Reforged from Ruin [Eldritch Xianxia Cultivation]

She sits in a chamber warded to the high heavens, glowing with enough power to pulverize her current form to paste with a simple command.

Arrayed across the table from her are members of more than a dozen different organizations, each one powerful enough to equal or surpass Bin Wei and his world-altering power. She might, might, be able to fight most of them to a standstill, one-on-one. She gives herself pretty low odds of winning even a single fight with any of them, though not zero.

Arrogant, maybe. She likes to think it as… informed yet upbeat.

She sits on a fancy little pillow, at the front of the table, stared at by dozens of eyes, each and every one tracking every minute detail of her being, her appearance, her movement, her slightest twitch.

She clicks her wrist, unrolling a piece of waxy paper from inside her wrist, and lets a small clump of blue moss and assorted ingredients slip from her other hand to fall onto the table.

"Now I don't know about you all, but after something that fun, I tend to enjoy a little smoke. Anyone else?"

She cocks an eyebrow, raising the half-rolled cigarette to the table. To her amusement (and, for once, not to Qin Yana's annoyance), Bin Wei nods, and she hands him the first one, sealed by spit and ready to light.

"Just him? Come on, I know at least some of you think of yourselves as young. Live a little. Don't let the old man here show you up in front of your friends."

Silence.

The cultivators in the room are universally elders, many of them wearing artifacts that she's sure are recording the proceedings to gift them to other, more powerful figures behind them. Most of them seem only vaguely human to her senses, in spite of how they dress themselves up on the surface.

It's strange, getting a feel for what's under the surface of their skins. They have heartbeats, organs, assorted fibers and veins, but they seem… vague. Poorly defined in a way that Raika can't quite put her fingers on, and she's pretty sure she won't be able to get a closer look without some serious plotting. It's not that their systems are wrong, just indistinct, alien in some indefinite way- as if they are human, for sure, same as before, but also somehow not, and then also somehow something more.

Cultivation bullshit. She's gotten as annoyed with it as she is appreciative.

She finishes rolling her own cigarette, lighting it with a flick of True Flame that draws more than a few eyes. Slowly, she inhales, letting out the smoke only after she's pulled half the cigarette away into her lungs.

It still hurts.

The smoke kicks in, a little stronger than her usual batch, numbing her senses just enough. Not as much as before, not so much that it damages her perception or neutralizes the overstimulation- just enough that the pain moves a bit further back.

It'll be someone else's turn at the smoke soon. She has to enjoy it while she still can.

The smoke makes a bit of a haze around her as she exhales, savoring the flavor of cold, of something herbal and fleshy at once, fresh and crisp and smoldering.

Then she opens her eyes again, and looks at the table in front of her.

They didn't have room for every sect, and even if they did, she knows the others wouldn't have allowed them in. Can't give too much face, after all, even if the others have every right to listen. There are exactly ten sects in the room, half of which represent the "lower" sects;

The Watchful Fields sect, one of the greater sects of the Land of the Verdant Dragon at the base of the Morae, obviously tied to her and as likely as any other to have information on her nature.

The Dancing Clouds sect, a well-known figure famous for their mercantile connections and political maneuvering, in spite of being viewed as relatively harmless. Helps that they own the auction house, as well as the room they now sit in- to not allow them entry would be worse than harmful, it would demand that they not give face to the ones most directly tied to Raika's performance.

The Bleak Falls sect, a name that surprised her for its creativity. They apparently work near the base of one of the other peaks of Morae's Lament, and dress in pitch-dark clothes, their faces painted a startling white. Something to do with waterfalls and executions, if she's gotten their vibe right. They've been silent since she arrived, perfectly still, and if she had to guess, they probably act as information-brokers of some sort. She doesn't get a strong "threat" vibe from them, which cinches it for her- any Warrior Realm cultivators that don't read like a threat are the ones hiding it well.

Divine Blade sect, apparently famous for their sword cultivators (something she's made sure to take note of- they could probably be useful to spy on, and she's pretty sure she can sneak back a nodule to grow from on them). A big name, but not a world-shaking one; their inclusion seems based on their martial might and their numbers more than any political clout, a threat pointed nakedly at her throat.

Lastly, from the "lower" sects, a lone figure sits, bored, off to one side, dressed in bright yellow and green colors. Representing, apparently, the Dancing Drake sect, though she's not sure why the purple-hued man is the only one from his group here.

And then, of course, the big five.

The Peak of the Azure Serpent, hints of blue scales running across skin of all shades, tasting of serpentine depths and cold, venom-tinged storms.

The Peak of the Golden Tiger, their eyes slitted like felines, their auras glowing with a resplendence that is as self-important as it is lethal to look upon.

