Gleam Karma Cultivator Isekai

Two weeks went by, and the pay for their first job arrived in the form of a bulky letter that was slipped through a slot in their front door. As it turned out, the monsters they’d brought into the Shikari base had netted them a total of fifty gold – forty for the Greater Imp and ten for the Lesser. Maria’s door cost thirty gold, but she had refused to accept payment from the Shikari Guild, so they had not been docked for their damages.

Yeo had suggested they spend all money on gear upgrades, while Bella said it would be better if they put it into a bank. Chance was more interested in figuring out how much money it would cost to track his parents down.

They all decided to cultivate first, then deal with what to do with their money later, and so they retreated to their rooms. Several days in, what Chance could only describe as a wave of energy washed over him, ripping him out of his meditation.

He’d rushed out of the room, only to find Bella’s door completely iced over. Black tendrils of frost stretched out along the floor and into the hall like winter had staked claim over a portion of the Whiteheart house.

Pete had ushered him away, saying it was of vital importance not to bother Bella until she emerged. Just a day later, Yeo’s room followed the same path. Spikes of ferrous metal erupted from his door and down into the kitchen below, nearly stabbing Pete while he was making breakfast.

By that point, he already had a sneaking suspicion of what was happening, and Pete confirmed it. Both of them were advancing to the Squire rank. Chance had returned to his room, redoubling his focus on meditating, but such things could not be forced.

If anything, his extra effort only seemed to slow his progress down. Compared to his initial bursts of advancement, all Chance was met with now was frustration. Still, he plugged away, contemplating the meaning of Karma and how he could finagle his way into getting to Squire as well.

He didn’t consider himself a particularly prideful person, but he didn’t want to be the only one in his team that was a lower rank.

When his eyes opened and he found himself sitting in the Old City across from Yamish, Chance was almost grateful. They were in the ruined town square once more.

“You are troubled,” Yamish observed.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure that my teammates both advanced to the Squire rank, and I’m still a Foundling.”

“And you are jealous.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m jealous. I just don’t want to be left behind.”

Yamish cocked an eyebrow. “You are lying to yourself.”

Chance opened his mouth, then closed it with a click. “I – well, maybe. I want to get stronger. Magi – uh, Essence is incredible. There was nothing like this on Earth, and it’s like a dream come true to be able to do all the things I can now. And that makes me want to be able to do more. I guess that’s pretty selfish, isn’t it?”

And if I can’t get stronger, I can’t stop whatever it is that you’re planning for me.

“It is the path of cultivation. It is why we all seek the truth,” Yamish replied. “There is nothing wrong with desiring strength. Strength begets happiness. But attempting to force it will lead nowhere.”

“I was starting to gather that myself. Also, I guess they’ve been cultivating for far longer than I have. It wouldn’t make sense for me to progress as quickly as them.”

Yamish cocked his head to the side. “Have they?”

“I mean, I only got here a month ago.”

Yamish let out a noncommittal grunt. “Curious. The girl’s advancement was long in the waiting. Her ties to Vex delayed her by years. Now that she walks her own path, she will find her progress quick until she reaches her proper strength.”

“I can’t imagine Vex is very happy about that,” Chance said nervously. “Is he going to cause her trouble?”

“Yes,” Yamish replied. “Almost certainly.”

“Can you–”

“No.”

“Right. karmic ties.”

“Correct,” Yamish said. “I have already done more than you know. If I had not, the girl would be dead. Vex already plans to break our promise, but in a way that he believes I will not notice.”

“That’s… concerning. Thank you for what you’ve already done to help, though. Oh, what about Yeo? He’s advancing as well, isn’t he?”

“He is competitive. The drive will serve him well.”

“I can’t help but notice he advanced right after Bella. Do you think…”

“She drove him to advance? It is possible. I hold no great interest in either of your companions. We have no karmic ties.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Chance muttered. He glanced around the square. “So, why am I here this time? I don’t see any monsters.”

“It will arrive.”

That wasn’t ominous at all. Chance couldn’t help but notice that there was a very distinct lack of an urumi in his general vicinity. “I don’t have my weapon. Did you forget to bring it over?”

“No. The Old City will aid you in solving your troubles. Thus, you will not need a weapon.”

“Wait, it’s helping me?” Chance asked. “But I thought I was the one that owed it karmic debt! Isn’t this going to make it worse?”

Yamish shook his head. “Gifts that are paid for cannot establish debt. The Old City judges your cleansing of its streets to be equal pay for its assistance in your advancement.”

Chance swallowed. “Okay. So, what do I do?”

“You cultivate,” Yamish replied. Chance blinked, then sat down and crossed his legs, preparing to start meditating. It certainly wouldn’t have been the strangest thing Yamish had made him do.

Heavy footfalls echoed from the darkness, accompanied by the heavy scrape of metal on stone. A bulbous purple Imp tottered out of an alleyway, two curled horns jutting out of its forehead. The creature’s beady black eyes fell on Chance and it stepped further into the square, dragging a gnarled black axe along the stone behind it.

Chance leapt to his feet. “Yamish, how am I supposed to cultivate while there’s a monster here?”

