Patrick Laplante
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PtM 18 - Chapter 41: The Fifth Soul
🕑 Added 2023-09-12 20:06:01 +0000 UTCBalancing the will and authority of the Five-Point Monarchs came easily to Cha Ming. With his help, the Five-Point Monarchs were able to speed up their conquest of the planar core. Dao origin fragments poured into the camp by the tens of thousands, leaving Cha Ming no choice but to ask Carnage and Ninesky to help him manage everything.
They soon encountered a problem, however. The Five-Point Monarchs could easily retrieve fragments but weren’t able to easily absorb them. This had a detrimental effect on their overall power and the balance of their respective authorities.
“I have a solution, but I’m not sure if they’ll get mad at me,” said Cha Ming.
“Who cares if they get mad?” Ninesky said. “Do it. Do it!”
“Master, just take the extra will fragments,” said Carnage. “You’ll be doing them a favor, really.”
Cha Ming felt like he was taking advice from two shoulder devils but knew that they were right. If he didn’t do as they said, the Five-Point Monarchs would need to slow down. This was clearly unacceptable, as the Scriptorium in the outside world was under siege. Should it fall, Melody’s encroachment on the planar core would commence once again, and nothing they did would be able to stop her.
“Let’s hope that lock out there is as strong as they think,” said Cha Ming. “Carnage, send them to me as they come. I’ll put my full attention on organizing my inner world.”
Runes poured into his water-based core at an accelerated rate. No matter how much he poured in, there didn’t seem to be a limit. This continued for several hours, until finally, he noticed a strange phenomenon.
“The Dao origin fragments… they aren’t compressing as much,” Cha Ming said.
Before, it had always been possible to collect more fragments. The limiting factor was the strength of the enclosure. But now, the enclosure didn’t seem to matter. The pressure inside the planar core was increasing exponentially with every rune he added.
“Carnage, do you know what’s going on?” asked Cha Ming.
“I have no idea,” said Carnage, who’d just stopped feeding him fragments. “We don’t really do things like this on the three moons.”
Since Carnage didn’t know, Cha Ming asked each of the four wills residing in his inner world. Flamewing and Claw Vice weren’t very helpful, but Memory and the Supreme Queen had some insights to share with him.
“I see,” Cha Ming said. “Even with a reinforced enclosure, the lack of a governing will is impeding me. The only way to make progress is for me to manually untangle and combine these fragments.” Unfortunately, this was a problem that couldn’t be solved with clever runework.
The Five-Point Monarchs were equally helpless when he asked them about it. “Harmony could have helped you back in her prime, but now, she’s so weak, she’ll dissipate within a day,” said the Clockwork Ancestor. “Don’t worry about taking in more fragments. We’ll slow down our pace. It’s already quite good that you were able to profit from this.”
“How much longer do you think we have before the Scriptorium fails?” asked Cha Ming.
“Not much longer,” said the Star-Eye Ancestor. “Minutes at best. A few of South Sea’s elders have fallen, and it won’t be long before the South Sea Guardian himself is forced to act.”
***
Blood and ink rained down on the shallow pool surrounding the planar core as wave upon wave of inky nightmares and ocean creatures threw themselves to their deaths. Ink sprites fell by the thousands to fuel and repair the Scriptorium’s grand formation. As for Melody, she watched from a distance, completely unbothered by the casualty count.
“Argh!” An elder gasped as the strain of controlling the Scriptorium’s massive energies overwhelmed him.
Let go, damn you… Let go and I’ll take the heat, thought Elder Ling. But the elder held on for a few more seconds, buying them time before paying the ultimate price in the process. This was the way of the South Sea Sect. Only the mission was important. Nothing else mattered.
The South Sea Guardian didn’t say a word as the elder passed on. Only four were left, and they were showing signs of imminent failure.
“I think it’s time,” said Elder Ling. “They’ve held on long enough.”
“They can still hold on just a little longer,” said Daoist South Sea. “I am very familiar with them and know exactly where their limits lie.”
“Those are lives we’re talking about!” Elder Ling snapped. “Is it worth it to throw them away for a few seconds more?”
“Don’t judge me,” said Daoist South Sea. “At least their lives can buy us that much time. We could sacrifice billions of lesser cultivators, and for not even a second in return. Scriptorium, report!”
A black-robed ink sprite appeared before them and gave them a curt nod. “The Scriptorium is on the verge of imminent failure. I estimate thirteen minutes at best.”
“Recommendations?” asked Daoist South Sea.
“Self-destruction,” said the ink sprite without any hesitation. “We should detonate the Scriptorium for maximum effect.”
“It looks like you’ll be getting your wish after all,” South Sea said. “Scriptorium, we’ll do as you suggested. Everyone, prepare to evacuate.”
