He was guided through several more corridors and to another thick metal door, which Scarface unlocked seemingly by touch. The sound of the prison hit Rix fully then, a lively hum of activity that wouldn’t have sounded out of place in the Lantern District.

  The door led to a large open space built from grey stone. It had a sandy floor, and rows of tiered steps up one side where men and women sat talking, playing games or simply in quiet contemplation. Despite stretching for several hundred feet in either direction, it was completely enclosed by a heavy roof. Apparently, sunlight was not considered essential for prisoner health. There were many doorways scattered around the room, marking it as a central location from which to access other parts of the prison. The entire space also had a parapet running around its edge. He could see several guards perched on that ledge. They didn’t seem to be paying him any mind.

  As he took in the sight, he also noticed that everything here, from the doors to the heavy grey stone of the walls to the floor itself, radiated something, a kind of energy. He’d never felt anything like it before, but he assumed it had something to do with mana. From what he understood, Whispers and Sparks shouldn’t have the power to punch through stone, but who knew what sort of monsters lurked within these walls?

  He could only feel the sensation within a few feet of himself, like he’d gained a sixth sense that operated within a very narrow sphere. It could only be what people referred to as the Martial Soul’s spirit eye. From what he understood, this was also what allowed Martial Souls to determine each other’s strengths, but when he turned his attention to Scarface, he noticed nothing. If he hadn’t known better, he’d have said the man had no mana at all. Perhaps he had some masking capability.

  A few prisoners were playing a game of soulshot on the sandy pitch. Rix had played on more than one occasion back home, but the game never looked like this. The way the players ducked and leapt and ran was a level above anything he’d encountered before. They moved like the wild cats that haunted the forest on the outskirts of the city. Martial Souls in motion.

  Despite their inhuman athleticism, there was also a quality to them that made Rix pause. He expected them to look strong, powerful, like warriors of myth, and while some did, many were quite the opposite: pale and hollow-cheeked.

  To his dismay, they were all wearing identical red sleeveless robes. He’d been hoping to keep a low profile at the beginning, but standing there now in city clothes basically screamed his presence as an outsider.

  He took a moment to scan the faces of everyone around him. He was looking for one man in particular — his other reason for coming here — but everybody in the yard was a stranger to him.

  “Welcome to the Farm,” said Scarface. “It’s where we keep all the delicate little flowers that are too precious to be handled by the big rough Sparks.” The man gestured to the space in front of them. “This, specifically, is the yard. Like most of the prison, your tether ensures System techniques don’t work here, but your physical capabilities, pathetic though they might be, remain intact.”

  The man nodded toward one of the nearby doorways. “You’re in cell 6C. You’ll find your uniform in there. Starting tomorrow, it will be all you wear.”

  “What happens if it gets damaged?” asked Rix. “You know, with all the diving I’m going to be doing.”

  Scarface smiled with what almost looked like genuine amusement. “If only the fades gave a shit about confidence, you might actually survive the week, dreg. The robes are memoryweave. As long as you bring all the pieces back, they’ll restore themselves overnight. Or don’t, and we’ll recoup the cost from your dantian directly. Now go and play with the other children.”

  With that, the man leapt up onto the parapet with a single powerful movement. Rix gawped as he felt the rush of wind from his departure. He’d cleared thirty vertical feet like it was nothing.

  Rix looked around, lost for what to do next. Several prisoners were already eyeing him, some with curiosity, some with something more predatory. Rix ignored them. He had enough enemies, and he wasn’t here to make friends. He just wanted to keep to himself as much as possible.

  He made his way over to the stone steps and sat down. There was a lot to take in. His body felt new in a variety of ways that he didn’t have the vocabulary to describe. He called System display up once more for closer study.

  [Path]

  Tier - Whisper (Low)

  Class: Unfused

  Weapon bond: None

  Style: None

  Embodiments: None

  Aspects: None

  Mana: 200/200

  Essence: 0%

  Techniques: None

  Body

  Agility - 13

  Strength - 7

  Vitality - 7

  Mind

  Acuity - 10

  Mana Control - 10

  Mana Capacity - 10

  Soul

  Authority - 0

  Sovereignty - 0

  Rix was a Martial Soul now. That fact took his breath away all over again. Sure, he was merely a Whisper, the lowest of the low, but every Martial Soul started at this humble spot. He was going to have to grow unimaginably strong to do what needed to be done.

