The Tower of Emnu

Aaron walked down the long dimly lit corridor, the light fading behind him as his steps led him deeper into darkness. But he was not afraid of the dark. He had always been the worst that could lurk in it and he knew that. He told himself that, because fear would do nobody any good. But he was shivering nonetheless, as this corridor was cold and he was naked again.

After long minutes in twilight he spotted light from up ahead. He followed it until he entered a prison.

There was no other way to call it, iron bars and what looked like barriers or shields of energy everywhere. He studied the different prison cells that were all situated in a giant hall. Most cages were empty and the iron or steel bars seemed to be locking in nothing at all. The light surrounding most cages looked like fancy sci-fi barriers or shields. Transparent, but still visible. Still, most of the light came from deeper into the prison, towards the center of the enormous hall.

The light guided him past the more mundane prisons, who soon were filled with all sorts of beings, most sitting perfectly still, their eyes closed, their breath even.

Most were humanoid or humans, but he could also see some who looked like lizard men? And one of the women behind a particularly heavy light Barrier had long pointed ears like an...elf?

Okay, he was definitively in wonderland now.

The light illuminating the entire prison originated from two giant lamps, like the ones you would rub and a Djinn would escape it, just that this pair of lamps were the size of small houses. Their blue ghostly light flowed in never ending streams around a single massive prison cell. But it also seemed to feed all of the light screen barriers that made up part of the prison. None of the barriers could hold a candle to the central Prison cell though.

Behind the massive black metallic bars that formed a complicated almost artistic cage were screens of pure blue light. The energy of it all made the air vibrate and thrum deeply.

Inside of the massive prison cell made entirely out of ethereal light floated a shadow, a ghost.

"Welcome young man." an old voice whispered in his ear and the ghost floated closer to the screens of light.

Aaron looked around and then back up at the floating wisp of mist.

"Are you...a ghost?" he asked carefully. After what he had just lived through, after seeing the strange alien prisoners, the existence of ghosts was not something inconceivable.

"No, I am a soul." the voice of the old man said and floated downward until it hovered slightly swaying up and down before Aaron.

The self proclaimed soul looked like it was made out of fog creating the outline of an old man with a chin beard, but the strange fog was in constant flux, like billowing shadows, like energy that flowed through a mans silhouette came to life. Roiling and boiling, but always keeping the same overall form.

"I...was told to come here for my...path?" Aaron asked unsure.

"Ah yes, another one talented and smart enough to see through their ruse." he could feel the old man smiling more than he saw it.

"Tell me, why did you choose Cultivation over the other easier paths, young man?"

Aaron hesitated and shrugged, deciding on the spot to tell the truth.

"I don't want to be some sort of spirit incubator, magic sounded nice enough, but Cultivation sounded better, especially because the spirit talked so hateful about it. If it is the path of Emnu's enemies, then it might give me enough strength to survive. A long life also seems nice." Aaron added.

The old man laughed a wispy ethereal laugh.

"I see, I see. Let me tell you about cultivation young man, before you decide your fate.

“You see the universe is not so simple as it looks at first glance. All things in any universe with or without Qi, the essence of the Multiverse, produce Qi. But in most dimensions this energy can't be retained, it instead floods into other dimensions, into parallel universes.

This process of assimilation across dimensional borders creates mana, a watered down Qi in direct energy form. That is the basis of magic. It is free, it is easy to use and it is powerful. Qi on the other hand is not, it is the very essence of the Multiverse itself.

To gather it, to use it, is to wrangle it from the multiverse itself. It is a path doomed to be hard and unforgiving.

But in return it gives us the power to do feats that are impossible to even the most powerful mages. We channel the very energy of the multiverse through our bodies, turning them into things of such power few beings can contest us. Eventually we are able to channel Qi even outside of our bodies, easily eclipsing the might of any mage. We can even nurture our souls until we truly become eternal and guide with our will the Multiverse itself."

The old man paused for a moment, his misty appearance blurring, but then the old man sighed.

"But alas, in our folly we have discarded all other paths as useless. And so Mages like Emnu, or Spirit Lords like Exterion were able to grasp incredible power. Cultivators have always been more interested in fighting ourselves over resources, over petty feuds than face a common enemy. You see when you live thousands of years, many things lose their meaning for you. But some petty feuds remain.

So much pride, so much folly and the war is unlikely to change things."

Aaron listened carefully and eventually asked.