Elder Ling, Mr. Mao Mao, and Daoist South Sea collected the elders of their respective factions and appeared above the Scriptorium. They watched on as the grand formation of ink sprites converged on the ancient building, then proceeded to press it down until its true form appeared.
The Scriptorium was, in fact, a giant book. It opened to the first page, and ancient inky characters peeled off it and shot toward Melody, who’d been waiting for just this moment.
“You know you won’t be able to kill me with this, so why bother?” asked Melody as she intercepted the characters. “Stay with me, and I promise you gainful employment for the next aeon.”
The book ignored her plea and continued opening, page after page. Each page carried an attack on the level of a third-level saint’s self-destruction and caused space to crack and time to shatter.
“It’s a pity to see him go like that,” said Daoist South Sea. “He was always a good chap. Quite the conversationalist.”
“Agreed,” said Elder Ling. “He was the polar opposite of Harmony, who was always so prickly whenever you mentioned anything that mattered.”
“I’m happy to see you both speaking of me so fondly,” a voice said suddenly.
Elder Ling and Daoist South Sea looked back in shock to see the Scriptorium’s artifact spirit.
“Aren’t you an artifact spirit?” asked Daoist South Sea.
“I am,” said the Scriptorium.
“Then shouldn’t you be going down with the ship, so to speak?” continued Daoist South Sea.
“I’m afraid I have other matters to attend to,” said the Scriptorium. “Observe the rhythm she’s fallen into. She’s gotten completely predictable. So when I do this, she won’t know how to react.”
The Scriptorium book, which only had a few pages remaining, suddenly exploded. A cloud of inky characters rapidly expanded and swallowed up Melody. Thousands of formation chains locked down space and prevented her from escaping.
A furious howl rang out from within, and cracks began to appear on her new prison. But to both Elder Ling and Daoist South Sea’s surprise, it held.
“I have done what I can in this place,” said the artifact spirit. “I wish you all success in your endeavors.”
“Where exactly are you… no!” Elder Ling tried to stop the spirit, but he was too late. The ink sprite dashed directly into the planar core.
“What a coward,” said Daoist South Sea. “It couldn’t survive without the Scriptorium, so it’s making a power play?”
Elder Ling’s eyes settled on Cha Ming, whose aura had grown unstable. “Perhaps its intentions are simpler. The Librarian was always a pragmatic individual. Perhaps he just wants to lend a hand where it matters most.”
Daoist South Sea grunted. “Whatever. It’s our turn next. She’s a lot stronger now than she was before, and it’ll take everything we have to hold her back.”
Elder Ling flicked his sleeve and summoned forth a sea of talismans. Each one had reached the saint rank, and there were hundreds of thousands of them, drawn by each generation of Daoist West Sea during their spare time.
The South Sea lineage was different from the West Sea lineage. They were vicious cultivators who fought krakens to sharpen their blades. They did not form demon companionships or study the runic arts. Instead, they focused exclusively on slaughter.
Daoist South Sea pulled out his lineage’s dreaded sword, Kraken’s Bane, and began undoing the many seals keeping it in check. Just as every generation of the West Sea lineage had spent their spare moments crafting talismans, the South Sea lineage had spent its time slaughtering krakens in the depths of the Inkwell Sea to add their blood to this single blade.
Two minutes later, the runic prison exploded, and Melody emerged. She now wore a suit of demon armor, and another set of runes now decorated her brush. Her presence threatened to break the void and shatter the Inkwell Plane.
“So,” she said, “who’s next? Two old men and a cute little kitten? If you can last longer than an hour, I’ll eat my brush.”
“It’s you who said it,” Daoist South Sea said. “Take this sword!” He slashed in her general direction, and the fabric of the Inkwell Plane parted. The laws of the realm were nullified in the general area.
Elder Ling followed up on his attack. He sent out a sea of talismans to keep her in place and force her to defend.
“That’s… a remarkable sword,” Melody said through gritted teeth. “But it’s not exactly stable. How long do you think you can keep this up before the blade shatters?”
“Longer than you,” answered the South Sea Daoist. “What are you waiting for, you stupid cat? Pincer her!”
***
Hours passed in the planar core. The Five-Point Monarchs took ground and lost it, netting them a hefty profit in Dao origin fragments and their corresponding authority. As for Cha Ming, he served as a glorified accountant, tallying and balancing five forces to ensure they didn’t spiral out of control.
We need to slow down again, Cha Ming sent to the monarchs. I’ve lost control again.
So soon? sent the Star-Eye Ancestor. But it’s only been a few minutes.
Well, I encountered another issue, said Cha Ming. Managing so much authority is taxing, and the Dao origin fragments I collected are beginning to break free once again.
