Patrick Laplante
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Pandora Unchained: B1C3 - Seeking Life Through Death
🕑 Added 2023-10-20 22:41:57 +0000 UTCThe Kepler Manor was located on the outer rim of the Bloodwood Outpost not far from the towering wall built entirely of bloodwood. It was much larger than the lower quality dwellings in its surroundings and had at one point been the governor’s mansion.
Thanks to a huge influx of investments from the guilds and corporations ten years back, the outpost had undergone a complete makeover; but the manor had stayed, and the Kepler Clan had bought it at a bargain.
Only three people lived in the Kepler Manor: Sorin Kepler, the master of the house, his butler, Percival, and his maid, Clarice. It was a small house given the status of Sorin’s family, but much larger than anyone else had a right to in the area.
In Sorin’s opinion, it was a complete waste. He didn’t need such a huge house for the three of them and would have been much more comfortable in smaller accommodations. But his family’s obsession over face and reputation trumped his desires, so here he was, in a house he couldn’t afford and a staff who’s wages he didn’t pay, working for a clinic that barely made ends meet, all in the name of family politics.
“Young master, you’ve returned,” greeted Percival as Sorin walked in. He was a forty-year-old man with black hair tied back in a simple ponytail. His clothes were old but well-maintained. He wore tailored black pants with a matching vest and a white shirt with lace on the neck. “My apologies, but we hadn’t expected you so early. I can prepare you a spot of tea and some light snacks if you’d like.”
“That’s fine, Percival,” said Sorin. “Be at ease. I just had some thoughts that I wanted to confirm in my study.”
“The tea and snacks will be on their way,” said Percival, ignoring Sorin’s refusal.
The house was huge and had a total of twenty rooms, all lit by expensive mana lamps that delivered a yellow light that was light on the eyes. The study was located between Kepler’s room and the library, which contained tens of thousands of medical reference books and research notes.
He walked behind his desk – an expensive thing made of sable oak, a rare spirit wood that kept the mind fresh and focused – and pulled a book on the reference shelf containing a small selection of reference books. A hidden compartment opened, revealing a safe that could only be unlocked via bloodline authentication.
It accepted a drop of his blood before popping open, revealing a precious golden tome. The book was called the Divine Medical Codex, and only highly ranked members of the Kepler Clan were allowed to read it.
Sorin opened the cover to the first page, which contained a note and introduction by his family’s founder, Sirius Abberjay Kepler. He was not the only author of the book, but a major contributor. Thanks to his teachings and successful policies enacted by his descendants, the Kepler Clan now held enormous influence in the medical community, such that even politicians and major organizations needed to consider their opinion when deciding policies.
The Divine Medical Codex was a complete work that included a section of the human body, a section on cultivation, a section on ailments, and a section on treatment methods and medications. Sorin turned to a page illustrating the human body’s meridian network. The twelve main meridians and eight extraordinary meridians were highlighted and described, along with 361 acupoints that were used both in medicine and cultivation.
Each cultivator was born with naturally open meridians. The more naturally open meridians, the greater the cultivator’s talent. Sorin himself had been born with all twelve main meridians naturally open. And with the help of his father, he’d managed to open four of the eight extraordinary meridians, establishing an unshakable foundation for his future advancement.
Unfortunately, Sorin had yet to advance to the bone forging realm when he received news of parents’ death. A few days later, he had suffered an unfortunate ‘accident’ that had destroyed his mana sea and delivered a fatal blow to his internal organs.
Since he belonged to a family of physicians, he was able to escape with his life, but his cultivation remained crippled, and his life expectancy was greatly diminished.
He was no fool. He knew the branch families were behind the incident. He was also certain that the elder’s council new as well. Alas, his parents were dead and he was now useless. The elders had unanimously decided that his uncle, Reeves Mockingjay Kepler, would be the next head of the family.
But Sorin no longer cared about such things. It was all in the past. His life was ruined, and he accepted that. What he did not accept was that he was fated to die a useless wretch. He was determined to discover what had happened to his parents. If they were also the victims of his uncle’s machinations, he would surely avenge them.
