Death Cultivator eden Hudson (english love story books TXT) 📖

Unlike the jade books, the second I absorbed the technique, the crystal slip dissolved into thin air.

I looked at Kest, Warcry, and Rali. “The angel of death wants me dead, not you guys. Next time she shows up, back off, and I’ll use this to stop her.”

“Next step,” Warcry said. “How do we get to Jade City in three days?”

My jaw dropped. “Three? I thought we had four days left.”

“We were breaking rock for most of two,” Kest said absently as she tapped on her HUD. “Jade City’s way over on the west side of the Territories.” Kest turned her wrist around to show me the dot on a map. “Nine hundred miles from here.”

I looked from her to Rali. “Is there any way to make that?”

“Bullet train,” Rali said. “But the closest station is in Dust Bowl. The OSS might already be there.”

“One of us could wear the hairpin array, but the rest of us will be visible,” Kest said.

“What about New Iron Hills?” Warcry suggested. “It’s supposed to have all sorts of modern amenities, isn’t it?”

Kest shook her head. “We’d have to cross back through the Shut-Ins. It’ll take three days minimum to get there.”

I took a deep breath and blew it back out. The tournament was our only chance at getting clear of the Bailiff. If we missed that, we were screwed. Everything lately seemed like more of the same probably die/definitely die choices.

“Okay, Dust Bowl then.” I stood up and dusted off my jeans. I looked at Rali and Kest. “But if we run into the OSS, you two run for it. Maybe they’ll forget about you if they get us.”

Fight at the Train Station

I SNAPPED A KICK INTO the gut of a shark feral missing its bottom jaw. As it doubled over, I smashed through the back of its skull with a reinforced elbow. Rotted brains squelched out as it dropped twitching to the dirt.

A shadow fell across my back. I spun around and backpedaled, but one of Kest’s weights punched through the feral’s face. It took a step, then fell over dead.

“Thanks,” I breathed.

“Don’t mention it,” she said, stepping on the thing’s back and jerking her weight back out of its head.

Nearby, Warcry tore the head off a scaly feral with a massive hook kick. He dropped into a ready stance and swiveled his flaming head, looking for more.

“That all of them?” he asked.

“Looks like it.” I wiped my arm on my jeans. That shark feral had been juicy.

“Yep, that’s all from that band,” Rali said, scanning the horizon in all directions. His job was keeping watch to make sure no new bands surprised us while we were fighting. He’d informed us when we ran into the first pack of ferals about four hours earlier that his nonviolence extended to ferals because they were technically still sentient.

Kest and I started looting the corpses. None of them were carrying much, but after going through half a dozen bands, the Spirit stones and coins were starting to add up.

Like Rali, Warcry wasn’t helping search the dead ferals. He was on his HUD.

“Put the speed on,” he said. “We’re only a mile from Dust Bowl.”

We finished looting, then got moving again. The white sun was trying to kill us. Kest and Rali didn’t seem to notice it, probably because they’d lived on Van Diemann their whole lives, but Warcry and I were frying. He’d taken off his shirt and tied it over his head. I had nothing—my shirt was on the table back in my servant stall—so my OSS tattoo was on constant healing duty, repairing the sun damage. Hopefully, though, that would help get rid of my Transferogate tan faster.

“How’s this going to work, fatso?” Warcry asked Rali. “The riot team and you not fighting.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, and I’ve got an idea,” Rali said. “I’ll show you when we run into the next band of ferals.”

That didn’t take long. We came over a dip in the landscape and almost ran into ten of them, the largest group we’d seen so far. They lurched up from what looked like a horse or cow skeleton and started running at us.

I sent Miasma down my arms and formed my Death Metal shields, and Warcry caught fire. Kest stepped off to the side, chain gauntlets ready to strike.

“Let’s see if this works.” Rali slapped me and Warcry on the shoulder. Warm, unfamiliar Spirit poured down my arm and up my neck into my brain.

Suddenly my sight sharpened about a hundred times, and the strength in my front arm doubled. The ferals looked like they were moving in super slow-mo.

“Holy cow, dude,” I said.

But Rali was already gone. He was over by Kest, giving her a speed boost, too.

I grinned and sprinted into the ferals.

They never had a chance. With Rali’s booster, one of us probably could’ve taken all ten of them out alone. With the three of us, we cleaned up the whole band in under a minute.

When it was over, Warcry nodded at Rali. “That was savage, big man. You lads might have a shot at this riot bracket after all.”

“More than a shot,” I said. “I’ve never moved that fast, even with Ki-speed.”

Rali shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “We’ll see if it’s enough.”

The black sun was halfway up when we finally made it to Dust Bowl. It was three or four times the size of Ghost Town, with brick buildings alongside the wood ones and even some cobblestone. If you didn’t count the HUDs on every arm, the place looked like it was right on the edge of industrial revolution. We kept our heads down and found the market to sell what we’d scavenged. The empty Spirit stones weren’t worth much, but the filled ones and random odds and ends made us enough for four tickets on the bullet train and some food from a vendor. While we were there, I invested some credits in a new shirt because I was