But the Five-Point Lock…
Was working, said Cha Ming. But I’ve reached a limit even with your modifications.
Just try your best, said the Iridescent Ancestor. We’re at a tipping point as well and can’t be interrupted. Expect a large influx of Dao origin fragments.
Cha Ming cursed as even more fragments poured in. He once again diverted the will of his four demiplanes and drew upon Carnage and Ninesky for help. He then used the paintings in his spiritual seas and his Dao projection to stabilize his planar core as he wrestled to keep the influx under control.
It’s too much, Cha Ming thought. If this keeps up, I’ll explode!
Unfortunately, the Five-Point Monarchs showed no signs of slowing. It wasn’t long before a crack appeared on the planar core, followed closely by a second and a third.
It was then that a surge of inky energy entered his body. “Ink and water are inseparable,” a voice suddenly said. “They are much like color and light, and stories and words. Words have a flow, from front to back, and around and around again. Everything is simple. Everything is connected.”
Cha Ming shook as he heard these words. Suddenly, many things which had confused him made sense. The planar core, which was on the verge of breaking, suddenly stopped shaking.
The flow of Dao origin fragments hadn’t ceased—quite the contrary, it had sped up. But what had changed was his comprehension and his ability to fit these fragments together.
“A pond can accommodate millions of droplets, just as a lake can accommodate millions of ponds. Then what of a sea? What of an ocean? What of the infinite void between planes? The Dao of Inkwell is unfathomably deep. Its permutations and combinations are endless.”
Once again, the Dao origin fragments inside his planar core compressed and collapsed. They combined to form new fragments that were more efficient and easier to fit together. They fit together like a puzzle that was rapidly growing into a complete and unified core.
“Who are you?” Cha Ming said to the speaker. “How did you get into my body?”
To his surprise, an ink sprite with the appearance of an old librarian appeared inside the Clear Sky World. The librarian appeared before him. But the librarian was not human.
“You may call me Scriptorium,” said the ink sprite. “I was once an artifact spirit but lost my place of employment. I embraced death, remembering there are still many wonderful books I need to read. Would you perhaps require the services of a librarian in this wonderful inner world?”
“A librarian?” said Cha Ming.
“Just so,” said Scriptorium. “I organize and I tally. I keep records and I read. Also, I happen to be very well suited to your current dilemma.”
Cha Ming’s eyes widened. “You mean, you’re offering to help me manage this planar core?”
“The four other demiplanes in this wonderfully large inner world seem to have a manager, and it doesn’t seem right for this fledgeling demiplane not to have one,” said Scriptorium. “It seems to me that we both have need of each other. Your inner world will collapse without my help, and I will fade from existence without a home.”
“What did you have in mind?” Cha Ming asked. He didn’t exactly have time to negotiate a deal, and this ink sprite seemed like a finicky individual.
“No worries. I have prepared a very reasonable contract,” said the ink sprite. “Please review and sign it.”
“This…” Cha Ming reviewed the document and saw that the terms weren’t bad. It established a guaranteed share of energy and materials to be allocated to the world, as well as various treatment conditions. Also, Scriptorium wanted the ability to employ his own helpers, as well as the right to request a replacement at any time. “This ability to request a replacement…”
“A failsafe, I assure you,” said the ink sprite. “It is a painstaking matter to build up a world, and it becomes as perfectly suited to the spirit as a Daoist’s core or a demigod’s body.”
Cha Ming would have preferred to have some stipulations but really didn’t have time to think about it. “Fine. I accept.”
“Please sign,” said the ink sprite. “Propriety is very important.”
Of course he wants me to sign, Cha Ming thought. He summoned the Clear Sky Brush and wrote his mark. “There. Happy?”
“My, that is a wonderful brush,” said the ink sprite. “Are you perhaps… yes, that’s the only way. You’re this generations Painter. How wonderful! How exciting! What stories we’ll make together!” The ink sprite immediately signed his own name, and the contract split into two and shot into their brows. “Now let’s see what we have here. This… Oh my. You fused Grandmistlaws in here? No wait, those aren’t Grandmist laws. How interesting.”
Fortunately, Scriptorium was an efficient and adaptable worker. He quickly organized all the Dao origin fragments and began to compile them. He reminded Cha Ming of a computer in its efficiency. In fact, he could swear there were tiny notes affixed to each fragment group for quick reference.
Another flood of Dao origin fragments came pouring in, but this time, they were ready. Scriptorium caught them and finished balancing the authorities.
I got some help from an artifact spirit, so you can speed things up, Cha Ming sent.
Great! said the Iridescent Ancestor.
The Great Divine be praised, said the Runebound Ancestor.
I told you he could do it, said Silver Fish.
Let’s teach these turtles a lesson, said the Star-Eye Ancestor.
