Pandora Unchained - a Cultivation Progression Fantasy

Torchlight flickered in the dimly lit halls of the Holsted Manor. The air was chill, and the mood was dour. Rumors abounded, and all it would take was a single push to escalate the Holsted Clan's longstanding conflict with the Warnack Clan into a blood feud.

A graying man with an unhealthy hunch led Sorin through a crowd of worried clan members and through a pair of guarded double doors. Screams greeted them as soon as they entered the luxurious bedroom where a young man lay dying in bed, covered in blood and puss.

"Arthus Holsted," Sorin recited from memory as he stepped up to the afflicted man, paying no heed to any toxins or diseases that might infect him. "Fourth in line to inherit the Holsted Clan. Average cultivation talent. Notorious for his gambling sprees. I take it whatever led to this happened at an underground gambling den?"

"Indeed!" said the hunched old man. "We've warned him many times not to go to such places, but he continues to spend his meager allowance on such frivolities. Fortunately, we sent a bodyguard to covertly monitor him and brought him back before the poison could take him."

It was a cocktail of poisons, but Sorin did not correct them, man, as he touched the writhing Bone-Forging cultivator. "According to the report, you sought out three separate two-star physicians and one three-star physician before seeking me out. Is that correct, Clan Leader Avery?"

"It is," said the aging clan leader. "I normally wouldn't take up any of your precious time, Physician Kepler, especially at such a late hour, but the three-star physician I invited, Andrew Baxter, said you were likely the only one in the city who could save him."

Sorin nodded and continued his assessment. Pulse is thirty percent higher than normal and erratic. Fever is elevated beyond mortal tolerance limits. Pancreas has failed, and liver is also on the verge of failing. Heart function is strangely normal aside from the elevated pulse.

Symptoms are reminiscent of alcohol poisoning combined with an overdose of stimulating recreational drugs, except in this case, they're affecting a Bone-Forging cultivator. The blood and puss are superfluous and a meaningless side effect of his condition, given his cultivation realm.

Poison is identified as a blend of rainbow hemlock, heart murmur vine extract, and Pleated Honey-Badger venom. Extraction may prove lethal, so in-situ treatment is the preferred course of action. Patient physiology is mapped and ready for treatment simulation.

The dull, almost extinguished Ophiuchus constellation flashed as Sorin activated his crippled Divine Skill. His consciousness transferred to a barren mindscape now filled to the brim with tens of thousands of physiology models and a similar number of medicinal plant variants, all linked together by karma to create a working medical model.

A host of imaginary poisons appeared above Sorin. From them, he plucked twenty and combined them in twenty pre-recorded ways. He then copied the mapped physiology and linked it to the overall matrix before injecting it with the first test poison.

Potential Cure 1 is effective in neutralizing the poison but is causing too much collateral damage. Recommendation: Rebalance the mixture by first reducing blood-searing poison and optimizing the delivery mechanism.

Potential Cure 2…

Potential Cure 3…

It only took three minutes to perform the twenty simulations. Out of the twenty, three would be able to resolve the crisis. Of them, Sorin picked the one with medium aggressiveness and immediately began production in his bloodstream. He then sent the poison into twenty-seven golden needles—his soul-bound treasure, Nemesis—which would amplify the potency of the poison and increase his control over it.

The needles shot into Arthus Holsted and executed a surgical strike on the densest accumulations of poison. The convulsions stopped as Arthus's body seized with pain. Swords were drawn, but Clan Leader Avery waved for them to put down their weapons.

"I've discovered the root of his ailment and thought it better not to delay treatment," said Sorin to Clan Leader Avery. "My apologies for not seeking approval in advance. Seven more minutes, and he would have been dead. Even a thirty-second lapse would have reduced the chance of a successful treatment by seven percent."

In the next ten seconds, the unhealthy red flush on Arthus's skin faded. His muscles relaxed, and the convulsions receded. The redness in his eyes faded, and his pained expression was replaced with one of pure contentment—a side effect of the poisons used to treat him.

"The patient has been cured," said Sorin to Clan Leader Avery. "His physical and mental condition has returned to normal. I advise that you inform those outside of this development lest they attack the Warnack Clan in retaliation."

