Battleforged
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Chapter 580 - Kitting up for Battle
🕑 Added 2025-11-17 15:15:18 +0000 UTCA/N - Sorry for the delay, everyone! I always do my best to be on time with my posts for you all, but sometimes life throws curveballs. - The chapter below is roughly 4,800 words. - Please enjoy!
Eric’s fists clenched with helpless dismay even as he raced back the way he had come. “That portal’s just a few miles away from home, Bun. What the fuck! This isn’t Earth… this is the fucking anchor world of everything! Cultivation Isekai paradise. Shit like this is NOT supposed to happen!”
“Eric!” Bunbun’s voice was filled with strange urgency. “I just gave Xi Xiun a head’s up. He said that if we can help close the rift before it locks, he’s authorized to sell us both Pristine Lotus Blossom and Cloud Dragon’s Breath… and he’ll even do it on credit, without any markup at all! No need to sign anything. He’ll even throw in the Ocean’s Essence for free! Ooh. Elder Song’s also here, and he’s looking a bit pinch-faced, but fuck it, he’s not complaining… Eric?”
Faster than any mortal could blink, Eric had burst from the forest’s edge and darted right over the garden, ignoring the odd ring in his ears that almost sounded like an alarm, certain he had broken a formation but he just didn’t have time to worry about it. It was all he could do just to jerk open the door at a normal pace, or at least not so fast as to tear it off its hinges, even now determined to be the foster son John and Hanna needed him to be. Yet there was no mistaking the panicked look in his gaze, echoed by the surprised dismay on Hanna’s features, the fear in Louise and Maja’s eyes, and the look of hot outrage from a protective father before it could mute to fatherly concern in John’s eyes before Eric could possibly cry warning slow enough for them to all understand.
Worst of all, Eric already sensed Sophia racing for his back as fast as she could sprint, unsheathing and lashing out with her dachi, now glaring at him like a serpent finally revealed.
So Eric wasted no time, even as regret and anxiety mixed in an awful bitter brew.
Unified Perception check made! NO opposing essences or Dao concepts are in play!
3409 Quickness TRUMPS 1053!
You move and think over thrice the speed of your opponent in the crucible of battle!
Unified Perception check means that you effortlessly sense the blade <slowly> coming for your throat!
It was perhaps the hardest thing he had ever done, letting a cultivator with hostile intent draw and strike, her blade whipping up towards his neck.
Even as a jolt of adrenaline roared through him, and what a curious relief it was to see the looks of horrified dismay in both John and Hanna’s faces. Even if the tableau by the entranceway played out far too quickly for his foster sisters to register, it was still all he could do not to flinch as exotic alloys caressed his neck.
Yet his Unified Perception had told him the only thing that truly mattered.
No essences were in play.
As to whether his truly absurd Physical Resistance, so many magnitudes beyond mithril resilience that he could, quite literally blast through imperial dreadnoughts at sub light speed and they’d hurt him no more than holograms would hurt a laughing child running through them… as to whether or not that System manifestation of such an absurd resistance stat would truly hold in this reality that saw his reality as little more than netherworld ghostly echoes or living dreams…
The kiss of Sophia’s blade, of an alloy that would mark Eric’s mithril like 1075 sword steel sparring against a copper kopesh, made it clear just how much he should have respected the abilities of this world’s alloys to tear through his flesh and fill the air with the cloying coppery scent of his spraying blood.
Even if the blood was that which he himself summoned as he sensed Sophia’s surprised wince, the air filling with Hanna’s panicked scream.
Blood Mastery skill check: Critical Success! Rank 38 Mastery means it’s effortless for you to spray blood from your own pores!
Hanna’s scream mitigates this to a flesh wound!
Note! Windsteel blade (650 durability, an order of magnitude stronger than Mithril) utterly fails to penetrate 1686 Physical Resistance!
You deliberately relax your neck so as not to damage your opponent’s pristine blade!
NOTE! Qi Attack has been channeled through the blade!
Thunder Strike FAILS to penetrate 886 Qi Resistance!
