Pandora Unchained - a Cultivation Progression Fantasy

Gabriella still had not looked up during the exchange, but it was clear that she was seriously considering Sorin's words. "I'm confident in my ability to prevent him from dying, but I don't have the energy to save him if anything goes wrong."

"He will die if you don't remove the thorn," said Sorin. "You were always too kind for your own good, Gabriella. So kind that you're still treating patients despite the fact that your body is filled to the brim with death mana."

The fatigue on Gabriella's face was obvious to anyone looking. After a moment of hesitation, she motioned for Sorin to join her. "Help me. I can't do this alone."

"Are you really willing to trust a stranger with your patient?" Sorin asked, placing his hand on the patient's shoulder.

"You're hardly a stranger, Teacher," said Gabriella softly. "My apologies for not recognizing you earlier. You've changed, you know? In more ways than one. What's more, my memories are far more complicated than they ever were."

They spoke no more on the topic. The patient was everything. Any other matters could be delayed to a future date. Gabriella was skilled in life mana manipulation and had erected a complex yet simple life support matrix encompassing the man's organs to energize his body's natural healing capabilities.

Gabriella opened a hole for Sorin to send in his poisonous mana and perform a full body scan of the patient. "A two-star hero," Sorin noted. "His cultivation is focused on physical strength and high defenses. Judging by his lopsided physique and sharp mana, he's a swordsman?"

"His name is Jamie Star, and his clan is a vassal of the Riss Clan," explained Gabriella. "Which is why it's been so darn hard keeping him alive all this time. His mana keeps cutting into my own and even damages his own flesh."

"Typical for a sword cultivator, and I understand your frustration," said Sorin. "Sometimes, it's not just the affliction that's the problem but the patient himself." He frowned as he located the source of the issue. "Hm. It seems I was wrong. It's not just the thorn that's the problem, but the crystal inside it. That's a demonic plant."

"Are you sure?" asked Gabriella. "Those are pretty rare, aren't they?"

The term demonic plant was used to describe aggressive plants that killed demons and cultivators alike to fuel their own cultivation. These were typically mutated plants, as a plant's normal features were not suitable for aggression.

"They're rare in the outside world, but maybe not here," said Sorin. "I've only seen a dozen or so instances myself. There's so much corruption in the air here that anyone below Flesh-Sanctification would instantly mutate. It shouldn't be surprising that he encountered such a terrible thing."

A different approach was needed in the case of a demonic plant. The poisons were likely more virulent than normal, and there was even a chance that the thorn's venom contained seeds that would take root inside the man's body.

Luckily, this was not the case. "I've got a treatment method in mind," said Sorin. "Bear in mind that I've never done this before."

"I trust you," said Gabriella. "Please eliminate the thorn, and I'll do the rest."

Sorin spent a few more minutes analyzing the thorn and formulating a counterpoison. The better he knew his enemy, the easier it would be to eliminate.

Once he was confident in having formulated an antidote, he summoned Nemesis and held the needle above the site of puncture. The world turned black and white as Sorin singled out the target for elimination.

"Excise," Sorin spoke softly as he stabbed the needle into the offending item, sending a payload of tailored poison to remove the thorn, venom, and all.

A strange feeling bubbled up inside Sorin as he watched the poison work its magic. It wasn't just doing its job—It was adapting to the situation to better fight the enemy.

Is this the essence of punishment and judgment? A tailored solution for a given offense? It was like Nemesis had a better gauge on the thorn than he did and was actively manipulating the poisons for better effect.

Another wondrous part of the skill was its lack of effect on neighboring tissues. This shouldn't have been surprising to Sorin. Part of his soul-bound treasure's skill, excise, was dividing the world into black and white. The thorn had been designated as the enemy, and everything else was off-limits.

Sorin's poisons were like living executioners. They showed no mercy to guilty individuals and had enough sense not to kill innocent civilians.

Thanks to Sorin's new technique, the excision was a success, resulting in minimal damage to the cultivator's spine. A few weeks of rest and medication would heal him back to full health.

Several minutes later, Sorin found himself in Gabriella's office. The woman had practically collapsed the moment they'd entered the room, forcing Sorin to pick her up and place her on the small cot where she curled up in pain.

"You're not well," said Sorin. "Let me take a look at your condition."

"If you must," groaned Gabriella. "Just know that there's nothing you or anyone else can do."

Sorin's poisons sank into Gabriella's flesh, but thanks to her intervention, they encountered minimal resistance from her life-attuned divine mana. The same could not be said for the offending energies. Her body was filled to the brim with death mana, to the point that it was surprising that she could still stand.

"You shouldn't be alive," Sorin concluded as he pulled his hand back. "It's quite frankly a miracle that you're alive."

"I am the God Seed of Persephone, Sorin," said Gabriella with a light chuckle. "My divine abilities are centered around bringing forth life in places of death. That includes dying patients and even my own body."

"It's not a poison," said Sorin, putting a hand to his chin. "It's not a curse, either. That said, I can sense a powerful karmic link to an individual in this dungeon. Let me guess: Ratten Hyde?"

"Who else?" said Gabriella. "He's determined to have me rejoin the Mattapan Faction and is going to great lengths to convince me."

"This again," said Sorin. "I keep hearing about the Hyde Clan and why no one wants to deal with them. First it was that they were powerful and rich, and then I saw the corpse puppets and the contract enforcement clause. This level of death mana… it's a death sentence to just about any cultivator. Can he do this to anyone? Is that why everyone's so darned afraid of him?"

Gabriella shook her head as she pushed herself up on the cot. Her complexion improved as her life mana, previously drained from treating a patient, regained the upper hand in her body's life-and-death struggle. "Fortunately for the rest of the world, it's only this way for cultivators who originate from Mattapan. I count, albeit barely.