The Peak of the Flaming Phoenix, hints of plumage and flame edging out from their eyes and hands, heating the air around them painfully.

The Peak of the Iron Tortoise, glowing like steel, reflecting strange lights and home to living things that are as unbreakable as the metal they exude.

The Peak of the Thundering Tempest, their hair crackling with static, their eyes glistening with electric light, their skin pale and lightning-scarred.

The five most important players in the whole nation, each of them glowing with their own power, each of them exuding their own gravity, surrounded by those who either ally against her or would not hesitate to cast her away if she became too heavy a burden.

She exhales again, letting out another cloud- and enjoying the sound of Bin Wei smothering a cough, raising an eyebrow at her as he exhales some of the same smoke.

Ok, so maybe it's a little strong.

"So," she says, "I hear you all would like a word."

A snarl from the oldest, tallest member of the Iron Tortoise delegation, a hint of a horizon she recognizes-

A hand, raised to silence him. How much of it is a performance, she's not sure, but safe to assume all of it.

"We have gained… some small degree of insight into you. Raika the Bloody, you call yourself."

"Actually, someone else gave me that name. Not an origin I'm proud of, but I think I've made it my own."

"An escaped weapon of the Divisions. An envoy of the distant Empire, beyond the edge of the world."

"Hmm, half right."

"And now you come to our lands, with this blatant defiance of our customs, and seek to insult us before the entirety of the Jianghu?"

The last sentence is a thunderclap in the room, the air stirring violently alongside his voice. She feels her neural-locks swing back over her shoulder with the wind, and also dully notices that the haze she's emitting is heavy enough to actually move less than the rest of the air around her. Ain't that neat.

"That's pretty much the jist of it, yes."

Something moves, faster than she can dodge, and blows a crater through the arm she threw up in front of her face. The projectile, whatever it was, makes it through the entirety of her permitted armors, through hyper-dense bone and saturated muscle, and digs a few inches into her skull through her eye socket.

She coughs, spasms, experiences a moment of disorientation from the sudden shock of brain damage-

She spits out a dense little ball of lead, closing the wounds.

"Well. I won't say that wasn't… a little bit fair."

"We do not bow to the servants of a distant dream of conquest. We are the Peaks of the world, highest beneath the Heavens, and-"

"Untrue."

She smiles when a second lead ball doesn't crater the front of her face this time. Still, she can tell it's not just those from the Tortoise Peak that are starting to get tired of her. There's only so much that a mysterious background and fabulous resources can buy you in the face of overwhelming pride.

"What I mean to say," she says, taking another drag of her cigarette, "is that I am not a servant of any but myself. Call me a rogue agent, if you like. Oh, I have goals aplenty, but they bow to the Emperor only as much as you do."

"A perversion of the title," comes another voice. One of the cultivators from the Divine Blade sect, bright red hair trailing behind her and caressing the naked sword that hovers there. "The Emperor Realm is a place that has been known and embraced by thousands before the pretender, and will be overcome by thousands more to come."

Raika shrugs. "Fair enough. I meant no offense- it is what it calls itself, and what those within its borders call it. The Emperor of Emperors."

"And you think that-"

"I have a lot of thoughts. Maybe you'll shut up long enough for me to say them."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

She's getting really good at creating stunned silences.

Whoever the woman is, she's clearly important, clearly powerful, and clearly not expecting to be interrupted. Raika can see the… approximation of veins in her body, pumping blood to her heart, preparing the hormonal rush of rage and adrenaline-

Someone else moves this time. Subtle, barely noticeable, but it's there. A pulse of Qi from one of the Peaks, though Raika's doesn't actually care which one.

Good.

The ruder she is, the more they react. The more they react, the more she learns, the more tools she can use. To a point, of course.

She'd survive her head vaporizing… but she wouldn't. That would defy the whole point of her training. A conundrum, and a challenge.

She sighs, bowing her head a bit to the redheaded woman. "Apologies. It's been a… rather draining day, and I have many new husbands and wives to attend to before I can rest again. I'm afraid I'm not quite so inexhaustible as you cultivators."

"So you admit it, then?" comes a new voice. Colder, calmer, its wielder an old, rail-thin man with drake-like scales running down his face like tear marks. "That you are an experiment? A rogue thing?"

"Oh yes. I had my dantian shattered, my meridians burst open, and my spiritual organs as a whole thoroughly ruined, few years back. Then, I figured out how to make myself something new. A few particular figures in the Divisions took notice, gave me some resources and motivation to grow, and now, here I am."

"...and is that what you offer us? A divulgence of secrets, in exchange for justice against those who have made you as you are?"

