It had been a hard-fought battle for Zhumei Karmesin, a constant uphill battle, but she had, after all, set herself up for just such a battle when she not only permitted Zelsys Newman to recover, but supplied her aid in the reforging of Carnifex Fulguris. She certainly hadn't expected Newman to grow so aggressively, but there was no undoing it now; not by any means which she would abide by. Karmesin wasn't even sure any known methods of crippling another's cultivation would work on Newman.
In the end, Karmesin had nearly resorted to the very last backup plan she had prepared, and a spark of pride inside had steered her away from it; from that armor which could have been enough to inflict something permanent, in exchange for her own power. The Imperial Regalia and the Eight-trigram Flying Impalers had been crude and conceived of on the spot... But they had worked. That, in combination with the undeniable fact that Newman was now once again the more powerful between them, was more than sufficient motivation for Karmesin to continue pushing ahead after her return to Arches.
Zelsys hadn't enjoyed a fight this much since Ubul. As far as she was concerned, the past three days had been possibly the best way to stretch her wings and explore her own capabilities. Red's many tactics had not only pushed her to apply Carnifex's unique properties in ways she wouldn't have conceived of on her own, they had helped her work out major flaws in her technique that needed to be fixed.
It was undeniable that she was stronger than Red for the moment, but she was nothing less than extremely impressed by the fact it wasn't a one-sided stomp on her part. There was no doubt in her mind that The Good Lady Karmesin would catch up to her and challenge her to another duel before long... On a cultivator timescale, at least.
The three days of their battle had also spanned some of the final preparations for their departure from Borea, and so, with just one more day for necessary recovery, both the Newman Sect's representatives and Zhumei Karmesin would soon depart from Oasis City.
Meanwhile, far south in Ikesia, the exploits of Zelsys Newman and her compatriots in Borea had already reached the ears of nameless men who hid from their foes and friends alike. An aetherwave receiver rang in one of the hidden field offices of the Counterpropaganda Bureau.
Questions were asked about how it should be handled, how the “raw material” should be “treated” to achieve “ideal results”; that is to say, how the truth should be spun for the most ideal impact.
The man on the receiving end, one Strolvath, had taken notes while the tale was recounted to him, and now read off his summary to ensure he got everything right: “The hero given birth by Ikesian science, after suffering a crippling injury brought on by her valiant effort against the Divine General Ubul, has ventured to a far off mystical land to seek recovery. There, she restored the honor of a great house falsely scorned, received the boon of an immortal god-king, and defeated a dragon in battle. Now, she and hers return to Ikesia bearing yet greater strength and treasures from the north, ready to bring to heel the corrupt sects who bow to the Federal Government…”
“We also have it on good authority that their actions will lead to a future increase in trade with the Boreans, as well as a higher number of Borean mercenaries available for hire. Should any alterations be made to the story, sir?” came a response.
Strolvath grinded into his beard and took a swig from his flask. His inner flame had slowly grown tolerable ever since that time in the Dungeon, but both his hair and his clothing now seemed to be in a perpetual state of quietly, smokelessly smoldering. This frigid drink helped keep his condition in check while he chipped away at trying to permanently get it under control. His most recent effort was an import from another continent to the far east, called the Blazing-black Destruction Scripture. The main body of the technique had little use to him since it hinged on capturing a spirit of wildfires the same way Storm-soul cultivators captured lightning spirits, but the supplementary insights had been terribly useful nonetheless.
“Publicize it without alterations and target known witnesses for Truth Elixir interrogation,” he said. “Ensure that the results are leaked and the witnesses compensated appropriately.”
He took another swig, chuckling into his beard. This story alone would suffice to stoke smoldering discontent into acts of anti-occupationist terrorism or even open revolt in at least three occupied municipalities.
“The heavens have given us perfect propaganda: Truth itself.”
Somewhere in Oasis City, twin brothers wore the disguises of random, elderly Boreans. They vanished off the street into a house which they owned, which had remained impeccably clean despite going unvisited for decades thanks to the golems which inhabited, cleaned, and defended it.
There, in their home away from home, inside five layers of barriers against spying, they finally returned to their natural forms, robes of white and black included.
They had journeyed here in a hurry in order to perform in-person reconaissance in the wake of a historical event, but also to observe one particular subject. Indeed, these twins had been among the few to witness the duel between the Newman Elder and the Lady in Red up-close... Or at least as close as they could get. With their senses, they scarcely needed to draw near what they wanted to observe.
“What a horrific weapon,” Hedan remarked.
“What a terrific weapon!” Wodan countered.
Hedan, pinching the bridge of his nose, vented his frustration with what he perceived to be his brother's pet project: “What’s with her? All that show at those feasts, and not an iota of swordlight! And the same in the duel, why is she still holding onto that flying saw idea? She ought to be able to form swordlight by now! By the Architect, she has a fully physicalized weapon spirit at least a full phase early, if not two phases.”
“I doubt she even knows of the Architect's Cultivation Framework... And she does not possess Sword Aura besides. When has she ever fought with that implement of hers as if it were a sword?” Wodan asked, smugly.
Akaso
If you’d like to read ahead, consider heading on over to the Patreon! You get up to 20 advance chapters for both Retribution Engine and Cherno Caster.
I’d also greatly appreciate it if you could rate my story, maybe even leave a review or advanced review!
For a link to the discord, check the synopsis.
