POWER
BURYOKU
BOOK ONE
AARON OSTER
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I’d like to give a special thanks to all the wonderful people who made this book possible. Without you, this book would not be nearly as amazing.
My editor, who shall continue to remain anonymous.
My web designer, who works tirelessly to keep it all running.
The absolute king of cover art, Richard Sashigane.
My Beta readers: DJ, Cameron, Joe, Jaxon, Darren and Colton. You guys are the bomb!
Lastly, to my fans. Without you, none of this would be possible.
For my baby sister. Keep dreaming big.
1
“Out of the way, you useless piece of trash!”
Roy jumped aside as Shah Koya ran past, followed closely by a group of other Yellow-Belts. He stumbled, nearly falling to the ground as his lame leg was jostled by one of the passing group. Luckily, he’d been holding a broom and was able to brace himself against it, though he imagined the bristles would now have to be replaced.
He could hear their snickering laughter floating back on the wind as they dashed through the village gates, heading on their latest excursion into the clan’s Dungeon. Outwardly, he kept his features neutral, pushing off the broom and allowing the weight to settle back on his braced right leg. Inwardly, however, he seethed at the injustice.
Roy had only been a child when he’d been adopted into the Shah clan. He’d been too young to remember how he’d lost his parents, or where they’d even come from, but the Shah clan made sure to remind him every day of his position within their ranks. He’d been treated this way for as long as he could remember. Not for the crime of being a cripple. No, his crime was a far greater one - he had no affinity for the Martial Arts.
In a world where everyone could cultivate the Essence of their chosen Advancement Path, Roy was completely inept. Not only could he not sense the Essence of the world around him, but he didn’t even have a core in which to store it. He was a freak. Everyone developed a core by the time they were five or six. He had never had such luck.
Had he developed a core, he’d never have been crippled in the first place. And even if the horrific injury that the wild boar had inflicted would have crippled him, the clan would have used their considerable resources to heal him. They would not waste their precious time and money on a freak, so he’d been left to recover on his own.
The sound of laughter reached his ears, breaking him from his thoughts, and he turned his head to see a group of children splashing in a nearby pond. Instead of cheering him up, his mood only darkened when his eyes landed on the pristine White-Belts tied around the children’s waists.
The Belts were a sign that they’d developed a core and had enough control to form them, forging them from the Essence within. The Belt was a sign of a true Martial Artist and showed to all the Level of advancement in one’s core. Looking down to his waist where a piece of knotted rope held his robe in place, Roy felt his mood sour even further.
He was now twenty years old. At his age, he should already have long since reached Yellow. If he was particularly talented, he might even have reached his 2nd or 3rd Dan within the Yellow stage. However, the world had seen fit to curse him. Though he tried desperately to feel the Essence of the world every day without a core, he was only making weird faces at the walls of his small house.
Aside from the obvious increase in strength, speed, and power, advancing also had more far-reaching advantages, such as an increased lifespan, and better health and complexion. Simply by advancing from White to Yellow, a Martial Artist could expect their lifespan to increase by ten years. From Yellow to Orange another twenty, and at Green, one could expect to live to well over two hundred, given the right circumstances.
He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and saw Shah Lynn approaching. The bright Orange-Belt, featuring two slashes of green at the end, was tied tightly around her waist. This meant that she was a 2nd Dan Orange and one of the most powerful Martial Artists in the clan. It also meant that she had the power to bully anyone she wanted, and there was no better punching bag than the village cripple.
“I’ve noticed you shirking your duty, Herald Leroy.”
Roy winced at the use of his full name. It marked him as even more of an outsider than he already was. The name sounded foreign and strange. He looked enough like an outsider as it was. With his light brown hair and green eyes, he stood out like a spot of white in a sea of black. He also had fairer skin, pale in comparison to the darker tan of the Shah. The most notable difference was in his build.
He was bulky and wide, as opposed to the more slim and refined build of the Shah. They could have made him feel welcome by at least allowing him to carry their name, but they didn’t want the other clans to associate him with them. He would make them look weak, and in Buryoku, weakness was punishable by death.
Aside from those differences, he was average height, a couple of inches short of six feet. His face was broad with a strong jaw and slightly crooked nose. He owed that particular feature to Shah Koya. His posture was always bad though, as his deformity forced him to lean heavily on his left leg, giving him a crooked appearance and always making him seem shorter than he actually was.
“Forgive me for my failure, Shah Lynn,” Roy said, bowing at the waist as best he could.
It rankled him to have to bow and scrape to these people, but if he didn’t, the consequences could be severe. She could kill him right here and now, and no one would say a thing. She might even be secretly rewarded for ridding the clan of such a disgrace. The only thing keeping a clan member from doing so thus far was their image. It would be dishonorable to kill someone like him, so they kept him around. For now, at least.
The woman tossed her long mane of black hair, placing her hands on her hips to emphasize her advancement rank- not that she needed to do so. The color was bright enough that everyone could clearly see it, and in a clan of Water cultivators who wore primarily blue, it stood out even more.
“I cannot forgive this affront. We took you in when no one else would, Herald Leroy. We even allowed you to stay when your deformity was discovered. You should be on your knees, thanking us for our generosity. Instead, you shirk your duty and dishonor our clan.”
Roy knew what was coming next, but he kept his head bowed and didn’t allow the rage he felt boiling inside to bubble to the surface.
“Three extra hours work in the kitchens for shirking your duty!” the woman snapped, “and we will be docking your pay for ruining that broom.”
Roy’s head snapped up at that proclamation. They’d always seen fit to saddle him with more menial labor at every opportunity, but docking his meager pay was going too far.
“You can’t do that!” he exclaimed before he could catch himself.
A ringing slap caught him across the face, sending him sprawling. His vision fuzzed from the force of the blow, and he could taste blood. He clutched at his cheek, staring up at the woman who still had an impassive expression on her face. Despite the pain he felt, Roy knew that she’d held back. Had she wanted to, she could have knocked his head clean off his shoulders with that blow.
“Disrespecting someone of my station will not be tolerated from a cripple and a freak. Two week’s pay will be docked from your salary, Herald Leroy. Now get back to work before I make it three.”
With that, she turned her back to him, sauntering away. Gritting his teeth in anger, Roy slowly got back to his feet. It wasn’t an easy task, seeing as his right leg was in a stiff brace and he was once again forced to use the broom to help him. This time he made sure to turn the broom upside down, using the handle to prop himself up, instead of the delicate bristles.