  He’d known he’d be able to specialise his Path, but seeing the level of granularity the System gave was fascinating. Some of the attributes innately made sense. Strength, agility, vitality, they correlated to different types of physical capability. When he thought of Martial Souls shattering boulders and moving like the wind, they had likely assigned points there. Interestingly, it seemed like the initial values factored in his pre-existing capabilities. Rix had always been fast, but his size worked against him when it came to strength and durability. He found it better to not get hit at all and overwhelm his opponents with small, measured blows, rather than rely on raw power or toughness. He’d intended to continue this trajectory when he became a Martial Soul, which would mean investing in agility. He’d had many dreams about himself as a lightning-fast warrior, an unseen terror beating his opponents bloody from all angles, their weapons constantly finding only empty air.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  Everything else on his System display was less clear. Authority and sovereignty were both currently at zero, implying perhaps that they were reserved for a higher level of the Martial Path, but the three under the pillar of his ‘mind’ caught his eye. Mana capacity seemed self-explanatory, though perhaps it had more implications than he realised. Similarly, mana control sounded like it could be useful, but in truth, Rix barely knew the applications of mana, let alone where stronger control might be required. He was immediately drawn to the concept of acuity, though. That was something he hadn’t even known he could augment. The term was somewhat vague. Was it just basic sense enhancement? Or did it have more application? On the surface, it seemed relatively narrow, but Rix had always found that in a fight, his natural speed was almost always enough as long as he could see what was coming. Improving his perception was an attractive option that might synergise with his natural gifts.

  He was starting to ponder how to actually make those numbers go up, when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to discover two men looming over him. They were lean and lightly muscled — some of the healthier looking prisoners he could see — and though they held no weapons, the twist to their smiles and the way they crowded him in said everything Rix needed to know about their intentions.

  “Look what we have here,” said the man in the front. “A proper day-old lamb, I reckon.”

  He had long hair that fell in an unkempt fringe across his face, and a vicious glint in his eyes that spoke of a lifetime of violence. His sleeveless prison robe was ornamented with a thick, intricately knotted sash, a style often favoured by Tatsuyan gang members in the Lantern District. Rix had known many of his type back home, bullies for whom picking on the weak was their only source of joy.

  “Fresh as they come,” remarked the other from over his shoulder. It was clear to Rix that the man in front was the ringleader. There was always a certain deference to the way that lackeys stood in a situation like this.

  “Seeing as you’re new, lamb,” said the leader addressing Rix, “let me be the first to welcome you to our little corner of Spiritlock. I’m Yutaro, and I like to try and help guide new prisoners through their first day.”

  “That’s very generous of you,” said Rix, trying to keep his voice neutral. His heart was hammering in his chest. Despite the kind words, he was under no illusions about these men’s intentions. The problem was what to do about it. Getting into a fight with Martial Souls an indeterminate number of ranks or tiers above you was a good way to end up dead. Fortunately, he could puzzle a few things out.

  From what he’d learned on the outside, Spiritlock was divided in half, with the Whispers and Sparks housed in separate compounds. Apparently, they didn’t even try to house anyone higher. Once you got that powerful, the law struggled to keep a grip on you.

  Given these men were in with him, that made them both Whispers as well. But all Whispers were not made equal. There was a significant difference between a Low Whisper, like him, and someone at High or Peak Rank.

  They were close enough that he could cast his spirit eye over them. Unlike Scarface, these two gave off a noticeable mana signature. They burned bright and clear, Yutaro a little more so than his companion. Rix didn’t know entirely how to interpret that. His spiritual senses were still new and raw. It felt like they were stronger than him, but whether that meant by a single rank or multiple, he didn’t know.

  All of that added up to a simple fact: talking his way out of the situation would be smart.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” said Yutaro, waving in mock modesty. “Now, I don’t know if you’ve been told about how things are here, but we take it upon ourselves to make sure our cosy little Farm here stays safe. It’s like, community service, yeah? And all we ask in return is a little cut of your heartstones.”

  Rix didn’t even know how he was to begin making heartstones yet, but he should have realised they would make for something of a black market in the prison.

  “Apologies, but as you guessed, I arrived this morning,” said Rix, trying to defuse the situation. “If you give me a week to get settled, we could try and work something out.” Despite his words, he had no intention of giving in to extortion in any capacity. What he really needed was time to get a handle on his capabilities and think of a way to make himself less of a target.

  Yutaro’s smile widened. “Oh, we’ll talk again. I promise. But for now, we do need something. A sign of good faith. We take all sorts of things besides stones: jarrowstar root, lotus blossom.”

  “Coffee,” suggested his lackey.

  “Oh, coffee definitely,” said Yutaro. “Love me a little coffee in the morning.”

  The easy smiles, the rhythm of their taunting, they had definitely done this before. And Rix’s gambit had failed. He glanced around the yard, but the stairs around him had magically emptied. He wasn’t even upset. It made sense. Why borrow someone else’s trouble? Especially a fresh prisoner with no ties or value. But it left him with only one option.

  Rix met Yutaro’s eyes. “You know perfectly well I don’t have anything.”

