Darkness (Buryoku Book 7) Read online

  Darkness

  Buryoku

  Book Seven

  Aaron Oster

  For my wife. I can’t believe we’re finally married!

  Author’s Note

  What’s up, Super-People?! I have to say that after seeing all of the support and awesome reviews for book six, I was completely blown away! Never did I imagine I would see so many people leave such positive and amazing reviews. As of right now, Earth is my second-most reviewed book ever, and that number was reached just a few short weeks after the book’s release!

  Firstly, I’d like to thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart.

  Secondly, having not expected this number of reviews, I was unprepared to write such a massive book. However, I think I can make it up to you with a few promises. Firstly, this and all future Buryoku books will be at least 160,000 words long. This is up from the average 110,000 on previous books. Additionally, book eight will be released just six weeks after this book, so you won’t have to wait too long to read it.

  Now, for the third part of the deal, and this will affect all future books. If I see over 750 reviews on this book, I’ll boost the word count on all future Buryoku books to 200,000 each. I’m confident that we can make it happen with all of your support!

  So, without further ado, I hope you enjoy, and we’ll be seeing you back for Weakness: Buryoku Book 8, on January 13th!

  Prologue

  Darkness surrounded him, shielding him like a cloak as he ran. His breaths came in ragged gasps, matching the pounding of his heart in his ears. He could hear them giving chase, growing ever closer, despite his best efforts. He stumbled as his foot caught a protruding root and only managed to prevent a fall by slamming his shoulder into a tree trunk.

  His mouth hung open as he pulled in a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the burning in his chest and shoulder. The cries were growing louder still, and he knew that if he didn’t keep moving, they’d be on him within minutes. Despite wanting to give up, to simply slump to the ground and allow them to catch him, he could not bring himself to give up – not after everything he’d endured and all the suffering he’d gone through. There had to be a light at the end of this dark tunnel.

  He pushed himself forward, leaving a bloody smear on the trunk of the tree as he went. The man likely didn’t notice, due to the multitude of injuries riddling his body, but he was leaving a very obvious trail in his wake. Had he been more familiar with woodcraft, he might have realized this and done something to throw off his pursuit.

  Of course, even had he been skilled in that, he was absolutely terrible at suppressing his Core, the light shining brightly enough to attract Martial Artists from miles around.

  The man ducked beneath an overhanging branch, throwing a look back over his shoulder as the sounds of pursuit grew louder. That single glance cost him, and he ran headlong into another tree in his path. The impact sent pain flaring all over his body as he was tossed clear off his feet. He landed hard on his back, the little remaining air knocked from his lungs.

  He lay there for several moments, eyes wide and mouth agape as he tried to pull air into his seizing lungs. Blackness crept around the edges of his vision, threatening to extinguish even the pinpricks of light emitted by the moon above that were allowed to filter down through the heavy cover of the trees.

  He didn’t know if it was possible to die from running as hard as he had, but from the way he was feeling now, the man thought himself to be very near death. Then, mercifully, his lungs unclenched, allowing a shuddering breath. Sweet air flooded into his lungs, pushing away at the encroaching blackness and the unconscious world. A moment later, he almost wished he had blacked out as familiar shapes appeared overhead.

  In this part of the world, his night vision wasn’t nearly good enough to make out any great detail, even despite the fact that he was a Martial Artist. All he was really able to see were the colors of their Belts. There were three of them. Two were Blue, containing a stripe of Purple each, and one Blue, with five of the stripes.

  It meant that the leader of this little group was just a single test away from his Purple-Belt. In other words, he was a cut above the other two. Not that the man would have stood a chance against even one of these Martial Artists.

  “Well, it looks like the little freak has finally given up,” one of the lesser Blue-Belts – the female of the group – said.

  “We thought we’d have to chase you all night, freak,” the other lesser Blue-Belt added in a deep voice.

  “Did you really think you could escape or was this pathetic attempt the last bit of defiance uttered by a dying fool?” asked the leader, crouching low.

  From this close, the man could make out some basic distinguishing features. A hard jawline, sharp nose, and a pair of gleaming eyes greeted him from this leader. These Martial Artists could all clearly see where he could not, putting them at an even greater advantage. Worse, he could tell – despite his inferior advancement – that they hadn’t even been trying.

  Had they been using Movement techniques or been even slightly winded, he might have felt vindicated in his attempted escape. The fact that he was lying on the ground, bloodied and heaving for air, while they looked as though they were out for a pleasant nighttime stroll, told him just how futile his escape attempt had been.

  Still, for some reason, he refused to give them the satisfaction of just going quietly, not after all they’d done to him.

  “Screw you!” he slurred, throwing his arm up, a bright glow suffusing his limb.

  It wouldn’t be much, as he hardly had any Essence left – this area was hardly suited to his Path – but if he could even scratch his tormentor’s face, the scar left in its wake would be a constant reminder of the one who had caused it.

  His brilliant plan, more stupid than brave, was foiled quite easily, as his wrist was caught and wrenched to the side. There was a searing pain in his wrist, followed by a crackling sound like that of a snapping branch. Then his arm was bent the wrong way.