"That's one of the reasons the Hyde Clan is able to rule with an iron fist despite not cultivating a divine inheritance. It's called Death Transmission, and it pairs with an ability called Soul Relegation."

"And what exactly do these abilities do?" asked Sorin, eager to find out more about this unexpected enemy.

"The first is normally the carrot," answered Gabriella. "By using their link to their clan's core treasure, the River Styx, the Hyde Clan can infuse those with ties to Mattapan with huge amounts of death mana. A necromancer or any other cultivator that wields death mana would be greatly empowered.

"The second ability, however, is the stick. It's a very frightening guillotine held over everyone's neck. Only the inheritor of their clan, the one bearing the Bident of the Underworld, has the authority to use it. The ability basically allows Ratten Hyde to relegate death-aligned souls to the underworld, instantly killing the target, regardless of cultivation realm and distance."

Sorin blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Ratten Hyde, the current wielder of the Underworld Bident, can literally rip death-aligned souls out of their bodies, effectively killing those cultivators. He could be on the other end of the continent or in some random dungeon in space. It doesn't matter. No one can escape."

"That's insane," said Sorin.

"It's reality," said Gabriella. "In truth, I'm surprised it hasn't happened already. Perhaps it's because I haven't yet committed to sowing a karmic seed with the Kepler Clan." She sighed. "Don't worry about it, Sorin. It's my problem, I'll take care of it.

"And for what it's worth, I'm sorry, Sorin. I really don't know how to deal with you. You fought Melinoë in Delphi, did you not? Truth be told, a part of me is angry at you."

"Angry?" asked Sorin.

"I'm not just Gabriella anymore, Sorin," said Gabriella. "In essence, I am Persephone or at least her current incarnation. It's not just you that's changed a lot; it's me too."

There wasn't much else to be said. Their conversation was short but informative and confirmed all of Sorin's worries. It also gave him another reason to stick it to Ratten Hyde. No matter how Gabriella had changed, he still cared about her, and the degree of control Ratten Hyde had over her life and freedom was frustrating, to say the least.

In their short conversation, he also realized how distant they'd grown. She'd slowly shifted from addressing him as Teacher to calling him Sorin. Their three years together were but a drop in the large bucket that was her long life.

Sorin was just leaving the temporary clinic when he sensed another familiar presence and stopped. "Fineas," greeted Sorin. "I take it you're in charge of the temporary hospital?"

In contrast to the overworked Gabriella, Fineas was in perfect condition and seemed to be having a marvelous time, benefiting both from the concentrated divinity in the atmosphere and the surplus of patients.

"Who better to organize the expedition's physicians than the inheritor of the Divine Medical Codex," said Fineas. "It's a shame that you cultivate the Ten Thousand Poison Canon. I hear you were quite the physician back in the day."

Sorin raised an eyebrow. "You, of all people, should know that life mana can't solve everything. Isn't that why you're out here instead of inside the clinic? I figure it's right about now that the patient would have passed. Gabriella would have taken the fall for a hopeless case while your reputation would remain unblemished."

"That's quite the accusation," said Fineas. "If you feel strongly about it, I recommend you submit a petition for an investigation through the Pandoran Medical Association."

Sorin snorted. "I wasn't born yesterday. Just because I'm confident my answer holds true, it doesn't mean others will agree with my assessment." He nodded towards the clinic. "I take it the clan is aware of Gabriella's situation?"

"Naturally," said Fineas. "Elder Ignis even went so far as to sacrifice a portion of his life span to create a support amulet to ease her through each transition. That said, we're helpless in the face of the root cause. Her karmic connection to the Hyde Clan is too strong, while her connection to the Kepler Clan is too weak."

Sorin gave Fineas a searching look. "I believe I understand what sort of exchange is taking place. While I disagree with what's going on, I'll respect Gabriella's wishes.

"But I warn you, don't try to overstep certain boundaries. Forming a connection with the Kepler Clan is one thing. Forcing yourself upon someone who clearly isn't interested is quite another."

Fineas chuckled. "As if we'd resort to something so crude. And you presume many things in assuming Gabreilla isn't interested. I might not be a mighty God Seed, but I'm still the inheritor of the Kepler Clan."

"You've been warned," said Sorin, walking away from the clinic. He only managed to take 10 steps before Fineas called out to him.

"Good luck risking your life for paltry rewards!" shouted Fineas.

"Someone has to get their hands dirty," Sorin shouted back. "It might as well be me."

Sorin soon found his companions waiting at their predetermined rendezvous point. "What took you so long?" asked Stephan as Sorin joined his companions. "You hate being late, and here you are, half an hour behind schedule. Gareth was this close to ripping down tents to find you."

"I did not lose my cool, and I would never rip down tents," denied Gareth. He chucked an item at Sorin, who caught it. "For your rat. It's called a containment collar. It suppresses uncontrolled corruption in demons, weakening them in exchange for increased sanity." He sighed dejectedly. "If only they made the equivalent for humans. Maybe our willpower is too strong?"

"Thank you," said Sorin, accepting the collar. "This should help Lorimer get past the worst of it. I was afraid I'd need to wait until we got back to Olympia to find a solution. Have you figured out where things stand in this place?"

Gareth made a face. "It's a messy situation. Daphne, why don't you go over the situation with him?"

"Basically, we're late to the party, and our entire faction is suffering," said Daphne. "It's in part because of our relative slowness, but it's mostly because of you."

"Because?" said Sorin. "What do I have to do with anything?"

"Well, technically, it's you, Charles, and Michael," said Daphne. "The Hyde Clan is making things difficult for us, and as a result, the Ares faction has secured the most territory to explore. All we've been left with are the scraps, and that's all we'll be getting unless we help the beleaguered members of our faction."