217: Meeting the Neighbours

The jungle was an endless expanse of vicious life, teeming with Spirit Beasts and monsters. Everywhere a site of conflict, as plants and trees wrestled with one another in a slow, gruelling war for sunlight and nutrients, as insects roved over the ground in tiny streams, and as creatures lumbering and large moved with stealth or brash confidence through the brush.

In a clearing, a monster curled tight around a tree was watching a spirit beast.

The Redback Toothbearer, a two-ton lizard resembling a slender dinosaur, had its great scaled head raised and cocked, ears perked. Its Soul Sense flexed around it. It was listening to the Aura, filtering for vibrations. It could feel something, a faint sense of danger. It had felt these sensations before and knew what they signified. A predator was watching it. It turned on its two great legs, sniffing at the air, slender tail whipping, prepared to fight or flee the moment something leaped out of the brush and attack it. Its instincts had never failed it.

The 50.cal round that slapped into its head, catching it in an eye and piercing through the relatively soft orbital bone behind, moved at approximately ten times the speed of sound. As such, the Redback didn’t hear the gunshot, nor did it have time to process the experience of having its brains sprayed through the trees.

The Toothbearer stood frozen, still as if stunned. After a moment its body realised it was dead and it toppled. Its body thumped into the ground.

Some distance away, someone floated down from where he’d hidden in the branches of a tree. He wore an armoured skin-suit over which there was a tactical harness with pistol, knives, ammo, grenades, and other tools of war.

Winding around him like a second harness were loops of slender chain, ending in hooks and barbs, all of them harmlessly flat against him. Attached to some of these were small drones, ready to detach and fly into the air.

The outfit was completed by a helmet dotted by camera lenses and sensors. Had one been able to view beneath this outfit, they would’ve seen a lean, pale man with dark hair and grey eyes. He form was muscular in a wiry way, and carved with scars from many injuries. His left eye and left arm were missing entirely, replaced by a Level 3 bionic eye, and a Level 2 bionic arm.

He held a monstrous anti-material rifle easily. One seeing how he held it would’ve been forgiven for guessing it to weigh less than half of its true weight, 20 pounds. At the peak of human fitness, his strength was reinforced by his state as a Tier 1 Cultivator, which gave a small boost—a boost that was further reinforced by his bionic arm and the artificial muscles of his Skin Suit. Bullets longer than a middle finger were held in a bandolier slung across his chest, ammo for the rifle in easy reach.

This technical garb and the look of a rugged, high-tech mercenary, was contrasted by a great curving sword of black metal with veins of gold running through it, hanging from his back where it was attached, sheathless, to a sling on his harness.

Odder still, a huge mouth, seeming a part of the skin-suit, lived on his stomach. It grinned and clacked its teeth loudly.

‘Quiet,’ Nicolai murmured to the Symbiote. He approached the fallen Toothbearer with cautious curiosity. He’d learned of these creatures from the Memory Tome on Spirit Beasts. They resembled dinosaurs in many ways, but also had traits of other animals—and the entirely fantastical. This one, a RedBack Toothbearer, was relatively mundane; quite low on the food chain.

He’d chosen to snipe it because he’d wanted to see how difficult it would be to kill.

There had been seen no sign of any protective Symbiotes on it, though from the ripples it’d emanated he could tell that it had a Symbiote of some kind. The Memory Tome had warned that when it came to combat, oftentimes the Symbiote a Spirit Beast held were just as—if not more—important than the other factors of species, size, and age.

These creatures were frequently hunted by Cultivators, though doing so was difficult and dangerous. Not only did they often carry Symbiotes, but many also had parts that were just as valuable. Organs, blood, horns, teeth, eyes. Depending on the Toothbearer, these could be very valuable. These were classed as Natural Resources, used to create Symbiotes. Of more immediate value was the fact that from his studies, these creatures often had actual Symbiotes within them.

He slid the M99 anti-material rifle into his storage Symbiote. The big mouth gulped and smacked its lips as it sucked the rifle, until it had disappeared into the space within. Drawing a knife he set to work, cutting into the slain Toothbearer. Its biology was a little different than he was used to, but with his Soul Sense, a type of spiritual external sense common to Cultivators, which could form either a passive sphere or be extended in a singular questing tendril, he was able to find his way easily enough.

On the Toothbearer’s corpse he found only a single Symbiote.

Red Gourd Symbiote

Type: Strength

Tier: 1

Node: Limb

This Symbiote makes a limb stronger.

He would have liked to have put it into his storage Symbiote, but items with a spiritual component, like Symbiotes and the Angelic Blade on his back, were unable to enter. Instead he tucked it into a pouch, suppressing it with his Soul Sense. Until he took the time to break the Symbiote in, it would struggle and seek to escape if not suppressed.

Nicolai glanced back, in the direction he’d come from. A faint dust cloud was still visible, from the castle he’d left behind, floating away as it collapsed. He’d put about a days travel between him and it, having moved through the entire day and spent the night sheltering in the upper branches of a tree. He’d simply been moving in a straight line because he’d merely wished to put distance between himself and the remnants of the castle. He doubted there would be any kind of pursuit, but it was a possibility nevertheless.

As he gazed into the distance he heard something. In an instant he had slipped behind the corpse of the Toothbearer and from there he peered over it at the brush. The M99 reappeared as the Big Mouth storage Symbiote spat it out and into his waiting hands.

Threat Analysis, one of the AI Modules that lived on the hardware within his brain, tracked sounds and movement then drew his gaze to one patch. Aiming, another Modules, flicked his bionic eye into thermal—black as cold, white as hot—and he made out white shapes through small gaps in the brush.

Something or someone roughly human sized was about to emerge. His eyes flicked to the left and right as the rustling extended. Multiple someones.