You have deliberately allowed yourself to be sent cartwheeling away!
“Eric!”
He was surprised how comforting it was to hear his foster mother’s panicked cry as he cartwheeled through the air before carefully crashing into the garden, Eric making sure he landed gently enough not to harm a single corn stalk or copperthorn vine.
“What the hell did you do, Hanna! Are you insane? Are you trying to kill him? What the hell did you just do to my boy?”
Eric couldn’t deny the dark satisfaction he got, for just a second, seeing the look of horrified dismay on ever-suspicious Hanna’s features, though he was partially distracted by the scents of loamy soil, fresh mint, pear blossoms, and his own coppery blood… which he immediately reclaimed, save for the tiniest trickle, surprised by how hard it was to command his skin to part and stay parted. He left only the thinnest of paper cuts as he stumbled back to his feet, dazed expression firmly in place to see a panicked Hanna screaming and smacking her kung fu sister’s pained features before turning to Eric with a cry in her throat.
“It’s okay, mom!” Eric quickly said, not caring how ridiculous it sounded, considering that he had been hurtled halfway across the garden by sword blow and Qi strike both. Of course, like any mother seeing her child miraculously survive peril, all she felt was desperate gratitude and thanks for whatever intervention had come into play, free of any dark suspicion, feeling only gratitude. Still, Eric’s mind raced for an explanation, realizing that things were getting just a bit out of hand as Hanna cried out, wrapping her arms around him, crooning as if he were an injured infant.
“Oh my poor baby, please be still, be still! Press this against your neck. We’re calling emergency services. They’ll be over in just minutes!” Her anxious eyes looked desperately for her husband. “John, your med-kit!”
“On it!” John snapped in a no-nonsense voice, darting back inside as Maja and Ella filled the air with a forest’s worth of panicked trills and whistles.
“What’s going on? Mom? What happened to Eric?” Louise anxiously cried.
“I’m okay, really,” Eric protested at least as strongly as any teenager who had just suffered a scare would. “It’s alright! You see, my Second Chance Boon kicked in. I thought it had faded long ago, but I guess not?”
Hanna blinked in surprise.
John twisted around, his stare both puzzled and grateful.
“Eric? Eric! Your throat…”
“It’s just… I felt a sharp pain, then a tingle, and now it’s just a scratch, already healing. That’s when I knew it was the boon from the last quest kicking in. Mitigate one perilous blow, no matter the source.”
He forced a sheepish smile. “Honestly, I I thought maybe it had already expired long ago, when I survived an orc musket ball. But I guess, um… Aunty Sophia dispelled it? Accidentally?”
He felt a sharp spike of anxiety, seeing the look of horrified dismay in a woman he genuinely respected, even if her justified suspicion necessitated him working around her. Yet he knew just how much that beautiful woman who looked so very much like his mentor, former lover, and empress truly cared about this family and now he was feeling like such a cad.
“No, really, it’s alright.”
He met Sophia’s tormented gaze. And when she actually moved to lower herself before him… he revealed just a bit more quickness than he otherwise would, arresting her crashing to her knees, paying no heed to her surprised stare.
“You bow to no one, Sophia Kahn.”
She blinked in momentary confusion, clearly never having seen Lord of the Rings. “Eric, what I did was totally unforgivable. I had thought in that moment, you reminding me so much of that wild Contender that had nearly killed two of my friends that—”
Eric quickly shook his head. “No, it was my fault. I was in such a panic that I burst open that door way too fast, startling everyone, and you, an investigator protecting those she loved, had every right to come to the defense of people you consider family.”
Sophia closed regret-filled eyes. Eric gently squeezed her shoulder.
“It’s alright. Seriously. I’m fine.”
She angrily shook her head. “No, Eric. Hanna was right, what I did was unforgivable!”
Eric shrugged, as an errant gust rustled both Sophia’s silky dark hair and Eric’s own blond locks. “What you did was trigger a boon I thought long expired. But it was an accident born of protective instinct. Exactly what I would hope you’d have, for Hanna’s sake. And you’ve already offered to do me a huge huge favor. So... maybe this means we’re a bit closer to even?”
