Gabrielle fell off the couch when the alarm went off. Her favorite meditation position was lying down comfortably, but it made transitioning directly to an emergency difficult. Standing, she rubbed her knee where it hit the ground and took stock. Gun was locked up but her knife, one she'd kept for herself since joining the sect, was tucked in its normal spot inside her boot. Her mana was nice and refreshed from an afternoon of meditation. A handful of initiates were in the rotunda with her, one was already crying. She tsked but didn't comment, they would get over it when they saw some real action. They were too weak to be fighting off intruders anyway.

It was her time to shine.

Sheets of mana rose from the doorways, leaving a thin film, a blue so light it was almost unnoticeable. It would be more than enough to stop anyone who made it this far, her faith in that fact was unshakeable. She could just sit around and wait for Laurel to sweep in. But caution wasn't her favorite pastime.

"Stay here, away from the doors," she told the others, before slipping silently into the hall.

According to the drill she'd been forced to memorize, intruders would be lit up like bonfires, just waiting to be taken out. She looked left, then right. No bonfires in sight. Without a plan she spread her senses out and chose at random.

Her moment of glory involved more aimless walking than she expected.

She ducked into the rooms she passed by, but they were all empty. Random wandering wasn't working, so she decided to pivot. Laurel always said the most valuable part of the sect was the archive itself. That was where the intruders would go, so that was where she needed to be.

Just another example of her razor sharp instincts. As soon as she started towards the library, she stumbled upon the first intruder.

Gabrielle turned a corner onto a landing and nearly collided with a stranger. He was about her size, but all limbs instead of muscle. Coated in a sickly crimson aura that made her want to vomit, with wide eyes and a rictus grin splashed across his face.

He had hidden himself from her scan. Almost as offensive as being here in the first place.

Shock only held her still a moment, then she struck. Hesitation was for the rich, Gabrielle knew that for a fact.

The knife scraped a line across the man's cheek, her aim thrown off when he bent away. A single drop of blood welled up, but refused to fall.

Instead of darting in, he backed up further, until his back was against the opposite wall. She should have detoured for the gun. But if the coward wanted to play defense that was fine by her.

The mana inside her had already been moving, she urged it faster. Strength filled her muscles, she would get close and then burn this fucker to ash.

She made it a single step.

Agony wracked Gabrielle's entire body as she fell to the floor. It wasn't just pain. Life was pain, she could handle that. It was the sensation of her body fighting itself. She couldn't explain it if she wanted to. With a heave, she flopped onto her side, only to retch at the continued onslaught of sensation.

"It will go easier if you don't fight it."

"Fuck. You." She forced the words out, spending way too much energy to let this guy know what she thought of him.

Cycling. Getting the mana flowing was always the answer. If she could do that, it would get rid of whatever this guy was doing.

Footsteps thudded against the stone floors, getting closer but in no hurry. Big mistake and the last one this asshole would ever make. Taking control of her mana made everything worse. It was like burning her meridians in again, but this time, something fought back.

It worked. Her fingers and toes stopped spasming, she could wiggle them on her own without an issue. And her opponent was halfway to her. Wrists unlocked, then elbows.

Gabrielle was out of time. He hovered above her, swaying slightly to put his head in her field of vision, still smiling.

"It's not personal," he said.

"This is."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Gabrielle's arm swung up, and fire struck her enemy in the face. Whatever technique he was doing dropped as he screamed and clawed at where his eyes used to be. Her own palm was scorched, she hadn't had enough control when she let loose. A price she would pay any day of the week.

Her knife was still nearby, where she'd dropped it when she collapsed. One clean cut and there was no more screaming.

Some of the others would whine and moan for days about the violence that came with life in the sect. The occasional pirate, or outlaw that thought they would be easy pickings would confront them sometimes on their missions. Sometimes they took missions to deal with those outlaws directly. Gabrielle didn't resent her friends for it, but she didn't get it either. It was the ones like Cooper, good kids that grew up soft, that had the most trouble.

The way she saw it, someone came for you and yours, you put them in the ground. Simple.

*********

The sect's defenses were working splendidly. Adam would have to let Martin know when he came back from his daytrip. It would be even better if one of their attackers hadn't been locked in the library with him.

"One old man. And they sent a whole team for this place." The scoffing was in Laskarian, which answered a solid third of Adam's questions.

Perfect, it gave him room for a few dozen more to pop up. How had they gotten in without Laurel noticing, for one. He knew for a fact she could tell when cultivators entered the city. Where, by all the stars above, was the woman? Questions, questions, and more questions.

His attacker was built like a wall, tall, wide, and gray, confusingly. The stranger's skin, eyes, and hair were all tinted a uniform slate that screamed of a cultivator backstory. Another question for the list. The same color lingered in an imposing aura, declaring him an enemy of the sect.

He switched to Meristan to start with the demands."Legacy Stone."

