ã€ŠHeartã€‹


 Ch.1:Welcome

    ¡°Congratulations!¡± Says the booming voice of a broad shouldered man with long braids trailing to the ground. ¡°You have passed trials and tribulations and proven yourselves worthy to be amongst the illustrious Serpent''s Fang sect. I, Jorin Karr, am proud to induct you to join us in the pursuit of strength and immortality. Come, grab your sect token and officially become one of us.¡±

    The children rush in a frenzy before something like order takes over the crowd and they form a line. One by one they grab their token and attach it to their sect robes with infectious glee. Jorin does not say anything, acknowledging each with a smile, until it is Tantra¡¯s turn. He doesn¡¯t frown at her, but he doesn¡¯t smile, simply giving her the token and moving on to the next. Tantra scurries off from his judging gaze and finds a corner where she can be alone.

    Father, she sighs, why have you done this?

    She knows the reason of course, it¡¯s just stupid. The fanciful dreams of a dying man, if only he had passed before this decision was set in stone. Then she would be back home, managing trade and enjoying proper tea.

    Instead she is here.

    Oh well, make the best with what you have, that was the first lesson her father taught her. Can¡¯t expect a mountain of coins to solve everything, and that applies to this place to a rather extreme point.

    She waits for Master Karr to lead them to their homes as her peers chat and celebrate, avoiding her, for which she is grateful. Until one buffoon decides to interrupt her peace.

    ¡°Hi!¡± Says a boy of modest height and modest pudge, ¡°my name is Yorin, what¡¯s yours?¡±

    She looks at his outstretched hand dubiously before taking it in hers, rudeness is a merchant''s bane after all. ¡°Tantra Sol,¡± She says, ¡°a pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡± The boy stares at her then cocks his head.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know half the words you just said.¡± He states.

    Tantra sighs, ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you.¡±

    -

    The house she¡¯s assigned isn¡¯t bad per say, it¡¯s just much smaller than she¡¯s used to, and she¡¯s going to be sharing. Fantastic. She sighs for the hundredth time today as she turns the key and enters the house to be met with no one, good, better this way. She heads off to her new room for the foreseeable future and places down her bag of meager belongings. Father didn¡¯t want her to come with much, saying a proper cultivator doesn¡¯t need baubles and trinkets to reach the heavens, as though she was ever going to become a proper cultivator. She goes to the mirror to inspect herself and finds nothing particularly offensive, other than the obvious lack of cosmetics, she sighs again.

    Well, this is her life now, it wouldn¡¯t do to slack. She walks over to her bed and sits down, it isn¡¯t very comfortable, but that''s fine. She crosses her legs and closes her eyes, Qi sight is something beyond her, but everyone can feel the presence of the ethereal energy, even if only a little. Tantra does this through a process of elimination, taking in the sensations and categorising them until she can find something that doesn¡¯t fit. It takes a while, and she grabs the Qi of her core and pulls-

    Her door slams open, startling Tantra and making her jump back.

    ¡°Hello Junior!¡± says a reptilian girl with scales to replace hair, ¡°I am the amazing Karaz! Kowtow before me, that I might share my vast stores of knowledge!¡± she says with a slight lisp.

    Tantra just stares stunned, blinking at the girl in confusion, ¡°Are you¡­my housemate?¡±

    Karaz pouts, ¡°I see a distinct lack of kowtowing.¡±

    ¡°Oh lay off Karaz.¡± someone says behind her, causing Tantra to jump again. There is a girl with black hair tied up into a ponytail, sitting all comfortable on her bed. ¡°She just got here, she doesn¡¯t need to deal with your brand of nonsense, and you interrupted her meditation.¡±

    Karaz squints at the girl, ¡°who are you to tell me what to do? Stalker.¡±

    A cup of tea appears in the girl''s hands and she takes a sip, ¡°I was simply observing the attitude of our newest addition.¡± She glances over at Tantra, ¡°which has revealed something interesting indeed.¡±

    Tantra freezes as she turns to stare at the woman. Could she truly have found her out just through casual observation?

    ¡°Well c¡¯mon then¡± Karaz says as she plops herself onto her bed. ¡°Leaving a girl curious is a crime.¡±

    ¡°In what nation?¡±

    ¡°The kingdom of Karaz.¡±

    ¡°Then I give my thanks to the gods that no such place exists.¡± She clasps her hands together and bows to no one in particular.