  “Shouldn’t have tried that,” the woman said, letting out a light laugh that he somehow heard through his own howls of pain.

  “You shouldn’t have upset my friends,” the leader said, still remaining in his crouched position. “You know how protective they are.”

  Tears welled at the corners of his eyes as his screams faded to a low whimper. He was no stranger to pain. He tried to be strong and told himself he wouldn’t cry out. He couldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they’d hurt him. But with each new agonizing injury, his resolve was shattered, and he gave in.

  “Drag him back to camp by that arm,” the leader said. “Maybe that’ll teach him about trying to run away again.”

  “Why don’t you just kill me?” the man rasped out, trying to fight down the fresh waves of agony as his broken limb was jerked tight.

  The leader half-turned back to him, the side of his face illuminated by a small pinprick of moonlight filtering in through the trees. It didn’t show much, only the lower portion of his face. The man’s lips twisted into an insane smile that showed far too many teeth.

  “Because you have to pay for what your clan did,” he all but snarled. “We need to extract the toll of every death before we can finish you off. So, until you’ve repaid the debt owed, you’re going to remain with us.”

  He turned away then, motioning for his underlings to follow. The man screamed again as his broken limb was wrenched back, his body dragging along the ground as he was pulled along. His back slammed into tree roots, scraped over protruding stones. No matter how his legs kicked and scrabbled, he couldn’t free himself of the woman’s steel grip.

  Even reinforcing his body with Essence did nothing at all, so he
didn’t bother wasting it, hopeful that he might have another chance at escape – not that it was likely after tonight. They would be watching him like hawks once he was back in camp, and even if they didn’t, why bother?

  Despite himself, the man began to sob quietly. His body was wracked by pain and misery, and the world around him seemed bleaker than ever.

  “Would you look at that?” the woman asked with delight. “The little freak is crying.”

  This set off a new round of laughter, the cruel sounds of those who had absolute power over another ringing out in the forest of darkness. The man tried to ignore those sounds, the tears streaming from his eyes and blurring his vision. Even the pain from his injuries seemed a distant thing.

  Possibly the worst part of this all was that those who’d wronged the leader hadn’t even been his clan. They’d just been one in the numerous clans who’d passed him around, treating him like the garbage they claimed he was. Yet, despite the hatred and resentment he held for the last clan that had done this to him, he was the one paying for their crimes.

  The pain on his arm lessened as the group came back into their camp. Or presumably so, as he couldn’t see very well, and this group wasn’t going to do him the courtesy of starting a fire for his convenience.

  “Tie him up,” the leader commanded. “And since she dragged him back, you’re on first watch.”

  “Aww, why do I have to freak-sit?” the single-striped man complained.

  “Because,” the woman replied, releasing his arm and causing it to smack painfully to the ground, “I didn’t let him escape last time.”

  There was a general grumbling from the male Blue-Belt, but he did as ordered.

  The pain redoubled as his broken arm was wrenched behind his back, the Blue-Belt muttering under his breath about all how he’d make him miserable for ruining a good night’s sleep.

  He wished he could ignore the agony, but his body and mind were both weak, forcing him to endure every second of it. The ropes were pulled painfully tight, so much so that he knew the circulation would be cut off. Then, the Blue-Belt’s promised payment came in the form of a blow to the side of his head.

  The man fell to the ground, stars dancing in his vision, but of course, that wasn’t the end of it. Several kicks slammed into his newly healed ribs, cracking several of them and sending even more pain shooting through his body. His cries of pain mingled with the man’s laughter, up until the leader shouted at him to stop. Not out of any sense of mercy, of course. No, the leader wanted to go to sleep, and the screams of pain were disturbing him.

  Still, regardless of the reason, the beating stopped after that, leaving the man to lay in a curled-up ball of blood and agony.

  It was in this state that the man’s mind, delirious with pain, drifted back to the home of his youth. He hadn’t exactly been a kind man himself, but he had been well-liked by his friends – or at least, that was the impression he’d had back then. Perhaps this was retribution for the ways in which he’d acted in his earlier years. Then again, if it was, it seemed that his punishment far outstripped any misery he could have caused.

  Six clans.

  That was how many had passed him off. Each promised salvation in the beginning, only to turn their wrath on him in the end. He’d tried multiple escapes, had gotten pretty good at them too. Even now, he was working on severing the ropes binding him. It never did him any good, so why did he even try?

  The man had no idea. Still, he kept working, slowly scraping the ropes against the sharpened stone he’d snagged as they’d dragged him back here. Pain was his only constant companion. It stuck with him no matter which clan he was in. The man hated pain. Who wouldn’t, when they’d been put through what he had?

  The ropes around his wrists parted then, freeing his hands of the searing pain of their tightness, as well as the ache of his broken arm being pulled into an uncomfortable position. He could hear the distinct breathing of all three of his captors.