Sophia took a shuddering breath, fierce eyes now locking with his own. “I owe you a debt, Eric Carpenter, and you better believe I’ll repay it.”
Now she was the one gently squeezing his arm. “Whatever it takes, Eric. I will get you that tome that will hopefully make all the difference. If not, I will most certainly get you into an academy renowned for both its highly skilled crafters and sigil masters with a tradition of strong mentorships that never leaves its students to fend completely for themselves.”
Eric couldn’t help but chuckle with that promise. “You mean a cultivation academy free of young masters in need of a good face-slapping, tolerated by jaded mentors under the pretext that the best students are forged under pressure. But we all know that’s just making excuses because the entire academy’s beholden to a handful of crusty clans that expect their offspring to be treated like young princes and everyone else should just grovel at their feet?”
John, Hanna, and Sophia all stared at Eric for long moments, before Hanna, eyes twinkling, snorted with laughter.
“I think my Eric’s read one too many cultivation fantasies in the netherrealms.”
“To be fair, System cultivation academies do have bad reputations as often as not,” a smiling John allowed.
“Posh, husband. That’s hardly cultivation at all. It’s just your AI super-intelligence making a caricature of what cultivation should be, probably based off the thousands of novels that are so avidly read and published.”
“Or it could be that various Contenders, in their attempts to shape their worlds, forged a fantasy version of cultivation as well,” Sophia said with a pained smile. “Regardless, I overstepped terribly, and I can only pray that you will forgive me, nephew… heart-sister.”
“You did more than overstep,” A still angry Hanna snapped, before sighing as Sophia’s face crumpled with regret.
“And you’re not the only one who bitterly regrets mistakes made in the heat of anger. And my son, with a Contender’s luck and the blessings of a living story, suffers no worse than a scratch that is already healing. So get that tome for my boy and know that I forgive you.”
Sophia bowed painfully low. “I swear I will, Hanna.”
John, arms crossed, gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Now I think it’s time we found out why Eric felt the need to burst through the front door like a madman when he could have just come down the stairs if something was wrong. Unless…”
Eric grimaced. “Yes, I was out. Restless legs, taking an evening walk, like I always do. Even if it’s night, because I actually managed to sleep four hours… and none of that matters. What matters was the rift I saw floating in the air.”
John’s eyes widened with dismay. “Tell me everything, now!”
Eric quickly did just that, explaining the odd thrum in the air, the feeling of sticky pressure, and the crackling rift ringed in violet light that was somehow both blazing in colors he could almost see, and dark as the void itself.
John’s eyes widened with growing dismay with every word Eric uttered, the family man of moments before replaced by the grim face of a veteran of a hundred battles. He turned back to his wife, even now stepping back out the door. “Hanna…”
“I just called Marcie. Domini’s assembling the crew. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, love.” John gently squeezed his wife’s hand. “Eric and I will do reconnaissance in the meantime. You don’t mind showing me and Sophia exactly where you saw the rift, do you, Eric?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” said a relieved Eric.
“Excellent. Then why don’t you head down to the basement, and we’ll kit you up properly as soon as I get down there. Just give me a minute to talk to Sophia, first.”
Eric couldn’t deny the relief he felt, with John taking charge of the situation. He knew he was being handled, as if he were an overstressed teenage boy, and not the badass that of course he knew he was, which was exactly what he wanted.
His cover was now secure, and he couldn’t deny how much it had touched his heart, seeing the concern in Hanna’s face. Terrified that he might have taken serious injury. So different from his own mother, who might have loved him fiercely in her own damaged way, but, at least until she had finally ascended and healed her wounded heart and mind, Eric couldn’t help but think that all she would have felt for Eric’s injury was absolute contempt, glaring at him like he deserved what he got for being so foolish as to not see death’s blade coming for him. Even if he would have somehow found himself alive in a healer’s bed to receive his mother’s blistering lecture.
And that was fine, he decided as he darted for the basement stairs with a wink Louise’s way, whose expression went from anxious dismay to a surprised scowl.