“There are many ways to cultivate,” Yamish replied. “I suggest you start by dodging.”

The Imp let out a warbling cry and loped toward Chance. The hideous screech of metal on the cobbled stone filled the alley. It wasn’t nearly as fast as the Soothound, but the monster was nimble for its warped body.

Chance’s third eye opened, and strands of karma shimmered into being around the imp. There were dozens, and many were thick. He darted back as the Imp blurred into motion, bringing its axe crashing down on the ground where he’d been seconds before.

It swung again, not giving him a chance to get close enough to one of the strands. Chance cursed, dipping back while wishing he still had his urumi. The Imp screeched and raced after him, forcing Chance to turn tail and run.

They ran around the arena, Chance just barely able to keep his lead over the Imp. He did his best to contemplate Karma and cultivate like Yamish had suggested, but it wasn’t particularly easy when he could feel the Imp’s rancid breath on his neck.

Chance threw himself into a diagonal roll, narrowly avoiding an axe swing, and plucked one of the karmic strands near the Imp’s feet. A glowing fist slammed into its stomach, knocking the air out of it, but faded before the rest of the body could form.

The attack only served to make his opponent angrier. The Imp screamed in fury and leapt at him. Chance dove, just barely passing under the monster’s swing. He shot back to his feet and took off before it could land a lucky blow.

Karma, Luck, Essence – gah. I can’t focus on this. There’s a monster trying to kill me. How are you supposed to be relaxed and contemplative when your head is one good chop from being removed from its rightful position?

The Imp screeched, rudely interrupting Chance’s thoughts. He spun, twisting his body to the side as the weapon just barely missed him once more, then grabbed another karmic strand. A golden claw raked across the Imp’s chest and blood poured out, staining the stone beneath it red.

Chance ran away again. Snarling, the monster hounded after him, hatred burning in its eyes. It was getting faster. The blows were growing closer to Chance every swing, leaving him with literally no time to think about anything other than the fight.

Every fiber of his being had to be focused. The slightest distraction would spell an axe in his head and the end of his excursion on Centurion. Unbeknownst to him, the thoughts that had been bouncing around in the back of his head were banished as well.

The longing to find his parents. His awe of Yeo’s abilities and of Bella’s sacrifices. His appreciation for Pete’s kindness and his desire to grow stronger. All of it faded. And, in that absence of thought, warmth bloomed.

Searing heat wrapped around Chance’s heart in a feeling he knew all too well. It spread into his veins, spiderwebbing throughout his body and raising in temperature steadily. Chance grimaced, trying to push it back, but it would not be denied.

The Imp spotted Chance’s weakness and leapt at him, bringing the axe down for his neck. Then it was gone, splattered into the ground by a massive golden hand that appeared from the air above its head. Even its axe had been crushed flat.

“Do not resist it,” Yamish said. “Do not let anything slip past you.”

Chance barely registered his words. The heat was so intense that he felt like his blood was boiling. He slumped to the ground, gasping for air as golden light bloomed in his vision. It slowly enveloped the Old City, and he saw no more.

The burning in his chest faded into the background and awareness nudged its way back. Chance groaned as shapes started to appear in the gold, tracing themselves in line by line. He wiped his eyes with the back of a hand and tried to squint through the light.

He wasn’t in the Old City anymore. Chance sat on a soft red rug in what could be described only as an enormous auditorium. It stretched out in every direction as far as the eye could see, eventually reaching massive, mural covered walls.

The building was so big that clouds had gathered on the ceiling, but he could still make out faint flickers of artwork behind them. Hundreds of thousands of other rugs were laid across the ground in even rows, but they were all empty.

But none of that was what caught his attention. They were simply mere flickers of information before every fiber of his mind abruptly became aware of the being in the center of the room.

A massive, featureless man with glowing golden skin sat cross-legged on a mat the size of a small stadium. He towered above the room, his head nearly brushing the clouds. Eight arms extending from his back formed a circle behind him, framing the enormous figure.

Dull roaring filled Chance’s ears. A massive, invisible ocean of energy filled the room, pressing down in on him from every side. Somehow, Chance knew that the only thing keeping his consciousness from being snuffed out like a candle was the rug he sat on.

The Essence in the room spiraled around the seated man, forming a whirlpool of glittering light near his chest. Chance stared, enraptured. He couldn’t have torn his eyes away from the scene if he wanted to.

His eyes were drawn to the center of the vortex, where a mote of dark Essence was growing in man’s chest. He realized that there were actually six more of the dots, in a straight line starting at the top of the man’s head and ending just below his hips.

The world shuddered. Pieces of the ground snapped and were sucked into the vortex of light, revealing a sea of stars surrounding them. They glittered like the eyes of an eldritch god, watching as the auditorium was torn apart, piece by piece.

Chance’s teeth vibrated as the rumbling grew louder. The light faded as features started to grow more defined on the man’s enormous body. His smooth skin gained definition even as the vortex at his chest churned even faster.

A nose and lips formed, followed by wrinkles formed through years of joyful laughter. Long, gray hair sprouted from the man’s head as two brilliant blue eyes slowly opened. For the merest instant, he and Chance made eye contact.

The man smiled.

The world shattered.