    ¡°Bitch¡± Karaz mutters.

    The black haired girl lets loose a large smile, ¡°only the best for a fool.¡±

    ¡°I score higher than you on our exams Sola¡±

    ¡°Common sense and intelligence are two very different attributes, one of which you are greatly lacking.¡±

    Karaz scoffs, ¡°common sense is for common people.¡±

    ¡°Umm.¡± Tantra interrupts, earning the attention of both the girls. ¡°Apologies honored seniors, but this junior was hoping she could spend her evening in meditation.¡± She gives each a bow.

    Karaz hums, ¡°Well mannered for a young¡¯un,¡± then she jumps off her bed, ¡°Alright, introductions can come later. The last one isn¡¯t even here.¡± Then she walks off back to the living area. Sola stays.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    ¡°How are you here?¡± She asks, crossing her legs and laying her chin in a hand as she regards Tantra with a neutral expression, ¡°The connection to your soul is too weak, so much so I wonder how you aren¡¯t dead or crippled.¡±

    Tantra looks down shamefaced ¡°I possess a few deficiencies.¡±

    ¡°You talk like a noble, some nepo-child then?¡± Sola tilts her head and shrugs. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter in the end, coming here was a mistake, this place will kill you.¡±

    Then she disappears.

    Tantra stares at where the girl was with a bewildered expression, was that a technique?

    She shakes her head and focuses back on her meditation.

    -

    The methods of cultivation are no secret, any peasant could cultivate and advance, and indeed many do. The first and most fundamental aspect of cultivation is the soul, the second is the body, and the last is the metaphysical organs in between. Since the soul cannot grow until much later into the journey, it is the body and core that is trained first. That brings us to the present, with Tantra¡¯s hands on her knees, barely staying up and gasping for breath. The sharp crack of a beating stick fills the air as Tantra lets out a yelp of pain, ¡°you bring shame to the Serpent''s Fang! You will run until you can¡¯t, or would you prefer we train your durability?¡±

    Tantra just grunts and goes back to jogging. Well, it looks like jogging but she¡¯s pretty sure most others would consider it alternative walking, since that¡¯s about how fast she¡¯s going. She wouldn¡¯t call herself pampered, but she wouldn¡¯t call herself fit either. She went on morning jogs and circulated her Qi occasionally, so as to not fall behind her peers, but she was never meant for this life so she never really took it seriously. Which means she is falling behind. Her peers are still moving at a steady pace while she languishes like a ghoul. There are older disciples who have been at a full sprint for a full half-hour, and aren¡¯t slowing down. She keeps her walk-jog going for as long as she can, but she can¡¯t help when her legs give out from under her and she falls to the ground.

    One of the teacher''s assistants comes towards her, and she prepares for another beating. Instead he lifts her up and places her down, away from the tracks. ¡°Good job.¡± Says a chipper voice, ¡°Now circulate¡± then they turn around and observe the students.

    Tantra, out of breath and vision spotty, does as he says.

    She has yet to open her meridians, and doubts she ever will, so she has to circulate the old fashioned way. It takes all her focus for a thread of Qi to make its way through her tired body.

    It takes all the Qi she gathered yesterday and most of the meager offerings from her soul, and yet her body still could fit more if she simply had more to give. She sighs and stops herself from draining the rest of her Qi, it wouldn¡¯t make much of a difference. When she opens her eyes It is night and all the students have gone, except for one.

    ¡°You took so long!¡± Yorin says, ¡°we missed the day''s lecture because of you.¡± he points accusatively.

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°you waited for me?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± he nods to himself, ¡°What kind of friend would I be If I left?¡±

    Tantra tilts her head, ¡°we¡¯re friends?¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh¡±

    ¡°Since when?¡±

    ¡°Since yesterday.¡± He puffs out his chest proudly. ¡°I can¡¯t just leave a weakling alone, it would be wrong.¡±

    Tantra chuckles, ¡°So even you can tell?¡±

    ¡°Of course! You''re so thin, and so pale! Like the sun has never kissed your skin.¡±

    Tantra can¡¯t help it, she lets out a snort, then pales at herself.