"Right away!" said Clan Leader Avery. He immediately sent out an aide to inform the cultivators waiting outside the room. Thanks to his extraordinary spiritual senses, Sorin was able to feel the crowd dispersing and the accumulated karma fizzle out.

The aide returned a short while later and whispered something into Clan Leader Avery's ear. The hunch-backed old man frowned as he listened. "How did you know the Warnack Clan was involved? And how did you know the people outside were on the verge of storming Warnack Manor?"

The mood in the room grew tense, and the Flesh-Sanctification bodyguard in the room drew their swords. This time, Clan Leader Avery did not instruct them to stand down.

Sorin's serpentine gaze swept through the assembled fighters. They flinched and pulled back slightly as they remembered who they were dealing with. A God seed at the Flesh-Sanctification Realm was not a mediocre opponent, much less a God Seed of Asclepius, who was said to wield over ten thousand excruciating ways to kill his opponents.

"I had my suspicions at first, but your behavior just now confirmed it," said Sorin, unfazed by their aggressive behavior. "You might not be responsible for poisoning your son, but you weren't against using this event to escalate your ongoing conflict with the Warnack Clan, your greatest competitor in the seafood distribution industry.

"The Warnack Clan is currently in a weakened state, but attacking them unprovoked would incur the wrath of Administrator Pollen. By leveraging your poisoned son, it would become possible to launch a single attack in retaliation. The attack might not destroy the Warnack Clan, but it would cripple their ability to compete with you effectively.

"How did you—"

"Unfortunately," Sorin continued, "you were played for a fool. We were all played for fools. And if it were anyone else, the true perpetrator would have gotten away with it." He appeared beside Arthus Warnack's bed and clamped down on the man's throat, provoking a strong reaction from Clan Leader Avery and the assembled guards.

"Stop what you're doing this instant!" snapped Clan Leader Avery. "You may be a God Seed, but you still can't do as you please."

"Actually, I can," clarified Sorin. "In fact, I could probably get away with destroying your entire clan using collusion with demons as justification."

Clan Leader Avery gritted his teeth. "I invited you into our home. You're a physician."

"Your men drew your blades to threaten me," Sorin pointed out. "But that's beyond the point. What your 'son' has done is a far worse transgression."

Poison poured into Arthus's body through Sorin's palm, causing his flesh to bubble and his mana to burn away. The poisons were potent and enough to kill any Bone-Forging cultivator outright, yet somehow, 'Arthus' was resisting the poison—just as he'd been resisting the poison from before.

"If you don't reveal your true strength soon, Arthus, you'll melt away under the attack of my poisons," said Sorin. "Don't think me a pushover. When I decide on something, I follow through."

Red burn lines spread out from 'Arthus's throat, covering his face and his arms as the poison rapidly infected his entire system.

"This is madness," growled Clan Leader Avery. "Once this is over, I swear to Lord Hope that I won't stop causing trouble for you."

Sorin shrugged. "You go ahead and do that. I once fought off the entire Medical Association—a tiny clan like yours doesn't amount to much. By the way, 'Arthus,' you have ten seconds to make up your mind. By then, the poison will infiltrate your bones and your core, and even I won't be able to save you." 'Arthus's' eyes widened at the mention of a core. "That's right. I can see it, just like I can see the corruption coursing through your humanoid body."

An angry expression flashed across 'Arthus's' eyes, but he didn't give in. Sorin, therefore, continued pouring poison into his body until finally, it shattered into countless mirror fragments that reformed a short distance away. The person who appeared was not Arthus but an abnormally attractive woman in revealing clothing. She exuded a dense aura of charm that caused all sorts of distracting thoughts to bubble up inside Sorin's mind.

"As an agent of Jealousy, it shouldn't be possible for an early Flesh-Sanctification cultivator to discover me," said the woman. "You wouldn't mind sharing how you discovered me, would you?"

"I'm especially sensitive to corruption," Sorin explained. "What's more, when I inspected your physiology, I noticed that—" Sorin cut off as he realized the mysterious demoness had subtly influenced him. "This isn't your true body. You left moments prior, and this is just a mirror projection."

"Clever, but too late," said the demoness as the mirror image faded from existence.

