Pov: Vik
The tea in my ceramic cup had become completely cold, but I didn't take the trouble to warm it. Any manifestation of Qi—such as a faint flame flickering from a fingertip—had a clear energetic frequency. For an ordinary cultivator it was merely ambient heat; for an automated detection array, or even worse, for an algorithmic evaluation tool used in an alien system, it was a blinking beacon on a mini-map.
I whispered to Lina, not moving my lips very much and at the same time keeping my eyes directed through the slats of the window shutter, "Activate the auditory dampener. Use the smallest radius possible, only covering the four corners of this table."
"Understood, Master," Lina said quietly.
She never moved her hands in wide, sweeping gestures. Under the edge of the table, her thin fingers pushed a small silver needle into the underside of the grain. A slight and barely noticeable bubble of local sonic suppression secured our area. To the server who was carrying trays of steamed buns behind us and the merchant arguing about silk tariffs at the adjacent stall, we were just four tired travelers having cheap drinks in silence.
Lu Xiaoran had his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes kept scanning towards the distant balcony where Ruby was standing; he looked as if he were coiled up, like an archer who had drawn his string fully back, waiting for a command that wasn't coming.
"Master," Xiaoran whispered, and tilted his head a little forward. "Since she's only a fifth-circle mage, couldn't Roman and I make a distraction at the eastern gate while you and Noah go for the ancestral shrine? That way we'd surround her— a pincer movement? A fifth-circle mage isn't even a grandmaster yet, so in an open fight one well-aimed blow from Roman's staff would split her barrier in two."
"As for what will happen when her system sends out a signal to us to indicate that you have drawn your sword, I replied, my tone level and with absolutely no humour. You think the way a native cultivator does, Xiaoran; you base your thoughts on circle hierarchies, spell ranks, and martial stats."
I reached up and lightly scratched Pushpa behind the ears while her small paws were resting against my wrist.
I went on to say that transmigrators don't follow martial logic, not just addressing Xiaoran but making sure that Noah heard each and every word. A native prodigy has to spend years in seclusion, take medicinal baths, and gain a deep understanding of life and death in order to reach the fifth circle, whereas a transmigrator possessing a Devouring System merely converts living flesh, spirit stones, or bloodlines into raw numerical values. Even when she has reached the fifth circle, her danger does not come from the amount she is currently producing—it stems from the safety measures of her system; as soon as she feels herself trapped, her interface will give her emergency buffs, high-tier evasion talismans, or an instant breakthrough protocol so as to turn the crisis into a dramatic advance.
Noah tightened his jaw. "She did it while we were fighting," he said, his voice cold and steady, although there was a slight bitterness about it. "I had checked out her realm before the battle. At that time she was only just managing to reach the 3rd circle. But as soon as my spear went through her outer barrier, her eyes turned a pure black, her mana leapt straight up to the 4th circle in a flash, and my spear broke down into dust."
"It was her system carrying out an emergency survival procedure," I said, nodding slowly. "That was a script-controlled intervention. If we attack her directly, we'll make the script protect her. But systems have rules; they are computational constructions based on the fundamental laws of nature. They have cooldown periods. They have limits on the conversion of resources. And most importantly, they lack the ability to perceive anything that doesn't appear in their approved power database."
I tapped the table with my index finger, and at that spot a slight, invisible trace of Prana circulated like a strand of living ivy.
In her world's database prana is not recorded; it is likewise absent from the orthodox cultivation records of this world. According to her appraisal interface my body appears as that of an unrefined, ordinary scholar with weak meridians and Noah's is described as that of a disabled human whose Dantian has been completely pulverised.
I smiled very slightly, even though there was no warmth in it.
We are like ghosts moving within her field of vision. As soon as you abandon your stealth for a dramatic entrance, she gets an enemy to calibrate against. We do not become her enemy; instead we act as an environmental hazard that asphyxiates her without having a face.
"Host," the System's voice echoed quietly within my mind, without its usual playful tone. "Optical analysis is complete. The target's energetic baseline has been confirmed at the 5th-circle Grand Mage level. However, the obsidian ring on the target's hand has been identified and it corresponds to the signature of an Outer Void Parasitic Core—called the 'Gluttony Protocol'. This device feeds on raw ambient vitality and on bloodlines that it has stolen in order to produce purified mana."