"You were a cultivator?"

"Yes and much more powerful than Emnu ever was or will be." the old man said with a tired smile. His face visible as a misty imprint for a moment.

"But I was betrayed, killed by my allies and trapped by Emnu. Ingenious to trap my soul, so I would be unable to reincarnate."

Aaron raised his eyebrows.

"Oh yes, reincarnation is real. Did you think the void they pulled you from was the end, boy?" he chuckled softly.

"No, its the wellspring of souls and you merely lose your personality, your memory remains, hidden but still there in the depths of your soul. Reincarnation washes away sins and past grievances. You are a young soul, like so many. Only those who have ascended in cultivation are capable of remembering their past lives. But my current form gives me the power to see through you easily enough.

You are not a good man, you kill without mercy or remorse. But it still weighs on you, your inability to help those you love."

Aaron stared at the old man, his eyes cold. How could he know? Could he actually read his soul? Or his mind?

"Your ruthlessness will serve you well, but once you step on this path it will eventually be mellowed by time." the man smiled his sad wistful smile.

"One day you will leave this tower and if you survive you will be sent to a cultivation world. Emnu will find something to chain you to his service. I will not tell you to change, not to be you, to avoid that fate. It is inevitable. But one day you will stand in the rich Qi filled woods of a true world. You will breathe in the very essence of existence, you will feel it in the soil under your feet, in the plants, the animals. Everything alive and dead will be filled with it. You will savor it and you will learn tranquility. It will be an epiphany so beautiful you will weep. Then you will have to decide what sort of world you want to live in. A world filled with magic and slavery? With nothing good but what you make of your own hand? Or the tranquil serenity of a true world?

Don't misunderstand me boy, cultivation worlds are wicked and ruled by the strong, but there is so much beauty, so many easy lives for souls to learn, to live, to love, to die. No soul is truly alive without experiencing it at least once.

Decide then if such a world is worthy to be saved or destroyed." The old man fell silent and Aaron could not help but be moved by the man's words. He did not believe them, he was not sure of anything, not if he would survive this day or even this moment. But that was nothing new. Survival was never guaranteed and if what the old man said was true, he wanted to see it for himself.

The other prisoners had woken up while the old man talked, some with tears streaming down their faces. Their eyes glassy in remembrance.

"But those words will only hold meaning to you, should you decide to embark on the path of cultivation. It will be 10 times worse than anything you can imagine. You can leave the way you came and pick another path young one. Still, should you prevail, should you thrive in this hell for any cultivator." The old man grinned, looking fierce and powerful for a fleeting moment.

"Then you will gain the power to contest even Emnu himself."

Aaron hesitated only for a moment, thinking his choice through and then nodded.

"I'll become a cultivator. I don't fear a harder path."

The old man laughed his ethereal ghastly laugh.

"Good, good. Courage is a talent often overlooked. But you should know that there will be many, many challenges ahead. There is no Qi in this tower, so you will have to create it to absorb it. It is incredibly inefficient because of the Sorcerers Domain that this tower is build in. Also us prisoners here are the only Cultivators in the tower. Without our guidance you will never survive so you will need to feed us."

"Feed you?" Aaron asked suspiciously.

"Every cultivator who is still alive in this prison can live on Qi alone, but we still need Qi. This tower is a barren wasteland. While we can absorb and turn some of the Mana into Qi through our sheer will, it is simply not enough to live. We can survive, but it is not truly life. That means you will have to find enough resources to raise your cultivation and make sure we are fed and paid."

"Paid?!" Aaron asked incredulously. What the hell was wrong with this old ghost?

"For Cultivation Techniques, for guidance, for training. Nobody else in the Tower can give you that. Well, there were others before you, but they are undoubtedly dead already. Being a cultivator is a hard path, especially here."

Aaron scoffed.

"Why tell me all of this before I decide? Are you not afraid I would leave you to rot?"

"He has a point there old man." a thin man with thick eyebrows and fierce eyes, said from Aaron’s right. He had a smirk on his face and was leaning against his prison bars like one would lean on a bar table.

The old ghost laughed.

"No, I am not afraid, you are not the kind of man who would fail to grasp the chance to become more powerful than anyone else in the multiverse, am I right?"

Aaron scowled and shrugged. "Maybe, I am sick and tired of being powerless. Of being unable to save those I hold dear. If I can grasp a power like that, I will do anything to get it."