    ¡°My apologies,¡± she bows.

    Yorin tilts his head, ¡°For what?¡±

    ¡°For presenting myself in such an undignified manner.¡± She says.

    Yorin scrunches his brow, ¡°If you''re gonna use big words at least teach me what they mean.¡±

    Tantra stares at him, then shrugs, ¡°sure.¡±

    -

    She passes by a myriad of disciples as she makes her way to her new living situation, hobbling away at the pace of a snail, with shaky legs that cause more than a few to chuckle and snicker. It¡¯s embarrassing, but she tries to ignore them, she¡¯s not very successful.

    She has a much bigger problem than being a laughingstock though, it¡¯s night, meaning she has no time to meditate. So tomorrow¡¯s going to be full of pain just for the fun of it, she glowers at the thought.

    Eventually she reaches the home she¡¯s been assigned where she finds a pale girl with dark blue hair who can¡¯t be much older than a toddler sitting there. Her eyes are an endless sea of black, sclera and all. She sits cross legged as she regards Tantra.

    The girl gets up, brushes off her robes, then extends a hand to Tantra.

    ¡°Weakling!¡± She says, smiling, ¡°Welcome to Ranya¡¯s house! Ranya will do her best to be a good housemate, so please be patient with her as she is doing her best.¡±

    Tantra blinks, didn¡¯t she already say that?

    She takes the offered hand and shakes it.

    ¡°You are Ranya I presume?¡± She says bemused.

    ¡°She is!¡± Ranya says, ¡°What is pre-zoom? Is it before the being of fast?¡±

    Tantra chuckles, ¡°I am Tantra Sol, and presume is like assuming something-¡± Ranya gives a confused look ¡°-or like guessing, well not exactly, it¡¯s like guessing when you know your guess is right?¡±

    Ranya tilts her head, ¡°wouldn¡¯t that just be knowing?¡±

    ¡°Apologies, I am explaining this poorly.¡± Tantra says while scratching her head.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay Tantan, Ranya has trouble with words too!¡±

    Tantan?

    ¡°Good to see you two getting along.¡± says a voice as Sola suddenly just appears beside Ranya, who seems unfazed as Tantra jumps with her extremely sore legs.

    Sola chuckles.

    Ranya grabs her ear and pulls.

    ¡°Ow ow ow ow, Ranya! Stop!¡± Sola begs. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, okay?¡±

    ¡°Sorry Sola, Ranya must punish bullies on sight. it is a sacred duty.¡±

    -

    Sola is rubbing at her ear and grumbling to herself as Ranya goes to grab Karaz, Tantra wonders about her methods as she hears a yelp before the two exit the hall and enter the living room.

    ¡°We are ready!¡± Ranya says proudly.

    ¡°Yeah, totally ready.¡± Karaz mumbles while taking a seat, ¡°let''s please get this over with, I had a shit day.¡±

    Ranya jumps up and smacks Karaz on the back of the head.

    ¡°No swearing!¡± Ranya scolds.

    Karaz grumbles, but to Tantra¡¯s surprise, actually acquiesces.

    ¡°Alright, who wants to go first?¡± Sola asks.

    Karaz raises her hand.

    ¡°This one is the magnanimous Karaz, but you already knew that. I¡¯m in this shi-¡± Ranya gets ready to pounce,¡±-craphole because beast bloods aren¡¯t exactly welcome in the proper sects. That and I fit the aesthetic.¡±

    Ranya gives her a little clap and goes to stare at Sola.

    Sola Sighs.

    ¡°I¡¯m Sola Razan, I¡¯m here to learn how to kill¡±

    Tantra raises a brow before Ranya continues the proceedings.

    ¡°This is Ranya! Ranya is possessed by a Daemon! She is here to learn how to eat it before it eats her.¡±

    Tantra stares, ¡°You¡¯re possessed by a Daemon?¡±

    ¡°Yes!¡±

    Tantra doesn¡¯t really know what to say to that, at least nothing polite, so she chooses to say nothing. Surely the sect masters wouldn¡¯t place an obvious danger right in the middle of their homes? Surely Ranya has it under control.

    Surely.

    Three pairs of eyes look at her inquisitively and Tantra sighs.