Balancing poisons is no longer an issue, thought Sorin as he reflected on the Ten Thousand Poison Cannon. I’ve gone through the calculations several times, and the Divine Medical Codex Agrees. The main problem with cultivating the Ten Thousand Poison Cannon lies in acquiring so many unique poisons. Stronger poisons are required for each realm, and these things aren’t easily acquired even by master alchemists and physicians.
The second problem lay in the approach to cultivation. To Sorin’s knowledge, cultivation was done from the inside out. A cultivator circulated mana through their naturally opened meridians to move ambient mana into their qi sea. By increasing the density of their mana, they were able to thicken their blood, thereby passively strengthening their organs, their flesh, and their bones in preparation for the next cultivation realm.
Each cultivation realm had ten cultivation levels. The first cultivation realm was Blood Thickening, followed by Bone Forging and Flesh Sanctification.
Blood thickening was the first step. By reaching the first level of blood thickening, one would officially be considered a cultivator. It should be noted that only one in ten people could cultivate, and among these people, most only had one or two meridian channels open.
Where the Ten Thousand Poison Cannon confused Sorin was that it didn’t mention how to circulate mana through one’s meridians, nor did it mention the all-important mana sea. Instead of storing mana in one location, as every single other cultivation method Sorin had ever heard of did, the Ten Thousand Cannon relied on the physical body to store mana-infused poisons. This would directly thicken the blood, thereby granting the cultivator a large mana pool with the innate poison characteristic.
Most cultivation methods required a compatible set of unblocked meridians. The Ten Thousand Poison Cannon was seemingly the exception to the rule. Did meridians not matter, or did it simply assume fully unlocked main meridians? Cultivating according to the cannon might be suicidal for Sorin, given the state of his collapsed mana sea and his stagnated and damaged meridians.
There was also Sorin’s physical problems to worry about. His internal organs were on the verge of failure and might not be able to tolerate even a perfectly balanced cocktail of poisons. His life expectancy of 3-4 years could easily into 3-4 hours. Cultivating the Ten Thousand Poison Cannon might be the last thing he did.
It was well into the evening when Sorin heard a knock on the door. He put down his pen as Percival entered and brought in a plate of cold dinner. “My apologies for bringing it up so late, Mr. Kepler,” said Percival. “I assumed you were fully conscious when you said you’d be right down for dinner. It’s been a while since you were so immersed in a puzzle that you didn’t pay attention to your surroundings.”
“It’s a puzzle all right,” said Sorin, accepting the plate of food. He shovelled root vegetables and garden greens into his mouth without tasting them, then pushed away the perfectly cooked pork chop because cutting it up was far too troublesome.
“Alloy me, Mr. Kepler,” said Percival, taking up the knife and fork and cutting the pork chop into small pieces.
“Please stop calling Mr. Kepler, Percival,” said Sorin. “Mr. Kepler is what you called my father. I might be sixteen, technically a man, but I’m not even half the man my father was at that age.”
“Alas, decorum ties my hands, Mr. Kepler,” said Percival, pushing over the plate. Sorin had no choice but to shovel down the pork under the butler’s watchful eye. “Besides, I think you’re devaluing yourself. Even with your condition, there are few one-star physicians who possess even half your skill.”
“I’m just a ticking time bomb,” said Sorin. “A cripple on the last of his days. It won’t be long now before I leave this world. Ten years later, I doubt there’ll be anyone who remembers me.” He closed his eyes and sank deep in thought. That was another thing to consider – his condition. Since he didn’t have a lot of time remaining, why shouldn’t he take a gamble.
“Percival?” said Sorin, opening his eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Kepler?” replied Percival, who’d yet to leave the room.
“Could you fetch me a few books from the library?” asked Sorin. “I’m looking for ‘An Analysis of Fort Bloodwood’s Flaura and Fauna and their Demonic Mutations’ and ‘An Adventurer’s Guide to Poisonous Herbs and Creatures’.”
Percival raised an eyebrow. “I take it you’ve run into a unique medical case, Mr. Kepler?”