Aurelia had loved him in her own way. He knew that. All the same, he was determined to savor this second chance with a family not afraid to open their hearts to a few more refugees from worlds torn apart by violent ascension.
Which meant he’d do whatever it took to keep them safe.
Even if it meant revealing far more of himself than he wanted to, so long as he could close that rift.
Just as soon as someone told him how, precisely, rifts worked around here.
“Mom, why does Eric get to go? Dad trained me with a blaster. I can shoot better than any of my friends!”
“You will do no such thing, dear. Eric’s the only one who knows where the rift is. You already know from your citizen’s militia classes just how hard they are to spot, and you’d better believe your father will be watching over him constantly,” Hanna hissed back, Louise wilting before her scowl.
Eric smirked as he gave her a teasing wave as he headed down the steps, relieved for the moment of normalcy, and that Louise was jealous of him… and not, thank goodness, afraid of him.
His foster father was right behind him, still dressed as casually as any professional enjoying the evening with his family, though Eric knew that was about to change rather dramatically.
“It’s been quite a night, hasn’t it, Eric?” John quipped as they descended to the basement.
Eric grinned back at the man he was already growing fond of. Which was absurd, considering the circumstances they had first met.
Once as Contender and mercenary determined to kill each other…
And just a single fateful choice or two made, somehow reversing 20 years of bad decisions with a Silver Phoenix in play, and John Carpenter was treating Eric like the son he had lost, and Eric couldn’t help but feel a totally unexpected and utterly genuine connection for the man now filling the role of the father he had never had.
How strange the world truly was, Eric mused, doing his best to push aside the odd ache in his chest that his resistances for some stupid reason, couldn’t block at all.
“Yeah, pops. It’s definitely been a night to remember.”
John chuckled softly, though his eyes were taking in Eric’s physical form with a professional eye. “I see that your blessing really did perform a miracle.”
Eric rubbed the back of his neck. “I guess that’s one of the advantages of a storybook ascension? It really is like a high fantasy, until the people you care about are riddled with musket shot and you realize that you’re dream’s become a nightmare and every night—”
Eric swallowed, surprised by the emotions welling up in him, when he had just been spouting bullshit. Bullshit far too close to the truth.
John clapped his shoulder. “I know, Eric. Believe me, I know. Now, this is very important. Do you recall the exact route you took to spot that rift?”
Eric frowned, before dipping his head. “Of course. But I’m sure we can spot it pretty easy from the rooftop…”
But John just shook his head. “The odd thing about rifts, Eric, is that they really do intersect with the lowlands at odd angles.”
Eric furrowed his brow. “I’m not sure that I understand?”
John flashed a rueful grin. “I’m not sure I do, either. But, strange as it might be to hear, this reality has something… extra, that’s compressed in our own universe.”
Eric blinked. “What, you mean like an extra layer of space?”
John solemnly nodded. “Or perhaps you could say additional layers of the 3 dimensions we understand well enough. Like a handful of plates, stacked on on top of another. Fortunately, it rarely comes into play. Most of the time there’s only one plate that we find ourselves upon. Other times…” he shrugged. “Take an odd path and you might find yourself ascending overlapping instances somehow stacked on top of our own. Fortunately, our brains seem to go with the flow of it well enough.”
Eric frowned. “But wait… you’re saying that some odd dimensional factor here that most of the time we can ignore means that unexpected rifts can’t be easily triangulated?”
“Pretty much, yeah. You got it, son.”
Eric smirked. “Okay, I won’t even bother telling you how much that just sounds like magic and overlapping levels of regio, but sure. I have a pretty good sense of the exact path I was walking before catching sight of that rift. Basically, we have to be in the northwest corner of the glade, where the cows are gathered, to catch sight of it at all.”
John smiled. “Excellent, Eric. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. But I still want you to walk the precise path you used to spot it. So yes, that does mean we’ll be getting close to it. But don’t worry. Our only job will be basic reconnaissance and making sure we know the exact path to take so that our crew can follow.”