"Excellent. Now lets set the terms of our agreement."

"What terms?"

"You will return to this prison once a month with 13 mana stones. One for each of us. They are commonly used in the Tower as currency. Every technique and skill and for every hour of personal training we will require a beast-core.

You can get those from most monsters on Level 5 or higher in the tower. They are the best nourishment for us, as it is most efficient to turn beast cores into Qi."

Aaron did not really know if that was much, or if this was hard to get. But it did not sound like that much.

"Okay...I don't see how I have any choice here."

"You don't if you want to become a cultivator." the old man said with a smile in his voice.

"In return we will get you started with knowledge and techniques that will ensure your survival. I will give you the knowledge how to turn Mana into Qi and how to absorb it. I will also grant you the Fiend-god Art, a cultivation technique that should last you till golden core."

"Hey, old man are you serious?" the man who had talked earlier said with a huge scowl on his face. "You are willing to waste something as good as the Fiend-god Art on him? By my ancestors, its like feeding heavenly pills to a pig."

"I would appreciate some silence Sylus. It is the best art I can give him that does not entirely rely on Qi, but also his body to function."

The ghost turned back to Aaron.

"The Fiend-god Art will determine how you channel your Qi through your body. It is a physical art, meaning it will not require much, if any Qi to work, but it will feed of your body. It is a great healing art and it will help form your body into the equivalent of a Fiend-god, a primordial beast of immense physical prowess."

Now that sounded much more interesting. "So how strong would I become exactly?"

The man the ghost called Sylus scoffed.

"You will be able to crush steel with your bare hands without even using Qi Enhancement. You will be able to regenerate any wound not fatal. It is a tragedy. Great Master give the Art to me instead! You know my path would benefit tremendously from this cultivation art."

"Sylus." the ghost sighed.

"You are in the Nascent Soul stage, what good would a technique do that falls off after reaching golden core? We talked about this."

"You are the great Master, a transcender, don't tell me you could not make the cultivation art work for me. I am no fool."

"No but you talk like a fool." a female voice interrupted furiously. "Shut up Sylus and let the master talk."

Aaron turned around to the speaker and found it came from the elf he had seen earlier. She was hot, like smoking hot, now that he gave her a closer look. Tall, curves for days, with a pretty face and currently a fierce scowl that made her only prettier.

Even with long pointy ears.

"Still the same rotten temper, you should really try to live up to the title of fairy, sister Mei." the man said with a grin.

"Who is your sister?" she snapped back.

"I would gut you for that comment if we were anywhere but here."

Sylus laughed and winked to Aaron.

"She is a fierce one, but sadly you have no chance with her, she can't get over me. But I'll tell you she can really do some amazing things with that body, boy."

"SYLUS!" Mei growled and sent them both a scathing gaze that promised a quick and painful death.

"Alright children, settle down. Where was I?" The old ghost said and both of them fell silent.

"Ah yes, besides the Fiend-god art you will also learn the 10 Heavenly Katas of the Artis Clan from Sylus, it is a combat style designed to strengthen the body and grant you some combat ability. It does indeed go very well with the Fiend-god Art, Sylus."

"Old man, you want me to grant him the biggest secret of my clan? I was just joking, have some mercy for an old prisoner."

The old ghost ignored Sylus bickering and whining and turned to look at the elf.

"You will also learn Wind steps from Mei here, it is one of the best lightness techniques that rely on physical prowess."

"Master." the elf said reverently, but with indignation.

"The technique is called 10.000 Heavenly Winds of Change."

"Wind steps suits it better in my eyes" the old man said evenly, before he continued, ignoring the outrage in the elves eyes.

"It is a movement art that will grant you the ability to escape and move with ease. I am afraid you have no choice in the skills you learn, but I assure you it is to your best interest. These three techniques, a cultivation art, a movement technique and a combat style all reinforce and amplify each other without needing much Qi to fuel them.

In the past we let Cultivators choose, but considering how few ever made it out of the tower, I believe we need to ensure your survival first."

Aaron had no idea what any of that was, lightness techniques? Combat Styles? What?

But it seemed quite beneficial nonetheless. It was clear this world was crazy and had different rules than the one he had lived in before. Locked in some sort of training hell from some crazy magician, even if these cultivators muttered nonsense he would not know.

But he had decided on his path, if this could grant him strength above anyone else, then he would not hesitate.

"Okay, how do we start?" he asked and looked at the Ghost.