“Something like that,” muttered Sorin. “The local beauties have started using poisons to deter perverts and peeping toms. They have no idea what they’re doing, so I’d like to prepare for the worst.”
“I have to ask – why bother?” said Percival.
“Because a doctor should have a caring and open heart,” said Sorin.
“Your father would spank you for saying such drivel,” said Percival.
“Fine,” said Sorin. “It’s a puzzle. I’m interested.”
“A much more reasonable answer,” said Percival. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
Percival returned a short while later with the requested books and retired for the evening. As for Sorin, he stayed up late in the night. Calculating. Thinking. I’m dead either way, aren’t I? thought Sorin as he measured his options. I’ve only got a few years left to live. What can I even do with that?
Since he was at the end of his rope, he might as well gamble. And If his gamble paid off, those 3-4 years might become 30-40. Moreover, only someone with power would be able to get the answers he wanted, and if required, the vengeance he craved.
Having made up his mind, Sorin made his way down to the basement of the manor where the laboratory was located. What he was attempting was very dangerous, and any external attempts at saving him would greatly reduce his chances at success, so he locked the door before getting to work.
“Seven Star Lung Corroding Lily… Four Leaf Blood Purging Clover…” muttered Sorin as he looked through the glass jars and vials above his work bench. There were dozens of poisons in the manor’s medical stores, but unfortunately, only two poisons, seven-star lung corroding lily extract and three flame ginseng powder, could be balanced between his yin and yang organs.
The seven-star lung corroding lily extract was useful in dissolving lung mucus that would otherwise prevent patients from bleeding. As for the three-flame ginseng powder, it had various applications, but was predominantly used to purge out harmful bacterium and demonic qi invasion in the large intestine.
Both poisons were not potent enough to enact the changes required by the Ten Thousand Poison Cannon, but the text described a way around this. Sorin carefully measured portions of each poison and stirred them into liquified mana extract, a violet-blue liquid that could assimilate with virtually any material.
He waited the beakers hissed and bubbled. The blue-violet liquids slowly changed color until each one was a different shade of sickly green and a fifth of its original volume. He then loaded 31 syringes made from mana-infused glass and one-star grade mana-tempered mithril. The seven-star poison required 11 injection points along the lung meridian leading down the arms, while the three-flame poison required twenty injection points that also ran along the arms, albeit through a different path.
Preparations complete, Sorin used liquified mana extract to trace a pattern over his body using a needle. Some spots were difficult to reach, but Sorin had dextrous hands; thanks to two opposing mirrors, he was able to complete the mysterious pattern illustrated in the Ten Thousand Poison Cannon.
This is it, thought Sorin as he disinfected his acupoints. The point of no return. Whether he lived or died was up to fate and whether the Eighth Evil had tricked him. Regardless, there would be no going back to his profession. There would also be severe political ramifications form his family.
Sorin gritted his teeth as he injected poison into his left side using his right hand. He did the same to his right side with his left, making sure to properly balance the poisons.
His hands began to shake, but he forced them to remain steady. His body became a battlefield between hot and cold, yin and yang. His blood, which had lain dormant for the past three years, began to seethe with excitement.
The pain was excruciating, but Sorin was used to pain. He bit down on a leather belt and used his spiritual strength to maintain consciousness. His body twitched and the two poisons invaded his body, compromising major organs and destroying significant portions of his flesh. At the same time, dead nerves regained their function and muscles regained their strength.
Sorin’s blood transformed and regained a portion of its strength. It greedily drank in the poisonous mana and incorporated it into his starving cells. Mana continued to build up within his body without an outlet until suddenly, a few blockages that had existed for the past three years collapsed. Mana surged through two of his dormant meridians.
The two meridians in question were Sorin’s lung and large intestine meridians. His calculations had been correct, and as a result, mana now flowed through these two organs and breathed life into their dead flesh.
What’s more, Sorin felt his body’s condition improve by leaps and bounds. His lost strength was returning, and his stamina was improving. And the wounds on his torso were finally healing.