It had been a hard-fought battle for Zhumei Karmesin, a constant uphill battle, but she had, after all, set herself up for just such a battle when she not only permitted Zelsys Newman to recover, but supplied her aid in the reforging of Carnifex Fulguris. She certainly hadn't expected Newman to grow so aggressively, but there was no undoing it now; not by any means which she would abide by. Karmesin wasn't even sure any known methods of crippling another's cultivation would work on Newman.
In the end, Karmesin had nearly resorted to the very last backup plan she had prepared, and a spark of pride inside had steered her away from it; from that armor which could have been enough to inflict something permanent, in exchange for her own power. The Imperial Regalia and the Eight-trigram Flying Impalers had been crude and conceived of on the spot... But they had worked. That, in combination with the undeniable fact that Newman was now once again the more powerful between them, was more than sufficient motivation for Karmesin to continue pushing ahead after her return to Arches.
Zelsys hadn't enjoyed a fight this much since Ubul. As far as she was concerned, the past three days had been possibly the best way to stretch her wings and explore her own capabilities. Red's many tactics had not only pushed her to apply Carnifex's unique properties in ways she wouldn't have conceived of on her own, they had helped her work out major flaws in her technique that needed to be fixed.
It was undeniable that she was stronger than Red for the moment, but she was nothing less than extremely impressed by the fact it wasn't a one-sided stomp on her part. There was no doubt in her mind that The Good Lady Karmesin would catch up to her and challenge her to another duel before long... On a cultivator timescale, at least.
The three days of their battle had also spanned some of the final preparations for their departure from Borea, and so, with just one more day for necessary recovery, both the Newman Sect's representatives and Zhumei Karmesin would soon depart from Oasis City.
Meanwhile, far south in Ikesia, the exploits of Zelsys Newman and her compatriots in Borea had already reached the ears of nameless men who hid from their foes and friends alike. An aetherwave receiver rang in one of the hidden field offices of the Counterpropaganda Bureau.
Questions were asked about how it should be handled, how the “raw material” should be “treated” to achieve “ideal results”; that is to say, how the truth should be spun for the most ideal impact.
The man on the receiving end, one Strolvath, had taken notes while the tale was recounted to him, and now read off his summary to ensure he got everything right: “The hero given birth by Ikesian science, after suffering a crippling injury brought on by her valiant effort against the Divine General Ubul, has ventured to a far off mystical land to seek recovery. There, she restored the honor of a great house falsely scorned, received the boon of an immortal god-king, and defeated a dragon in battle. Now, she and hers return to Ikesia bearing yet greater strength and treasures from the north, ready to bring to heel the corrupt sects who bow to the Federal Government…”
“We also have it on good authority that their actions will lead to a future increase in trade with the Boreans, as well as a higher number of Borean mercenaries available for hire. Should any alterations be made to the story, sir?” came a response.
Strolvath grinded into his beard and took a swig from his flask. His inner flame had slowly grown tolerable ever since that time in the Dungeon, but both his hair and his clothing now seemed to be in a perpetual state of quietly, smokelessly smoldering. This frigid drink helped keep his condition in check while he chipped away at trying to permanently get it under control. His most recent effort was an import from another continent to the far east, called the Blazing-black Destruction Scripture. The main body of the technique had little use to him since it hinged on capturing a spirit of wildfires the same way Storm-soul cultivators captured lightning spirits, but the supplementary insights had been terribly useful nonetheless.
“Publicize it without alterations and target known witnesses for Truth Elixir interrogation,” he said. “Ensure that the results are leaked and the witnesses compensated appropriately.”
He took another swig, chuckling into his beard. This story alone would suffice to stoke smoldering discontent into acts of anti-occupationist terrorism or even open revolt in at least three occupied municipalities.
“The heavens have given us perfect propaganda: Truth itself.”
Somewhere in Oasis City, twin brothers wore the disguises of random, elderly Boreans. They vanished off the street into a house which they owned, which had remained impeccably clean despite going unvisited for decades thanks to the golems which inhabited, cleaned, and defended it.
There, in their home away from home, inside five layers of barriers against spying, they finally returned to their natural forms, robes of white and black included.
They had journeyed here in a hurry in order to perform in-person reconaissance in the wake of a historical event, but also to observe one particular subject. Indeed, these twins had been among the few to witness the duel between the Newman Elder and the Lady in Red up-close... Or at least as close as they could get. With their senses, they scarcely needed to draw near what they wanted to observe.
“What a horrific weapon,” Hedan remarked.
“What a terrific weapon!” Wodan countered.
Hedan, pinching the bridge of his nose, vented his frustration with what he perceived to be his brother's pet project: “What’s with her? All that show at those feasts, and not an iota of swordlight! And the same in the duel, why is she still holding onto that flying saw idea? She ought to be able to form swordlight by now! By the Architect, she has a fully physicalized weapon spirit at least a full phase early, if not two phases.”
“I doubt she even knows of the Architect's Cultivation Framework... And she does not possess Sword Aura besides. When has she ever fought with that implement of hers as if it were a sword?” Wodan asked, smugly.
Akaso
If you’d like to read ahead, consider heading on over to the Patreon! You get up to 20 advance chapters for both Retribution Engine and Cherno Caster.
I’d also greatly appreciate it if you could rate my story, maybe even leave a review or advanced review!
For a link to the discord, check the synopsis.
