"So...This litterally is the energy of this world." Held replied in awe, realizing just how transcendent the nature of this power was, "I was going to consider it an analogue of ki or magical energies, but it seems as far removed from that as Reptillia Scotch is from Nevadian Ale..."
It's like an endless cycle of energy....It's fascinating....
"Well...I guess that what explain what the concern is." Held replied, frowning slightly, as he worked his way through the explanations given by both man and Golem, "If this energy is the amalgamation of all that's ever lived and died on this planet, slowly compounding over time...."Ochazuke recognized this immediately.
"The Genius Loci. A good portion of Zxu'ro's legacy arts draw from this power. Beyond these techniques, I hadn't realized the extent of the connection until now."
It seems Zxu'ro was not the only one. Did you discover it as well, Arthur?
"In the course of my training with Zaofan and Master Balon, we've found many memories of the ancient past. The Ten Schools of Zxu'ro are tied intrinsically with the history of this world. The Guardians of the Five Shrines were more than words on a page or a phantom echo, their spirits lingered on in a corporeal form, desperately waiting to be heard by-" he paused with some reticence, "the worthy."
What that meant exactly seemed to become increasingly evasive. For now, they had a goal to accomplish.
He considered something, before giving up with a sigh.
"I don't even know how to measure power on that scale...Even the minuscule bit of power would be immense if you give it enough time to gather strength."
That explains Ochazuke's worry, and Kenshiko's ambition...Good Grief. He's absolutely right, there's no way this couldn't be anything but problematic.
"I see..." His brow furrowed in thought, "So we're here to steal the thumb so the punch can't get the job done.""What we're looking for is similar to what Zaofan...and Sasheem had found on the other side of the world. It may seem like something insignificant, at first. A relic, a wall, crudely engraved with Ten Animal Seals. This is to conceal a chamber door, behind which is part of the Master's living legacy. It's sensitive to a ki signature trained in the methods of the Ten."
They'd gone silent shortly after he'd opened it, which meant there was something essential there. This counterpart in Charlie Base having been indicated by a chosen Guardian of the Ten Schools, however...
"The last remnants of the Five Schools of the Hidden Hand are like the individual elements of the original art, and their strength is formidable. Imagine then, Five fingers combined to a completed Fist...even if turned against the World Government, I shudder to think what would happen to the planet."
So...The arts splintered off? Or were separated purposely? I vaguely recall Zao mentioning something about different schools, but I don't recall him putting it like that...
"I see....Hidden in plain sight, huh?" Held replied with an amused smile, "Well, I guess you really did chose the right men for the job. Legacy is another word for treasure where I come from, and if there's one thing I know, it's how to find booty."
He paused.
"Did I use that right? I understand that on this planet the context changes depending on--Nevermind. We find treasure good."
"Hm?" The Nevadian responded, almost belatedly to his companion, as he looked upon the ruins of what was no doubt beautiful and mighty, only holding the barest hints of the splendor it once held, although even that small fragment was immense in its glory to the eyes of one who knew what lay before them.BGM - Ruins Dungeon
The decision was made, and the four concealed within Damask's sealed frame, their ki signatures muted by Jack's magic, moved to infiltrate the base. Upon finding their seat inside of the Golem, the sensation within was strange. Cloistered in this inner space they shared much of the Golem's sensory intake, but it was strangely distant and ethereal; a sort of remote numbness, sensation at a remove without feeling. Though they could not physically see what Damask did, fleeting sensation did come in the darkness, the flickering images that passed his ancient eyes like heady, phantom impressions split through a lens, and with it an acute, tactile awareness of what tread upon the ground like a strange sort of radar.
"Impressive," Ochazuke noted, "Damask has some means for us to perceive the world outside as we travel within him."
Passage.
Just as they Leyline beneath the Golem's feet shifted the earth, the singular word shook through a collective reverb within his body, and fell through each of the travelers. Cold, mechanical, with a singular driven intention.
"I thought the command," Jack remarked, "and he responded."
The stony Ancient's thoughts were given over to his direct goal, and yet as they sunk beneath the Earth, the memory of the place swept through him in a similar manner. Fragmented images of a civilization long lost bled together with an ephemeral present, filled with stomping boots and war treads and engines.
Ochazuke glanced upward as they passed into that slipstream once again, looking at something overhead. "That would be the base. Some sort of makeshift airfield in the hollow of a cave system, perhaps."
With the speed at which they moved, it was difficult to ascertain just how well replenished the Raider Forces were. Whatever the case, they'd soon bypassed them entirely, and in an instant Damask arrived within the King's Grove.
Deep in the heart of the stone hill, a prominent subterranean hollow lingered. A single shaft of light fell from far above, its illumination broadening by the silent fall of stalactite droplets. Hanging there, weathered by the erosion of eons they seemed to cluster themselves in a ragged line drawn down the body of the stone.
It was as if something had split the mountain and left a jagged scar there that had festered.
Home. A curious wash emotion fell over the Golem's thoughts as he tread over the terrain. The unblemished strata from where he had emerged gave way to something unexpected in a place like this. Blue-green lichens, and a small meadow fluorished by the scant light, fed from the vapours of the collected spring-pools that spread over ancient stone-masonry where they burrowed their roots.
The remains of civilization shattered now blended into the envorons. Pillar-bases arranged in rows and semicircles slowly crumbled under the creep of some strange ivy. Nothing seemed to grow greater than a mossy furnishing or wild grasses, save for a single, withered black tree spreading its spidery limbs like a perpetual shadow.
As such, it was fascinating, his attention rapt, before plunked away by more immediate concerns.
"Right, Right." Held mumbled in agreement as the white and black of his eyes were overcome with the red of the Shingan. "Let's see what we've got..."