The first of them stepped out from the dim undercanopy, and Nicolai saw them clearly. It was not an it but a he. A human. The man had long dark hair tied in a tail and piercing green eyes. He was shorter than average and wore spotless dark-blue robes engraved with silver patterns.

There was something up with his arm, visible to Nicolai’s Cultivators eyes, which were capable of seeing spiritual signatures. A kind of blur around it, like a faint, spiritual arm, larger in size, that existed around his normal arm. A moment later more emerged, all bearing a notable resemblance to the first in size, facial features and clothing. The same patterns were on all their robes. However, only the first had that strange spiritual blur around his arm.

The group paused, gazing at Nicolai. He felt a ripple through the Aura, and he saw their Soul Senses emerging from their bodies. They’d been Shelled, a method of hiding one’s Soul Sense and restraining any Aura ripples.

Cultivators. If this was all of them, they numbered nine.

The one in the middle with the arm drew his gaze, because that one had a Soul Sense more than twice the size of any of the others; twice the size of Nicolai’s. Not only that, but the man had two, distinct Soul Sense tendrils. He knew what this meant, having learned it from Kleos, an old companion.

The man standing before him was an actual Tier 2 Cultivator, something he had yet to see in a human. Until this moment he had never seen a human higher than Tier 1. He was beginning to suspect this group hadn’t come from the castle he’d spawned in, which was now a ruin a few miles behind.

In fact he was beginning to think they weren’t even from Earth. That was confirmed when they spoke, and his BIS’s translation software failed to provide a translation. Unknown language, it told him. A moment later his Mark did a better job, and he realised they weren’t talking to him.

Where could they be from? Simulations, one of his Modules, was wondering. Some enclave on Earth, an unknown group?

They have no Local emanations, Cyberwarfare spoke up. And look at those robes—I’m pretty sure they aren’t from Earth. They’re Aliens!

Another conspiracy theory? came Threat Analysis’ mutter, alongside a sense of rolling eyes. Cyberwarfare had spoken of its ideas of aliens before.

But this time those ideas had serious credence, as Cyberwarfare pointed out via a virtual presentation delivered in only a few seconds, quickly convincing the others. The Modules found all this intensely exciting. They had always been interested in humans, and for some reason the idea of alien humans was especially intriguing. Nicolai’s own thoughts were tempered by wariness, but he couldn’t deny that he was curious, too.

While he had been staring at them, the other humans had stared back with equal curiosity. He saw faces twist as initial expressions of surprise turned to disgust and fascination. Their Soul Senses danced before them, eels writhing in the Aura, but they were too far from him—and for now the Tier 2 showed no signs of pushing forward.

‘What is that?’

‘It looks like a bug. A man-shaped bug.’

‘Are those chains wrapped around it?’

Nicolai supposed they were confused by his Skin Suit. The helmet did have a certain insectile nature to its design.

‘It is no bug. It is another of these barbarians,’ said the Tier 2, gazing at Nicolai coolly. ‘He is wearing some kind of strange covering, but his weapons are similar to the ones the others bore.’ The cold eyes narrowed. ‘He is also a Cultivator.’

‘Heaven is free with its Seeds,’ sneered one of them in response, ‘to give them to profane beings like these.’

The other muttered contemptuous agreement.

Nicolai gazed back. He opted to remain silent, biding his time as he tried to work out who they were and what they wanted. Were these natives of this world? Their Soul Senses were moving higher and extending, getting a closer look at him. Nicolai didn’t need to use his Soul Sense to look closer. He simply zoomed in with his bionic eye.

On the backs of their hands, those not tucked into sleeves, he saw gold flashing in the light. Marks of Heaven. He had one on his own hand, showing him as someone who Heaven had dragged into the Great Game, placed on this strange planet.

The fact they had Marks told him they, too, were Players within the Game. Not native to this planet, then—visitors from elsewhere, like him. But he was almost one hundred percent sure they weren’t from Earth. A truly alien race from another planet entirely, as Cyberwarfare had suspected (the Module hummed gleefully at this).

But if they were aliens they couldn’t be humans, so how was it that they looked so very much like humans?

The Tier 2’s Soul Sense was feeling carefully at the Aura some distance from Nicolai, in a way he recognised—feeling for ripples. His neck was prickling. These guys did not look at all friendly. They were checking him out; sniffing him like a pack of wolves who’d found something weird.

Trying to make up their minds as to whether he was worth eating.

Nicolai began charging his Imbued and Symbiotes, holding the anti-material rifle ready. He would retreat in a straight line to the treeline, and see how many of them he could shoot while he ran. The dark stirred within him, and he felt an answering stir from the Artifact Blade on his back, the greatsword, as the Angelic energies within it rose in natural opposition.

The Tier 2’s Soul Sense froze, and he saw the man jerk with shock.

An odd reaction. Nicolai tightened his grip on the rifle and raised it a little higher, curious as to why the Cultivator had reacted so, curious as to what he would say.

The Cultivator’s eyes were wide. ‘A Tier 3 Artifact!’

The others exclaimed, shocked, mouths gaping.

‘A Tier 3!’

‘How can a barbarian have such a treasure?!’

There it is. Nicolai saw it immediately because he’d been looking for it, twisting their faces and glimmering in their eyes. Greed.

‘Kill him! Seize it!’ cried the Tier 2. His twinned Soul Sense snapped back into him and then he stretched out his arm, and around it the spiritual arm began to grow. The man’s Soul Sense was pouring into it, seeming to merge with it. The Aura erupted with ripples as all the other Cultivators activated Symbiotes alongside their leader.

As the Thrill and the Dark began to rise, the anti-material rifle seemed to shiver, eager in Nicolai’s grasp. An eagerness he mirrored.