***
“It looks like he’s resolved his cultivation issues and is making good progress again,” Elder Ling said through heavy breaths. “That’s good. That’s very good…”
“I don’t see how it really matters,” said Daoist South Sea. “We’re done. We’re spent. It won’t be long before she reaches the core and asserts her dominance.”
Kraken’s Bane was broken in half, and only a shattered stump remained. As for the other elders and saints in their respective branches, they’d already paid the ultimate price.
“Thankfully, you’re not completely unreasonable and realize your limits,” said Melody. “Give in, and I’ll give you the choice of a thousand individuals each to preserve.”
Elder Ling’s sea of talismans was almost completely depleted. Mr. Mao Mao’s custom armor was broken, and one of his fangs, which were as hard as immortal artifacts, was chipped. South Sea was right. They wouldn’t last more than a few exchanges.
“Are you ready for one final charge?” Elder Ling said to his companions. “Mr. Mao Mao, you lock her down. I’ll detonate my saint core first, and South Sea can go second if he has the balls. You can go third.”
“You think I won’t do it?” said Daoist South Sea. “Then watch and see how it’s done. I know your type—you’ll never sleep in peace if you don’t follow in my footsteps.”
The sword in South Sea’s hand began to shake as he poured what remained of his energy into the artifact to detonate it alongside him. They were about to charge when Elder Ling raised his hand. “Stop, South Sea. There’s no need.”
“What, are you getting cold feet?” asked South Sea.
“It’s not that,” Elder Ling said. Many powerful fluctuations had suddenly appeared in the area. Most weren’t strong individually, but in such a situation, they were a godsend.
“I hope we’re not too late.” A smiling Daoist in golden emperor’s robes appeared beside Elder Ling and his companions. There were dozens of saints with him. Some wore ministers’ robes, and others appeared to be recluses who had hidden themselves away in the void.
“We had to make a few preparations before coming,” said another voice. An impressive demigod wearing a suit of crystalline armor and a crystal crown appeared. He was the Crystal Emperor, the ruler of Slovana. “Crimson Lotus, you hid your strength deeply. You’ve got six more saints than I’d calculated.” The first man was none other than the ruler of the Crimson Lotus Empire.
“Are you all done patting each other on the back?” A group of thirty-five demons and a few dozen rankers flew down to join them. “I had to take a detour in Mendin to grab whoever I could. What are your excuses?” The speaker was an ancient Paper Tiger clansman who had long since reached the third level of sainthood.
“Excuses?” said the Crimson Lotus Emperor. “We came here in person. Has your king grown cowardly over the centuries, to the point that he doesn’t dare show his face?”
“His Majesty is preoccupied at the moment,” said the old tiger. “Forgive me for not reporting specifics.”
“Right, he’s the only one the will of the world can’t sense,” said the Crimson Lotus Emperor. “Forget I said anything.”
“I think we should talk less and fight more,” said the Crystal Emperor. “She’s a lot stronger than we were expecting. How did you even last this long?”
Elder Ling coughed. “We blew up the Scriptorium and the Gallery, and all our elders and saints are dead. The Inky Sea Sect is basically finished. What more do you want?”
The Crystal Emperor’s expression turned grave. “In that case, I made the right choice in bringing these.” Nine huge swords flew out from his inner world. Each one was over a kilometer long and so heavy that only a saintly demigod of the second rank could even swing it.
“The Nine God Swords of Slovana,” said Melody. “You dare bring your continent-guarding treasure?”
“It’s useless if you prevail, and I have faith in the later generation,” said the Crystal Emperor. “There would be no greater honor for these blades than to sever your wretched head.”
“I agree wholeheartedly,” said the Crimson Lotus monarch. “But I would find it much more fitting if my continent’s Dao Fuse Cauldron landed the finishing blow.”
“Two continent-stabilization treasures,” said Melody. “What about you, old tiger? Did you bring the Pale Throne? What about the Tree of Good and Evil—oh wait…”
“Unexpected events occurred, so the Tree of Good and Evil won’t be making an appearance,” said Pontiff Rowe, the leader of Mendin’s delegation. “But we brought the Twin Temples, all our saints, and all our divinity reserves. Let’s pray it will be enough.”
Melody’s expression was impossible to read. The troops assembled were powerful, and their treasures many. Unfortunately, Melody was the will of an entire world. If her influence was not purged, she was virtually impossible to kill.
“Don’t underestimate her,” Elder Ling warned. “She doesn’t tire, she doesn’t rest. And she grows stronger with every passing second.”
“It won’t be the first time we defended the plane against an abomination,” said the Crystal Emperor.
“Let’s hope she lasts longer than that void-devouring leviathan,” agreed the Crimson Lotus Emperor. “Let’s fight!”