I mentally asked, 'Can you read its skill parameters?'
No, because if an active scan were carried out it would set off an anti-tamper firewall on her end and cause her system to detect the presence of an external administrator. However, from the residual mana fluctuations resulting from her previous kills it has been found that her core exhibits three different operational patterns: first, an active suction field covering a radius of twenty metres; second, an automated defensive barrier which kicks in when there is a lethal kinetic impact; and third, a passive soul-anchor which attaches her foreign consciousness to the ring.
I thought to myself, pressing my yellow eyes together behind my spectacles, that she isn't completely fused with the mortal body yet; the shell of a fifth-circle cultivator is still fragile and that if the soul-anchor is cut away, she won't only lose her cultivation but her soul will be violently rejected by the body.
Outside, the deep ring of an iron bell started to resound over the plaza.
CLANG.
CLANG.
CLANG.
The people below rushed towards the courtyard gates and the trumpets, made of polished brass, were blown from the stone battlements while the guards, who wore ceremonial silver breastplates, pushed the wandering cultivators and merchants into the assigned viewing areas.
Ruby stepped forward from the upper balcony and placed her hands on the jade balustrade. Her delicate face had a calm, almost saintly look as she looked down on the hundreds of nobles who were bowing before her. To them, she was a rising star of the fifth circle—a miracle talent quickly advancing through the ranks of the Heavenly Sword Pavilion, and there for the purpose of cleansing the supposed sins of the Bloodborn clan.
Next to her, a tall man in heavy crimson velvet moved forward to the amplified voice rune.
Citizens of West Oak City! Respectful guests of the Central Plains! said the man in a loud voice, his tone having the clear, arrogant ring of City Governor Vance. "Today, with the Heavenly Sword Pavilion and our highly respected Junior Elder Ruby as witnesses, the land once cursed by the Bloodborn family will be restored to the light! The ancestral lands, the spirit quarries, and the sacred bloodline chambers will be made available to those who are worthy of heaven's blessing!"
The sycophants in the front rows gave a loud and thunderous cheer.
Roman placed the palms of his hands flat upon his knees. The coarse burlap wrapping the Ivory Cleaver shifted a little underneath the table, but the huge man did not move a single inch. He kept his eyes down, remaining perfectly still, and his breathing matched the regular rhythm of an uncarved boulder.
I calmly told Lina, then turned my eyes back to the window, "Are the recording runes working?"
"Yes, Master," she whispered, placing her fingers gently upon the brass frame of her spectacles. "Each fluctuation of mana, each variation in her voice, and each movement of her ring is being recorded. I am measuring the latency of her barrier activation."
Very well. I took the cold teacup, stirred the remaining liquid in it, and drank it off until the last drop was gone. Noah, look carefully at the auction site; when they open the bloodline vault they'll produce the ancestral tokens. Let me know which one has the seal upon the family's ancestral tombs.
Noah lifted his eyes slightly so as to look through the gap in the shutter. His pupils shone with a dark and terrifying clarity.
Regarding the black jade tablet bearing the coiled dragon crest, Noah replied without showing the slightest tremor. It doesn't merely serve to open the tombs, Master; rather, it houses the main anchor of the city's underground defensive system. She is currently at the fifth circle, but should she absorb the ancestral essence stored within that tablet her ring will eat up the lineage power and cause a direct breakthrough into the sixth circle. If she obtains that tablet, she won't only come to control our estate; she will take control of the entire city's protective boundary.
"So that's where she'll devote her resources,' I said in a soft voice and placed the cup on the saucer without making the slightest noise.'
Pushpa moved around my wrist and wrapped her tail more tightly round, fixing her golden slit pupils on the smiling girl who was on the balcony.
Let her make the bid. Let her have the celebration. Let her think that each piece on the board is perfectly fitting into place. Just as a hunter who is waiting for a tiger does not throw stones into the tall grass, he waits until the animal takes the bait, swallows the hook, and starts to choke.