    ¡°I am Tantra Sol, I was brought here because of my father''s dream to raise an immortal.¡±

 Ch.2:Day To Day

    Tantra couldn¡¯t do a push-up to save her life, so instead she has to do a modified version where her knees are touching the ground to reduce the weight.

    She¡¯s still struggling, much to the instructor''s amusement.

    She¡¯s easily the weakest amongst the disciples, mostly because all the people here got in through the proper channels and proved themselves, while her father just found whichever sect valued coin over face and dumbed a practical fortune on their laps. She wouldn¡¯t be surprised if it was the most money this place has ever seen and ever will see, it¡¯s not exactly a sect beyond sects.

    Still, it is a place to train, a place to improve. That¡¯s all that mattered to her father when he shipped her here like common cargo. Yes, she is still angry with him, yes, his death makes those feelings complicated. Their last conversation was a rather explosive argument about exactly this topic, many words were thrown, a few curses were said.

    She doesn¡¯t like to think about it.

    Instead she focuses on the motions of the exercise. It¡¯s pretty easy when her muscles are screaming so loudly, like a newborn demanding attention. That reminds her of her little brother, and how she won¡¯t get to see him grow anymore. By the time she can leave this place with some measure of safety he¡¯ll already be grown.

    She focuses on the exercise.

    -

    Tantra stomps over to the library with a chastised Yorin in tow, taking glances at her before looking at the ground, ¡°are you still angry?¡± he asks.

    ¡°You punched me in the face!¡± Tantra whirls on the boy, and points at her eye, ¡°can you see my eye? No! You can¡¯t! Because it¡¯s all covered up by a bruise the size of your fist.¡± She raves.

    ¡°But we were sparring.¡± Yorin says weakly

    ¡°We were supposed to be sparring, not beating me senseless!¡±

    Yorin scratches his cheek, ¡°sorry, I¡¯m used to fighting against the other village kids, I thought you¡¯d only be a little weaker¡­but¡­you¡¯ve never been in a fight before, have you?¡± A light seems to shine through Yorins mind.

    Tantra huffs, ¡°no, violence is unbefitting a lady.¡± She grumbles.

    Yorin tilts his head.

    ¡°But I¡¯ve fought plenty of girls before.¡± He points out.

    ¡°They are not ladies.¡±

    Yorin scrunches his brow and stares at Tantra, ¡°but¡­neither are you.¡±

    Tantra ignores him as she opens the door to the library.

    -

    The library is surprisingly well maintained considering the resources of the sect, candles flicker creating a dim lighting as disciples go from shelves to desks. Tantra walks up to the librarian¡¯s counter where an older gentleman in purple robes writes on a scroll.

    She knocks on the counter.

    ¡°Yes, yes, give me a moment child.¡±

    She waits with hands behind her back as the librarian continues to write.

    ¡°Why are we here?¡± Yorin whispers.

    ¡°You¡¯ll soon find out disciple Yorin¡±

    Yorin groans, ¡°don¡¯t start being fancy Tantra. I said I was sorry.¡±

    Tantra doesn¡¯t dignify that with a response.

    Eventually the librarian finishes with his writing and looks up at the two of them.

    ¡°What do you want?¡±

    Tantra bows, ¡°greetings master, this one is in search for a primer on Torrakian letters, along with a scroll, ink, and two quills¡±

    The librarian stares at her, ¡°Is this for the boy?¡± he queries.

    Tantra nods, ¡°indeed master.¡±This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    The librarian scratches at his chin and raises a brow, ¡°you¡¯re that brat Jorin¡¯s been complaining about. I¡¯m surprised that one such as you would find the time to play the tutor, all things considered.¡±

    Tantra bows deeper, ¡°This one is simply repaying her friend for the thorough lesson of martial prowess he delivered earlier¡±

    Yorin perks up when she calls him her friend, blissfully unaware of his fate.

    The librarian chuckles, ¡°Alright, I don¡¯t have a primer for letters, but I do have a stockpile for language, I¡¯m sure you can work back from there. Aisle one section C, once you¡¯ve found them come back here for your scroll and quills.¡±

    Tantra gets up from her bow with a radiant smile, ¡°Thank you master¡±

    -

    Tantra breathes in through her nose, and the Qi of the world enters her lungs. She holds her breath as the Qi slowly travels down their respective bridges and into her core, she breathes out the dead air through her mouth and repeats the process. This method is¡­inefficient and slow. It¡¯s why despite taking a whole evening she still can¡¯t fill her core.