Eric frowned thoughtfully at those words. “That makes sense, actually. When I first entered the glade, I saw nothing at all. It was only when I approached the spot from where the cattle was that I could clearly see it. Even when I approached the area from a different direction, all I felt was an awful cold, which is bizarre, since most of the time, well, I’m not too worried about any nip in the air.”
John’s eyes twinkled with bemusement. “Sounds utterly surreal, doesn’t it? A fantastical twist far more worthy of System space than the real world, no?”
Eric smirked. “Considering that cultivation worlds are supposed to be chock full of mystical realms and fortuitous encounters, it’s actually par for the course, really.”
John laughed at that. “Maybe you’re right, Eric. Now come on. I think it’s high time that we properly kitted you out, don’t you think?”
John then made his way over to an innocent looking wall before flicking a switch that not even Eric’s Perception had caught. And with the sound of an unmistakable click, the wall slid back on cantilevered hinges to revea a massive sealed door of thick tungsten alloy.
His foster father then pressed his fingers in spots that seemed to blur and shift before Eric’s eyes before the massive door also eased open and Eric feasted his eyes upon a bunker’s worth of Mark III and Mark IV Hyperion miniguns, sniper rifles, and blazers, in addition to multiple suits of truly elite looking powered armor.
Eric, nostrils tingling with the scents of high grade lubricant, ozone, and polymerized alloys, smiled with approval. All the more so when he caught sight of a rather impressive collection of steel alloy armors both enchanted and mystical, not to mention an impressive collection of exotic melee weaponry as well.
“You won’t believe how much treasures like that would sell for on Earth, both technological and mystical.”
John chuckled as he approached the armor. “Oh I’m sure they’d auction off for small fortunes, considering all the limitations placed on newly ascending worlds. Their arcane smithing would be at its absolute infancy, save whatever exotic treasures they might pull out of the rifts, and their mech-ware would be limited to whatever they were able to buy or scavenge off mercenaries who themselves would need elite privileges to bring any such treasures planetside.”
“Whereas you have the advantage of decades of mercenary work and the ability to buy all the curios, treasures, and elite toys that might help you survive any mission you like, without any restriction at all.”
John chuckled, even as he carefully selected a suit of polymerized hexagon-shaped scales with a pearlescent sheen and what looked suspiciously like a kevlar fiber aketon as well, before passing both to Eric.
“That might be true, Eric, but you’d be surprised how many mercenaries would give up all their toys for a chance to rekindle the embers of faded ascensions and grow like never before, at a rate that’s nothing short of phenomenal. Now try these on. I think you’ll find the armor to be a comfortable fit, flowing almost as well as mail. But there are no links to burst here, and you’ll be left with far less bruising from blows that get through your guard than you would with mail armor, especially with the shock-absorbant padding underneath.”
Eric happily nodded, eager to try out exotic armaments he never had the chance to enjoy back on Earth, even if his resistances made utterly redundant pretty much any gear that wasn’t resonating with higher order concepts or one with the Dao.
But that wasn’t the role he was playing. So he dutifully kitted up, happy enough to take the open face helm that was made of lightweight polymers that included a transluscent face plate he could see quite clearly out of, his hearing not hindered in the least by the helm.
He whistled, impressed despite himself. “Wow, this actually feels great! Nothing’s pinching my shoulders or wrists, and the armor’s weight is distributed perfectly.”
John gave him a clinical once-over, before nodding in satisfaction. “It looks good on you. No pinching or anything else that feels off? How about at your waist or legs? Now’s the time to tell me.”
Eric solemnly shook his head. “No, it all feels great.”
“Good. That’s what I wanted to hear.” He then solemnly handed Eric a prize that all but took his breath away, Eric now holding in excited hands a Mark III Hyperion Sniper Rifle.
“Uncle John, this is awesome!”