  “Now, now, don’t talk yourself down like that. Everybody has something.”

  His friend nodded, taking a step closer. “It just might not be something you want to part with.”

  “But if it’s all the same to you,” continued Yutaro, “we’ll just have to check to be sure. If we let you get off without paying anything, well, that’s a slippery slope, isn’t it? Soon, chaos reigns.”

  “Can’t have that,” said number two. “No good for anyone.”

  Though he had barely moved, Rix’s muscles were spring-loaded. These men were more powerful than him, and probably more experienced. They expected him to be overawed, confused, afraid, and to take whatever he was given. But Rix knew how that would end. It was a cliché, but he’d seen it play out time and time again in the streets; allow yourself to be a victim and you were a victim for life.

  Rix was done being a victim.

  Even with the ace up his sleeve, he’d likely end up hurt, perhaps badly, but he’d also establish himself as someone who wouldn’t just roll over. It might make enemies out of the men in front of him, but it would give pause to everyone else. To do otherwise would leave him constantly looking over his shoulder. He just hoped he hadn’t misjudged their strength.

  When the first blow came, Rix was ready for it. Or, he thought he was. One minute Yutaro was several feet away, the next his fist was planted in Rix’s stomach. At the moment of impact, something crackled briefly around Rix, a kind of ice blue glow. For a split second he thought it was part of the attack, some kind of technique, but as his mind caught up, he realised what it must have been. His mantle. One of the legendary benefits of being a Martial Soul. A mantle was a kind of shield derived from pure mana that encased your body like skin-tight armour. In the Chronicles, mantles were able to absorb hideous amounts of damage.

  In Rix’s case, the effects were significantly less impressive. While perhaps the effect absorbed some of the punch, Rix still rocked backwards and doubled over, the air violently shooting from his nose and mouth. Heaven’s blood, the other man was fast. Rix sucked in a shallow breath, causing a sharp pain to lance through his stomach. He couldn’t take another blow like that.

  “Hmm, I didn’t find anything that time,” said Yutaro. “You want to have a look, Kenzo? See if I missed anything?”

  The second man grinned and took a leisurely step forward. Rix was only going to get one shot at this. He watched the man like a hawk.

  Perhaps this Kenzo was slightly less powerful. Perhaps he’d assigned a bare minimum of points to agility. Perhaps the adrenaline gave Rix’s perception the tiny edge it needed. Whatever the case, he spotted the moment the man began to accelerate, throwing his body into a blow aimed straight for Rix’s chest…

  …and Rix shoved his qi into that specific place in his meridians, activating what he’d taken to calling Energy Surge. His secret technique.

  Blessedly, whatever restrictions the tether placed on System techniques did not seem to apply to his use of qi. For a moment, he became impossibly quick. He uncoiled like a lightning bolt, ducking the blow and driving his entire body up and to the right, slamming his head into Yutaro’s face. A headbutt wasn’t an elegant manoeuvre. It wouldn’t be in any martial styles or Chronicle battles. But its crudeness made it unpredictable. Nobody expected their opponent to stoop that low. And in an unarmed brawl, it was something that allowed the weak to compete with the strong. A blow with the mass of an entire person behind it. When cornered on the street, it was one of Rix’s go-to moves.

  The man’s mantle burst to life and Rix felt a moment of resistance, but such was his momentum that he pushed through it. The blue glow around the man seemed to shatter. Cartilage crunched and Rix felt the warm spatter of blood across his skull. Somehow, he’d punched through.

  Yutaro let out a hiss and his hands flew to his face, but Rix wasn’t done. He had but a precious few seconds of this strange power, and he had to take advantage. He had to be definitive.

  He let his momentum carry him past the injured man, then he spun, planting his weight and throwing out a driving kick to Yutaro’s centre mass while he was still reeling. Rix had no idea how durable his opponent was, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He kicked with all his might, slamming Yutaro forwards. This time, no mantle flared. Rix must have broken it with the headbutt. Yutaro tumbled forward, his legs, then chest, then head hitting the stone stairs with a crack.

  Rix felt a shot of adrenaline. It had actually worked! But he didn’t have time to assess the damage, as the lackey spun to face him. Rix threw out another kick, but the second man was ready for it, and though it probably looked like a blur to him, his superior physique and preparation were enough to absorb the blow.

  Shit.

  Then Rix’s Energy Surge winked out. His qi was exhausted.

  Its sudden absence was like a light going out inside him. For a moment, the two men stared at one another. The lackey glanced down at Yutaro, his eyes widening before turning dark.

  “You are going to—” he started, and then the world turned white as Rix was brought to his knees by a searing agony that shot through his head like a knife blade. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t think. That sensation was his whole world.

  follow, , or . I know it gets asked all the time, but it does help so much, particularly in these early days.