Monsters above monsters? The second mutation? Clay was bewildered. He continued tracing the text:
The final entry of Hanzo.
Upon these stones, my blood has stained,
And breath, once fierce, now wanes.
My blade lies shattered, crumbled in strife,
Beneath the weight of relentless life.
I though I could outrun the monsters' chase,
Yet against their tide, I fell from grace.
With every strike, I gave my all,
But now, in flight, I await my fall.
Here I rest, bloodied and alone,
A sanctuary turned tomb of stone.
This is my farewell, a whisper in the dark,
I fought for honour, for humanity's spark.
May you find strength in my word,
As the end draws near, let courage be heard.
The end draws near? Clay thought to himself. And what is this thing he talked about the second mutation? Questions kept appearing in his mind. Who is this Hanzo, anyway?
As the fading embers of sunlight slowly recede, Clay found himself gradually enveloped in darkness. He felt his stomach rumble.
Grumble...
He looked out, still seeing the silhouettes of those giant chitinous critters lurking outside. "Guess I'm skipping dinner tonight." he sighed.
Grumble... Grumble...
A sharp jolt of pain sliced through Clay's stomach, tearing him from the depths of sleep. The sky remained a murky expanse of darkness, the kind that thickened the air and swallowed sounds. He turned toward the narrow crack of the cave entrance and peeked through. Still there.
Suddenly, another wave of agony–more intense this time–rippled through him, gripping him like a vice. He clenched his teeth as he desperately fumbled through the bags. What could he possibly eat?
Then he saw them.
Monster hearts.
Not just monster hearts. Raw monster hearts.
Eversince humans discovered that they can absorb aura in monster hearts by consuming them, monster hearts have been one of the most desired foods. There is only one problem... they taste bitter, exceptionally bitter. So bitter, in fact, that it is said that dirt taste like fresh fruit compared to monster hearts. Even when cooked, the bitterness remains.
And so, chefs from all around the kingdom spent their entire lives thinking of ways to combat this bitterness. Eventually, the recipes were refined through years of hard work, and nowadays monster heart dishes taste good, and some exclusive restaurants even serve monster hearts in their dishes.
The bitterness is also the reason why essence extractors like Clay and Ross exist. No one in their right minds would eat raw monster hearts, so all the guilds need to do at the end of the day are to do a body check, make sure no one smuggle any hearts away, and nothing could go wrong.
Clay dug into the food. Bitter... very bitter...! His body rejected the taste, but his body didn't listen. Completely devouring one monster heart, he felt as if he had lost his palate. But at least his stomach was filled.
He blacked out.
The bright light shone straight into his eyes, as Clay jolted up from his sleep. He looked around, hoping everything would be a dream. Here he sat, on the cold stone surface in the small cave. It was not a dream.
For a moment he felt as if he wanted to brawl his eyes out, thinking of what happened yesterday and Ross' passing. But he held in his tears. There's no point in crying, he told himself.
The small cave, now more lit from the intense light in mid day, was much cleaner than what Clay had in mind. Looking closer, he saw many small scribbles across the walls of the entire cave.
He went over to check them out, scanning through the words.
To one chosen soul, I shall bestow my art, a legacy woven from the threads of my spirit...
"Three Winds... Radiant Breeze... Fleeting Gust... Subtle Draft...?" Clay mumbled as he moved on to the next. "Two Storms... Intense Gale... Merciless Vortex...?" And turned to the last one. "One Surge...? What are these?"
He moved back to the first scripture, and analysed it more thoroughly.
In stillness, find your grounding,
A meditative stance, your spirit rising.
Breathe in deeply, life's essence flows,
As exhalation whispers, a gentle breeze grows.
Visualise the light, expanding, contracting,
Reflecting your heart, with energy acting.
Feel warmth awaken, sensations ignite,
A luminous aura, enveloping light.
Open your eyes to the glow that you wield,
With Radiant Breeze, your power revealed.
Cultivate harmony, where light resides,
Embrave the flow, as the journey guides.
Clay was astonished. Is this a manual? he thought.
Although he didn't understand the meaning of it, his heart beat with excitement upon the prospect of being able to learn martial arts.
He read the manual once more. "I have to be in a meditative stance?" he asked as he sat down, legs crossed.
He took a deep breath, and breathed out.
Nothing happened.
"A gentle breeze grows? I didn't feel anything." he wondered. Perhaps I shouldn't rush it too much. he told himself as he tried again.
Night fell before he even knew it. Clay had been sitting on the same spot the entire day, but he still couldn't feel a breeze. Feeling slightly down, he ate another monster heart and blacked out once again into the night.
It has been a week since Clay entered the cave. Six days since he started practicing Radiant Breeze, yet there was still no improvement. Annoyed, he thought, What did I do wrong?
He decided to move on to the next technique: Fleeting Gust. Judging from the name, I'm guessing it's a footwork technique? he thought.
Fleeting Gust flows with unpredictable grace,
A dance of movement, where agility finds its place.
With each step taken, the ground stirs beneath,
A rhythm within, as steady as you breathe.
Shift your weight, a leaf in the air,
Right foot glides, left follows with care.
Step right, infiltrate, leap forward with grace,
Spin left as you evade, mastering your space.
Dash right, then slide, light as a breeze,
Drop low, mislead, with effortless ease.
In this art, your body moves with intent,
An erratic path, confounding those who relent.
Harness the aura from within,
Fuel your motions, swift as the wind.
Weaving through chaos, clear and aligned,
A master of footwork, victory defined.
"Right foot glides... left foot follows... step right... leap forward... spin left..." Clay recited the manual as he mimicked what he was told.
Another week has passed, as a rapid clatter of noise echoed out from the cave.
Clay has been practicing Fleeting Gust everyday, and he found out he has quite the talent for it. He got hold of it on the first day, and has been steadily improving day by day. Now, his technique is 10 times the speed of when he first began. Sometimes, his body moved to the next position before his mind could even catch up.
Now that's more like it! he thought. With his newfound technique, he was confident that he could outrun all the ants from before. Simetimes in his sleep, he even dreamt of himself running circles around those monsters.
Time to move on to the next technique. he thought excitedly as he walked towards the manual for Subtle Draft.
Aura stirs, speed takes flight,
Guiding movements, sharp and bright.
Subtle Draft, strong and true,
Driving each strike you follow through.
Quick to dodge, fast to land,
Strike with power, bold and grand.
Fluid steps, fierce as light,
A hidden strength within the fight.
Momentum builds, find your place,
Fast and steady, keeping pace.
With seamless flow, you stand to last,
Claim your victory, unsurpassed.
Comments (0)
See all