"What?" Stalling for time seemed like Adam's best option. Maybe if he did it long enough, someone else would come save him from his worst nightmare coming to life. Invaders in his inner sanctum, the safest place on the continent. The one he was officially tasked with defending.

"Listen you imbecile. The giant glowing gemstone. Your leaders use it to improve their magic. Give it to me."

Adam added that to what he knew about their attackers. They were ignorant. Of what the Legacy Stone did, or how it worked, and probably plenty more besides. They were just sent to retrieve it. He cycled even more mana to his brain. He'd gleaned a great deal by reading journals of an ancient Loremaster, including how to process information quickly. The sensation was like cool water poured down his back, uncomfortable but not painful. Adam wasn't sure it actually worked but he went along with it. Right now, he would grab any advantage with both hands. "This way."

Curses and footsteps trailed behind Adam as he moved deeper into the library. The attacker had switched back to Laskarian, and proceeded to insult Adam's lineage, liken the sect's sophistication to various animals, question his mother's profession, and accuse him and everyone he'd ever met of all manner of perversions. Creative. Adam did his best not to react, and keep the shred of advantage.

Deeper within the cavernous room, Adam slowed down his steps, just slightly. He needed to be closer. None of his techniques worked at any sort of distance, and most of the combat training focused on being in a hand to hand fight.

They came to the corner he was looking for. This would be delicate, if it worked at all, but it was the only plan he could cobble together in under five minutes. While being watched

In front of the pair was a locked door. Nothing interesting about it except a pair of crossed chains, anchored together by an iron version of the sect's phoenix. All blazing with mana and menace.

"It's just through here."

Something pressed into Adam's spine that screamed danger to his senses.

"Open it."

He didn't have to fake the shaking in his hands as he complied. Fingertips resting on the wrought metal clasp, he channeled his mana into the lock. Exactly three people had the permission necessary to open this door.

Recognizing his mana signature, the chains moved. With rhythmic clinks, they pulled back, link by link, into the holes in the walls made for the purpose. Then it was just a door. He opened it.

The inside of the small room looked much like the outside. Rows of shelves held books, scrolls, or mana tablets, each labeled in his own hand and displayed based on the system he'd developed for organization. Any cultivator would feel the power in the room. It was eager, excited, looking for a new host to take it out into the world.

To Adam it felt ominous and hungry. He could only hope their visitor chalked the sensation up to being a thief.

"At the back," Adam said. He was prodded forward again, the weapon digging in a bit harder this time. That would bruise.

At the back of the room was a single shelf at chest height, built into an alcove carved out of the wall. Enchantments looped around the opening, containing and restricting the contents. Instead of thin sheets of mana crystals, these gems had dimension, different facets hinting at a myriad of techniques, the depths of the glittering stones promising secrets to combine them together.

Laurel called them journey stones, Devon had used the phrase inheritances. They both looked down on any cultivator that used one instead of developing their own style.

Adam pointed to the one in the middle. This was where it could all go wrong. "You have to channel mana into it in order to take it out of the room."

This guy didn't believe him. Fuck.

Adam could see it in the way his eyes shifted and his frown deepened. He'd need to go further to sell it. Pulling all his memories of the hustlers he'd grown up with, he took the gamble.

"If you can't do it, I'll have to." He reached out his hand only to be slapped away by the intruder.

"Yeah, I let you do it and you explode the whole thing. Back off."

The idiot in question edged closer. His body twisted so he could see Adam and the stone at once. It was a trial, but Adam forced his face to remain in the expression of terror he'd worn since the man entered the library.

The cautious ones probably found a way to avoid getting sent to infiltrate a sect in a foreign country. That was the thought on Adam's mind as the arrogant man in front of him reached out, cycled mana into the gemstone. He collapsed onto the floor like a marionette with his strings cut off.

Adam released the breath he'd been holding on a long sigh. That was far too close. 'Saved by luck' was not a reliable strategy.

Loremaster as a title and role came with some perks, by which Adam knew the only other people in the library were sect members taking refuge. Which meant he should have at least half an hour to drag this one out.

The door automatically locked behind him, sealing out any students with more curiosity than common sense. Everything in that room was dangerous. It was the collection of cultivation techniques and stories considered too horrific or destructive to allow regular access. Heaving an unconscious man across the floor proved that point splendidly.

Even Laurel had worn gloves when she placed those journey stones. Each was created by a cultivator that had done so many unspeakable things it was impossible to list them all. The last legacy of a cult of ancient madmen. When they set the room up, Laurel told him in no uncertain terms that viewing the contents before he was a master was a direct path to insanity.

When the man he was dragging by the ankles woke up they would find out if that was true. Just in case, Adam paused and manipulated a bit of the ink he always kept in a flask, pouring it down the man's throat. If he couldn't be contained Adam would be able to rip it back out.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.