She cocks her head, letting a bit of anger leak into her eyes at his words.

"No, senior. I made me as I am, and any retribution I desire will be my own. No, that's not why I'm here- but you're close."

"Enough of this."

One of the hulking figures of the Golden Tiger peak stands up, towering over the table and everyone on it. Bin Wei shifts, as do some of the lesser cultivators behind the Dancing Clouds sect (which, she notices, includes Li Tianfeng)- but a flex of his cultivation is enough to cow them.

He transmits Intent all his own, crude and shallow though it is. It's enough that she, and everyone else in the room, can have no doubts about his willingness to tear apart this room and these negotiations if his confrontation is not permitted.

She lets out a little smoke, smiling indulgently. "Yes?"

"You come to this place, give us no face, approach none of the Peaks or the greater sects, waste heaven-sent resources on cultivators that are no better than loose bandits, and then come here with this disrespect? This daddy is having none of it. I-"

"This daddy? Is that a real-"

His hand is around her throat, and she is pinned against the far wall.

She didn't see him move. Hmm.

Interesting.

"SILENCE! I will not have this blatant disregard for our way of life, our authority, the sanctity of the Jianghu! Your actions will lead to the proliferation of chaos, injustice, and your riches will not protect you from the will of the defenders of Morae!"

She nods (rather awkward with her neck pinned the way it is), letting a bit more smoke leak from her nostrils. The others don't move, her allies outnumbered and unsecured, her enemies willing to see her torn apart- this, almost as much as the auction, is just another test.

Because of course, for all their pretty pretenses, they are as they are. The rich and powerful, confronting the unknown and the "disrespectful" with violence until it is cowed or broken.

Fuck that.

She stabs him in the gut.

He blinks, then inhales- then steps backward, letting go of her neck, his eyes wide.

She's been practising. That was the whole point, right? To get stronger?

Well, having an indeterminate, vague internal makeup apparently doesn't erase the presence of nerves. And if you stab a small, say, claw, right through some of the superficial abdominal muscles and into the liver-area, you can poke right into some of the most subtle and weird-feeling mechanisms and nerves in the body.

Not enough to kill him, but certainly more of a surprise than he was expecting, delivered free-of-Qi as it was.

But that won't do. It's not enough.

She moves so fast she blurs, not nearly as kind to physics as the cultivators are, cracking through the sound barrier to grab him back by the throat. His eyes flick to her, centuries or more of experience clicking into place-

And then she kisses him.

He chokes, splutters- and only barely recovers in time to catch himself as she lets him fall.

And then she's past him, sitting back down at the table.

"Sorry about that. Rather rude little interruption. As I was saying, I'm not here for-"

"YOU DARE! I will-"

"You will do nothing, or I'll kiss you harder next time. Sit down and stop making threats- there'll be plenty of time to kill me after you hear what I have to say."

There are more than a few smiles around the table, right alongside more than a few raised auras- and Raika just sits there, bored as can be, her heartbeat audible to anyone willing to listen and stone-calm.

Being able to control every part of your biology has its advantages.

It takes a few seconds, but as she begins to roll her second cigarette of the meeting, she hears quiet steps traveling past her, back towards his section of the table.

She doesn't need to look at him to feel the radioactive heat of his glare- so she doesn't. What's another enemy for life at this point?

"So. One more time. I'm not here under the authority of the Emperor, nor any of its Divisions, nor any will beyond my own. I am speaking to you as I am speaking to the Pack, as I am speaking to the tribes of the Many and All, as I am speaking to the Fallen Kingdom. I am speaking to you because war is coming, and this little show was the simplest, most certain way I could think of to get all the people in this room into this room. And now here we are."

Silence in the chamber.

Then-

"Ko. Aria. Nameless, and formerly of the Crashing Rainfall sect, a lesser group along the mid-range of the Peak of the Azure Serpent."

She very carefully does not let her gaze dart to the one speaking. One of the figures from the Phoenix-group, the flames around their eyes crinkling as if in laughter despite the cold of their expression.

"They are yours, yes?"

"They are," she says, finishing the roll and lighting the smoke.

"Then, for their sakes, perhaps you would do well with speaking plainly to this audience that has deigned to give you such face."

A smile, colder than ice and tinged with flickers of flame at the corners, like hints of lipstick.

Raika smiles back, matching the expression muscle for muscle. "Mmh. Sure."

A slow pull, enough to numb her again- not as much as she wants, not as much as it used to be, but enough that she can tell.

