet kept him rooted as he wrapped his arms around the horns and lifted with a titanic groan-

To throw the goat over his shoulder and off the edge of the cliff.

It tumbled down the slope, rolling over and over before crashing in the waters. A huge pair of crocodile jaws was waiting to snap down on the shaggy beast and drag it below. Nic clapped his hands.

“That’s one.”

He climbed higher, up towards the caves where the Angler Centipedes made their nests. He was careful to avoid any camouflaged specimens hiding among the rocks, and slowly levered himself into a dark crevice, pulling an oil-soaked torch from his pack.

Tiny centipedes slithered and writhed in the dark. A huge one came scuttling forward sideways on the walls, eager to defend its territory.

Nic threw down a vial of oil and lit the spill with a flick of flint and steel. The blaze roared up and the beast retreated, its children wailing in terror. Nic lit a torch and began to sweep it back and forth to drive away the little ones from trying to bite his legs.

Finally, he retrieved a large specimen jar and a pair of tongs. One of the centipede children was bigger and fatter than the rest. As he watched it grasped hold of a little one trying to escape the fires and gulped it down in a brazen act of cannibalism.

Nic thought it was perfect.

His tongs shot down from the heavens and lifted up the rope of squirming limbs. Slicing its back with his tiger-tooth knife, Nic drew yellow blood and dropped the beast into the jar. As the flames raged in front of him he carefully ground the inkstone into powder, added a dash of water, and mixed the blood into the resulting ink.

It gleamed black on his needle as he plunged it into his arm.

Instantly there was a shock as another mind met his own. It wasn’t like communicating with Sophia at all, and it was strange for Nic to have ever believed it would be. The centipede’s mind was simple and bright with angers and hungers.

It had three words to say. Fight. Kill. Eat. It thought them over and over, communicating in flashes of memory from times when it had done just that.

And Nic thought back.

He thought of the time he’d fought on the steps of the temple, back in d23. The reckless bloodshed and the fear pounding in his heart, the triumphant surge of joy when Tarquin saved him.

He thought of crushing Lavhin underfoot. The memory still fresh. The satisfaction of hearing the awful voice fade into silence.

He thought of eating the monkeys one by one, consumed by hunger from the peach pit. Red blood staining his mouth as he consumed without limit.

He fed the thoughts to the beast in the jar as the firelight flickered on his face. It began to writhe back and forth like a charmed snake, pleasantly drunk on the tides of thought exchanged between them; happily reliving scenes of slaughter and devouring.

Yes. You have not enough limbs, but you are centipede. You are great centipede, mother to me now. I will follow, for I fear being consumed by you and wish to hide in your shadow.

The ink began to spread across his arm. The connection to the centipede deepened, until he could hear the slosh of its blood and organs within its shell. Lifting the jar he allowed it to curl up into his hand. As it did, its body melded into the ink and it became a tattoo that spiralled up his left arm.

Having a constant source of Essence-destroying venom would be massively valuable, and the creature’s potential for growth was enormous. If he fed it Shards and cultivation treasures it could potentially evolve to F-Class in under a week.

But there was no reason to rush. It was better to find the perfect Shards to suit the creature’s strengths rather than feed it the trash he cast aside.

Leaving the caves as the fire started to burn out, Nic climbed on. There was one last thing he needed to do before he left this place.

Sitting on a high shelf of rock surrounded by sheer walls was a glimmering shard of gold. Nic slithered across with adhesive aura wrapped around his body and dropped onto the ledge. Sitting in the sand, clutched in the broken clay hand of a golem, was a golden medallion. It was a beautiful seal of red clay with a golden scarab set into the center.

Token of the Red Priest. Unranked // Key. This ancient seal is one of a set that will open ancient doors.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

---

Before, Nic had thought increasing his Spiritual Clarity had simply sharpened his emotions and perceptions.

He was wrong.

Increasing his Spiritual Clarity had changed everything. Nic found that using the Sandrider Blade was far easier, the energy flowing through him with greater speed and focus, and as a result-

He could go faster than ever.

Nic felt the wind lift into a roar around him as he pushed his cultivation base to accelerate faster and faster, rejoicing in the feel of a new limit to shove against. The desert flowed with the force of crashing waves under his platform of hardened sand, sending him forward like a shot from a canon.

He raced through the desert, leaping off the top of dunes and crashing down in a spray of sand. The heat barely bothered him as the wind wrapped around him like a cooling river, flicking at his feather-like gills.

His eyes narrowed suddenly. Ahead there was another plume of sand moving quickly through the desert. It didn’t look like a ship- there were no sails and no raised outline for the hull- but a single humanoid shape lifted up on a cloud of billowing sand as it raced across the dunes.

As soon as he set eyes on it a notification chimed.

A Quest is Bestowed: "Chasing the Wind"

A remnant of the ancient world still roams these wastes, caught up in the thrill of speed and escape from the past. Defeat it in a race, and be rewarded.

Catch the Wandering Wind (0/1)

Reward - ???

Nic turned course instantly. It was a gut decision- but who was this bastard to go showing Nic up? If he wanted to race, well, Nic would race.

His grip tightened on the Sandrider Blade and he poured aura into sword. The wind’s howl increased a notch and sand sprayed up into the air.

Accelerating across the desert Nic dodged between red-rock boulders that stuck up like teeth. Giant lizards lifted their head to watch as he shot past, chasing the distant plume of dust that signalled his rival.

A grin crept across his face.

He felt good.