  The rhythms were all the same, meaning they were sleeping, despite one of them having been assigned to guard duty. Likely, they believed he wouldn’t try running again tonight, not after they’d so easily caught him and made him pay for his mistake.

  He wondered if he was completely insane for trying to run once more. Then again, after all he’d been through, maybe he was insane. He did his best to sneak out, trying not to make any noise, despite not being able to see much. Somehow, he managed to succeed, successfully making it out of the camp without being caught.

  Once he believed himself to be out of earshot, he began running again, taking a different path this time. It was much harder to run with a broken arm and ribs, and he was forced to keep a much slower pace. Now, it wasn’t just the pain from lack of oxygen, but also, the pain of broken bones and bruises that had bruises.

  In spite of it all, he ran on, hoping against hope that this might finally be the time where he made it. They weren’t expecting him to run again, so it would be morning before they finally gave chase. Or so he thought.

  “Is that really as far as you’ve managed to get, little freak?”

  The voice of the woman echoed through the forest, followed by a round of raucous laughter.

  “I thought he’d have made it farther by now, what with the head start we gave him,” the male Blue-Belt replied.

  It was only once he heard that that the man truly understood what had happened. They had let him run, and all with the express purpose of chasing him down once again. Of all the people who had tortured and abused him, these had to be the worst.

  Despite knowing they would likely catch him within a couple of minutes, he continued running, shambling forward as best he could and silently cursing the bastards for what they’d done.

  “Come on, freak, you can run faster than that,” the woman’s voice called from off to his right.

  He whirled, throwing an attack into the forest, hoping against hope that it would do something. It slammed into a tree, biting deep into the trunk, but was not enough to actually topple it. Out here, it seemed that even the trees were tougher than him.

  He continued hobbling, trying to move faster as they encircled him, calling to him the entire time and laughing at his poor attempts to do them harm. By the time he reached the clearing, bursting free from the trees and finding himself bathed in silvery moonlight, the man was about ready to collapse.

  He doubled over, wheezing for air. Blood coated his throat, and each time he inhaled, he could feel his lungs taking in a bit less air. It felt like there was fluid in them, and as he began coughing, his lungs trying to expel the foreign substance, he saw that it was red.

  One of his lungs must have been punctured. Yet another injury to add to the list. Grinding his teeth together, the man clenched his fists and forced himself to stand straight. He was too tired to keep running. Besides, here, bathed in the light of the moon and able to see for the first time all night, he didn’t much feel like delving back into the darkness.

  His three tormentors emerged from the tree line, the woman from his left, the man to his right and the leader from right ahead.

  “Decided to give up again, eh?” the leader asked, crossing his arms.

  What aggravated him most about this man was the fact that he never got his hands dirty. He always had his two lackeys administer the beatings. The man hated him more than the other two simply because of that.

  “Yes,” he rasped, raising his hands, despite the pain it caused. “I’m done running. You bastards have tormented me for long enough. If you want to take me back this time, it’ll have to be as a corpse because you’re not going to be taking me alive!”

  “Oh, we’ll take you, alright,” the leader said, motioning his henchmen forward. “We’ll just break your arms and legs this time so that you won’t be able to run anymore.”

  The man let out a scream of rage and charged the woman, hoping that she might be the easier target. He pulled his good arm back, the limb glowing with all the power he could muster, and
slugged her square across the jaw.

  He was so shocked that he’d even managed to land the blow that he didn’t follow up. However, as soon as he stepped back, preparing for a counterattack, he was able to see how he’d managed to land the attack.

  “That almost tickled,” the woman replied, giving him a wide grin.

  There wasn’t so much as a scratch on her, meaning that the only reason he’d managed to hit her was because she’d let him.

  “Now that you see how truly pointless your efforts are, will you come quietly?” asked the leader.

  “Screw you!” the tormented man shouted, whirling to attack the woman once more.

  She caught his fist this time, then punched him in the shoulder. The muscle and bone there were crushed under the force of that attack, and the fact that she was holding the arm stopped him from hitting the ground. She wasn’t holding onto him to be nice, though, as the force of the attack, in addition to causing a great deal of damage, also tore the shredded shoulder from its socket.

  He screamed as the limb was dislocated but tried to hit back regardless. He was done taking their abuse. He would either kill them or make sure that he didn’t stay alive long enough for them to continue.

  The woman only grinned, pulling her arm back to slug him again, only to have her wrist seized by a black-furred hand tipped with shining silver claws.

  A massive shadow loomed over the woman, making everyone freeze in place.

  “Three Blue-Belts attacking an injured Orange-Belt. I knew humans were dishonorable, but I never imagined your kind could be this deplorable.”

  The voice was deep, rumbling out a good deal above all their heads.

  “Who the hell do you think you are, mixing into our business?” the woman yelled, whirling in place, releasing her poor victim and trying to strike at the shadowy figure.

  The punch was as ineffective against it as the poor man’s attacks had been against her. The woman glared, then screamed as the hand still clamped over her wrist tightened. There was a horrible crunching sound as blood sprayed from the torn skin, shattered pieces of bone shoving through and reflecting the moonlight from above.