Sorin pulled out a golden communication token and spoke into it. "Sorin Kepler, God Seed Status and Two-Star Hero, requesting a seal in Quadrant C, Area 43, along with backup to subdue a self-identified Agent of Jealousy."

A reply came almost immediately, accompanied by a faint buzzing in the sky. "Request acknowledged," said a voice from the token. Status confirmed. Initiating Agent Restraint Protocol in area C43. Back up is on the way and will arrive in two minutes and thirty-seven seconds."

Sorin turned to the shocked Clan Leader Avery. "You and your men will stand down and cease all plans to attack the Warnack Clan. Doing otherwise will be considered an act of conspiring with demonic infiltrators to destabilize Delphi."

Clan Leader Avery could only accept with mixed feelings. "Do you require our assistance, Physician Kepler?"

Sorin looked from the hunch-backed elder to the guards that had barely reached the Flesh-Sanctification Realm. "You lot will be about as useful as wings on a fish. Please avoid combat and remain in this manner."

Tarnished gold light flashed on Sorin's Wraith Snake Boots—a two-star upgrade to his old Wraith Hare Boots, courtesy of Mr. Sanderson—and took him three hundred meters away. Though he saw nothing with his naked eyes, he reached out to the poisons he'd infected the demoness with and sent a spray of needles directly downwards. Most failed to make contact, but three drew blood and injected the demoness with a powerful dose of Gorgon's Mourning, which he'd long since upgraded to the hundred-poison level.

The demoness shattered once again, this time sending out a poisonous cloud filled with corruption. Sorin quickly activated Toxic Metabolism to purge his body, but in the fraction of a second required, he'd already lost track of the demoness.

"Azrakul," said Sorin. "Help me find her, or I'll forcefully take command of your abilities."

As you wish, Sorin, said Azrakul in an uncharacteristic display of obedience.

A karmic map appeared around Sorin with the aid of the sealed Herald of Strife, revealing a mortal female that was steadily making her way over to the sealing boundary. Sorin took a Wraith Snake Step as soon as the ten-second cooldown elapsed and appeared in front of the demoness. She immediately attacked him with a pair of blood-colored, footlong claws that sliced deep gouges into Sorin's arms and would have sliced clean through his hands if not for the protection provided by Nemesis.

"So, you're actually a peak three-star demonized cultivator," said Sorin, noting her energy signature. "If you were an agent of Hatred or a peak three-star demon, that attack might have caused serious damage."

He used Adder Rush to close the gap and attacked with twin daggers. A flurry of golden needles pierced from the opposite direction but shattered when they encountered powerful mirror fragments.

Having dealt with the needles, the demoness viciously attacked Sorin with her claws. Sorin spotted an opening and counter-attacked— realizing too late that by attacking the demoness, he was attacking himself, and three large holes had appeared on his abdomen.

Sorin used Eater of All to melt the flesh and staunch the bleeding, granting an opening to the demoness to flip backward towards the boundary, which was now only a hundred feet away. A golden python moved to intercept her, but the skill was corrupted before it could reach her and bit down on its own tail.

"Charm, ability redirection, damage redirection, replicas, and attacks that ignore most defenses," said Sorin. "It seems you agents of jealousy are natural assassins." He stepped out with his Wraith Snake Boots and attempted to intercept the demoness, but she rolled over his attacks and guided the flow of battle to take her closer to the boundary.

"We're also very skilled in certain departments," said the demoness with a slight smile. "Would you like to give it a try?" A wave of heat rose in Sorin's body, which he immediately suppressed. "Alas, you're too cold-blooded. It seems I'll need to resort to underhanded means."

Sorin frowned as a poisonous cloud suddenly emerged from the sewers in Area 43. It wasn't a potent poison, but it was powerful enough to kill anyone below Bone-Forging. In other words, 98% of the population in C43.

"You could probably delay me if you abandon these people," continued the demoness. "But I don't think you're the type to give up on a bunch of useless mortals."

Sorin gritted his teeth as he confirmed that the poison was taking its toll. The afflicted people had minutes at most before they succumbed to its influence—just enough time for him to perform a mass purge of the area using his aura.

"It looks like you win this one," said Sorin to the demoness. "But don't get too comfortable. I found you once, and I'll find you again." He took a Wraith Snake Step and appeared in a densely populated area to sweep all the poison away, including its source in the sewers.