John grinned. “I know. It truly is.” His smile hardened. “And you do realize this isn’t a toy. Not by any means. This is a lethal weapon that is both accurate and deadly for miles. I expect trigger discipline at all times, and you angle it toward the floor with your finger well away from the trigger while you’re in the house, or at any time you’re commander, which is me, isn’t telling you to sight down the scope or open fire on a target. And save for emergencies, you’d normally never be holding this or any other military-grade hardware if you’re not at the target range. Understood, Eric?”
Eric gave an animated nod. “Absolutely.”
“Good.” HJohjn tilted his head curiously. “I know we only had a single chance to hit the range with your sister, where you showed us all just how effective a Slinger can truly be,” he said with an indulgent smile. “But, regrettably, I never had the chance to properly ascertain your small arms skills. So, I’ll ask you now, do you know how to comfortably use Hyperion rifles?”
For all that they were bonding, and gaining an understanding of one another, Eric was no fool. He understood that even this was a test.
Yet he didn’t hesitate to give his foster father a solemn nod. “I do, sir. I didn’t use them often, but I was in a position to practice with a Mark II Deathblaze a time or two.”
John nodded as he donned a suit of field plate free of any electromana enhancements at all. Instead, the treasure radiated a faint sheen of Spiritual Energy, the very same alloy as Sophia’s swords, Eric was almost positive.
“Cultivator-forged highland steel?”
“You know it,” John conceded. “We just call it highland steel, though the iron’s basically a spiritual treasure, carbonized with the blood of the smith who forged it.”
Eric whistled, duly impressed.
John spoke on as he carefully secured his straps, Eric dutifully checking the fastenngs, though his foster father’s equipment was of course well-fitted and quite secure.
“It’s harder and stronger than anything that even the best equipped Bronzer will find back home, including mithril. My Mark IV Hyperion rifle, on the other hand, is made of lightweight polymers and alloys that highland smiths would never demean themselves to work with.”
Eric nodded. “I’m guessing it’s been tweaked, though, to stand fluctuations of spiritual energy?”
John nodded, 5 o’clock shadow clearly visible with his open face helm. Though Eric did note the addition of a perfectly transparent face plate to armor that wouldn’t have looked that out of place on a European battlefield, half a millennia ago. “That it has, just as yours has. Though that has limits, of course. You sure as hell wouldn’t expect them to last topside. Not to mention even smuggling one up there is an immediate death sentence,” he informed while securing force shield wrist band, vibro blade to his hip sheath, and a short, weighty looking poleaxe to a hook and strap on the back of his armor.
He smiled at Eric’s skeptical look, before jerking his hips and twisting his back, catching the poleaxe even as he sheathed his seemingly cumbersome hyperion rifle, so blindingly fast that if Eric’s Quickness was no more than 200, he would have been caught flatfooted.
Eric whistled, as dutifully impressed as any admiring son would be. “You have a Fastdraw skill, and you specialized with those weapons!”
“You’re damn right I did,” John acknowledged with a chuckle. “And don’t think I ever stopped training, even if it’s been years since I received any sort of System message or checked my interface sheet.” He sighed. “And I can’t tell you how much I miss being able to quantify my own growth, like I used to.”
Eric gave a knowing nod. “But Hanna’s much more comfortable with the knowledge that you haven’t left your home here in NanDushi for years. So any lingering influence our System has on you is minimal. Which means that Hanna’s husband stays her husband and isn’t replaced by some AI cyborg who’s no longer entirely her husband, right? That’s clearly the stuff of her nightmares.”
John nodded. “Exactly. And I think you’ll find that to be a very common hangup shared by most highland cultivating sects and clans.” He gave Eric a pointed look. “You do understand what that means, I trust?”
Eric smirked. “If I fall in love with any Jade Beauties, I better not be planning any trips back home anytime soon.”
John laughed, eyes crinkling in amusement. “Exactly. Now come on, let’s head upstairs and do our part to protect our home.”
Comments
Trevayne
Thanks for the chapter. I wonder if Sophia will ever get a chance to see how badly he was sandbagging.
Diremccane
Before he was just going with the flow. But now he is actively leading them on. He is also setting himself up for failure, sooner or later. The longer he waits the bigger the betrayal, and the hurt reactions.