"The war of beasts, throwing themselves into an endless grinder, has no bearing on the Jianghu," the elder continues, her flames crackling along the sounds of her speech. "If anything, it will make more difficult the acquisition of beast cores for a few years. Then, they will breed as freely as before, and in the meantime, we will experience peace in which to harvest. What you call war, we call a fortunate circumstance. If you seek to convince us otherwise with paltry flesh-tokens, you will be sorely disappointed."

Raika raises her hands wide, in a "who, me?" sort of gesture.

"I wouldn't dare, senior. Your pragmatism does you a credit. No, I have no intentions of convincing you of the morality of the fight- that is a foregone conclusion here, hmm?"

"Then what is it you seek?" Asks a voice of crackling lightning, speaking up for the first time since they sat down.

"Oh, it's simple. I can't convince you to join, so I'm just going to pay you."

A series of blinks around the table. One of the figures from the gold-kitty-mountain rears up, growling like her master behind her- "You dare treat us as common mercenaries? I-"

"Not at all. I treat you as wise and selfish masters that seek the peaks. You want to see immortality, want to surpass the Heavens- and I'm willing to bet that not one peak Emperor Realm master in the Jianghu has managed to reach the Titan Realm in the last two-thousand odd years. Am I right?"

The silence, and the frightful intensity of the glares sent her way, tell her as much as she needs to know.

"And they won't. Or… they will, maybe, if they had a few more millenia and as many resources as they could want. But this war is going to drain more than just the beasts. The wisdom and artifacts of the Fallen Kingdom are marching to the Wall, to break themselves and be lost forever. The Pack takes all its children for one great advance, such that many species that you rely on for resources will vanish in the next few years. The Overgrowth itself is a part of this fight, and is committing every resource it has as a member of said Pack- I'm willing to swear it by Truespeak. Everything you rely on for growth is going to die or be absorbed by the Empire in the next few years, and once they are swept away, it will march out here and do the same to all of you and your precious Jianghu."

"We have endured three millennia of the tyrant's delusions, and we will-"

"No. You've endured three millennia of the tyrant's disdain. I'm from the Empire. The fucking air is better there. Children reach the Qi-Gathering Realm by accident. Your only advantage against them is that you have a higher average number of Nascent Soul and Warrior Realm cultivators- that will not protect you from them having ten times more in total. The Emperor hoards infinite wealth for the smallest behind its iron Wall, and its elites live in luxury and power such that they waste in a month what the Jianghu uses in a year."

"You dare to-"

She slams a hand on the table, the stone cracking beneath her palm.

"You are small. The Jianghu is one tenth the size of the Empire, if that, and without the Overgrowth it is barren compared to the land beyond the Wall. What little you have, they will take from you the moment they're done with the rest."

She exhales.

Cool it. Calm. She's not going to convince them by making them afraid, they're much too arrogant for that. Hells, push too hard and she'll start giving some of them the idea that the Empire might be the better bet.

Bring it back.

"But. You do, in fact, have the higher number of cultivators in the upper realms, relative to your numbers. Imagine what you could do with their resources. Imagine what you could do once the Wall is fallen, and those plump lands are ripe for the taking by proper warriors, rather than tyrants and bureaucrats. And in the meantime, you'll be benefiting from an opportunity to study, trade with, and harvest from all those alongside you, for in the heat of battle, who can say where a treasure ends up? Who can deny having earned such majesties?"

But then, she shrugs.

"It's not enough to convince you, I know. It won't be, until you see the evidence of my words. So, in the meantime, I'll pay you."

She exhales. She inhales.

It's time.

She's done her part.

Now it's up to the rest of her.

Raika feels something shift inside her mind, the needles within dissolving, and feels herself expand inwards and down and out.

And then she smiles as she unfurls, opening a doorway deeper inside herself than she's exposed to the air in a long time.

The glow of Concepts irradiates the room, bouncing against defensive artifacts and techniques raised, bright in the eyes of stunned onlookers.

Her Heart pulses, and a garden of Dao writhes, and a world filled with Souls and materials beyond the ken of mortal physics pulses, promising something no cultivator of the Jianghu can deny.

Opportunity.

She smiles wide at the looks on their faces, Warriors with centuries or more of experience staring slack-jawed at her inner world.

"So. Shall we negotiate?"

"No."

She blinks, and there is suddenly a man who Is Not There beside her.

A halo circles his head, glowing with threads of something she feels tug deeper than anything but her Heart, bright and alien and promising Fates untold. They seem strained, pulsing tightly- and tied to her and a dozen more figures in the room.

His eyes glint with the brightness of a jade forest.

In his hand is a blade, darker than dark, blacker than black, hilted with the white of a Cold Sun.

The blade comes up, and though she moves fast enough to ignite the air around her, though she pulls every part of herself as far away from him as she can- it still touches her.

Everything goes black.