"Sorin Kepler, the target has made contact with the barrier," said a voice from his communication tile. "You are to intercept the target and buy us the time we require."

"Negative," answered Sorin, rapidly moving to the next group of afflicted civilians. "Area C43 has been afflicted with a large-scale poisonous attack. Interception will result in approximately 7,800 casualties. Prioritizing poison dispersion.

Another step, another purge. No reply came for a full ten seconds. Finally, a different voice came from the communication tile. "This is Allen Marsh, Sorin," said the voice. "The cost of civilian life has been deemed acceptable. Please intercept the target."

It was an answer Sorin expected, but he ignored it in favor of treating another group. "Please confirm your orders," came Allan Marsh's voice from the communication token.

"Apologies," said Sorin through the communication token. "My communication token seems to be malfunctioning. Further analysis confirms that it was damaged during combat. Please repeat your orders." He tightened his grip around the token until it cracked, distorting Allen Marsh's voice. Garbled orders continued pouring out as Sorin spent the next minute and a half treating civilians.

Finally, a response team appeared overhead. The bulk of the response team chased after the demoness through the hole in the containment field, but a few mages stayed behind to send beams of purifying light poured over the afflicted, removing any residual poison and corruption from their bodies.

A surly commander at the peak of the Flesh-Sanctification Realm approached Sorin. "You were instructed to contain the target," he said in a gruff voice.

"Apologies, Commander Vernon, but my communication device seems to have broken," said Sorin, tossing the golden token to the man, who caught it and eyed it suspiciously.

"This isn't the first time such a thing has happened," said Commander Vernon in an accusatory tone.

"Perhaps these communication tiles aren't sturdy enough to withstand my poisonous," answered Sorin with a shrug. "Either way, I acted as I deemed fit given the lack of instructions coming my way."

Commander Vernon snorted. "Your reputation might be stellar in the eyes of civilians, but you've been marked as a troublemaker by the higher-ups. Keep this up, and you'll find your chances for advancement greatly limited."

"It's a good thing I'm not really interested in upward mobility," said Sorin cheerfully. "Since my communication token has been damaged, might I trouble you to arrange for a replacement at the earliest opportunity?"

"I'll do it when I have time," said Commander Vernon. "The fallout from letting such a high-level Agent of Jealousy slip through won't be small."

"Then don't bother," said Sorin. "I won't be in Delphi for much longer."

"Olympia?" asked Commander Vernon.

"Olympia," confirmed Sorin. "I spent five years in this city polishing up my skills, so it's time I go."

Commander Vernon sighed. "You're a pain in the butt, Sorin, but I hate to see you go. This city will be worse off without you." It was a stark contrast to the treatment he'd received when arriving in the city six years prior.

"I hate to leave," Sorin admitted. "Despite the troubles I've encountered, Delphi has grown on me. Unfortunately, there are some things I just can't do if I remain here." Advancement was but a small part. His main goal in going to Olympia was to investigate the murder of his parents.

"It's always that way with talents," said Commander Vernon. "Olympia is where Flesh-Sanctification cultivators go to grow. I also went to Olympia back in the day. Didn't care for the place. Asked to be reassigned as soon as an opening popped up. Best damn decision I ever made."

Sorin nodded toward the group that had given up on pursuing the demoness. "Need any help?"

"Naw," said Commander Vernon. "She's long gone by now. Agents of Jealousy are the slipperiest. Agents of Strife excluded, of course."

"You've got that right," said Sorin. A cursory inspection of the seal on Azrakul, Herald of Strife, revealed a faint weakening that almost eluded Sorin's perception.

"Since you've made up your mind, I can only wish you good luck," said Commander Vernon. "Olympia's waters are deep and treacherous. Many God Seeds have met their end there."

"I'll be extra careful," assured Sorin. "And besides, I have no intention of getting involved in Olympia's political scene."

Commander Vernon chuckled as he moved to rejoin the rest of his team. "It doesn't matter what you intend, Sorin. In games like these, consent is optional at best."

"Don't I know it," said Sorin, turning towards the Kepler Medical Institute. The sun would be rising soon, meaning he had less than two hours to prepare for a busy day in the classroom.