    But that¡¯s fine, Tantra isn¡¯t hoping to become some legend amongst legends, hells she¡¯s barely aiming to be a cultivator, if only to survive the journey home. So this¡¯ll have to do for now.

    Still, she can¡¯t say this doesn¡¯t bother her, it¡¯s frustrating to be so glaringly inept at anything.

    -

    Tantra walks into her home to find Karaz and Ranya scowling at each other. While doing handstands, and juggling small leather balls with their feet. Tantra just stares, amazed and confused. The aches and pains from the day''s training temporarily forgotten in the face of something so ridiculous.

    ¡°Yeah they do that sometimes.¡± Says a voice directly into her ear.

    Tantra squawks and jumps in fear, only to sigh in relief at the sight of Sola.

    ¡°Honoured senior, please, show mercy to this junior,¡± Tantra says.

    Sola chuckles, ¡°not when your reactions are so funny.¡±

    Tantra actually has to hold herself back from a rather unclouth retort, reminding herself of the rules of etiquette with a steadying breath.

    ¡°What are they doing?¡± She asks instead.

    Sola shrugs, ¡°competing for something I''d guess. They usually get like this after an argument, then challenge each other to some such bullshit-¡± Ranya launches a ball at Sola which she catches and throws back at the girl, ¡±-competition to determine who was right. I was out when this one started so I can¡¯t tell you what it¡¯s about, usually it''s something stupid though¡±

    Tantra just glances between Sola and Ranya. She decides it would be best to ignore that interaction. Actually, maybe it¡¯s best to ignore this whole interaction and just go to bed.

    ¡°Oookay¡± She says, ¡°tell me who wins?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    -

    Tantra is running.

    Again.

    She can confidently say that this routine is getting rather boring. Are there really cultivators who seriously do this for every hour of every day? That sounds exhausting, and not just in the physical capacity. Aren¡¯t all those cultivation stories about excitement and action? Not that she¡¯d prefer that but it''s been a week and she hasn¡¯t run afoul of a single young master. Then again there are only two and the rumors that surround them makes them sound like disgustingly decent people. Tantra¡¯s expectations have been seriously disillusioned. Not that that¡¯s a bad thing, it¡¯s a very good thing in fact! Means that her journey will be easier than expected.

    Yorin slaps her back lightly as he passes her, she huffs and increases her speed.

    Her condition hasn¡¯t even been leaked, and if Sola can tell then surely there are other disciples who can see her weakness. Yet there is nothing, not even the slightest hint of bullying. Although the only ones that talk to her are Yorin and her housemates so maybe their style is more social isolation rather than bullying.

    Yorin slaps her back as he passes her again, Tantra grits her teeth and keeps going.

    The masters haven¡¯t said anything to her either, which is strange. You¡¯d think a disciple who bought their way in would get some level of scorn from the proper masters, but no, they teach her just the same as everyone else. Not even a hint of derision when conducting their classes. It¡¯s all surprisingly professional.

    Yorin slaps her back.

    -

    Tantra creates a thread of Qi from her core and weaves it through her body.

    First is the head, the psyche, how we perceive the world. To cultivate this part is to become more of who you are, experience more of the world around you. It is the greatest among equals, and therefore always comes first.

    As the small motes of Qi absorb into her mind, Tantra moves the thread to her chest.

    This is where life is made and maintained, breath and blood in synchronicity. It takes the greatest amount of Qi from the thread, because it was the one most abused when training.

    Next is the muscles of her arms.

    Just a cursory pass to keep her in the habit, a few motes are absorbed, but nothing noteworthy.

    Then comes the abdomen, the strongest muscle of the body becomes even stronger as it absorbs the Qi, and the organs it contains become more capable of their functions.

    Lastly is the legs, and they take the rest of the waning Qi all to themselves.

    Tantra takes a breath and pulls on another thread and begins the cycle anew.

    -

    Tantra has a serene expression plastered on her face as she moves her bishop.

    ¡°Checkmate¡± She says.

    Karaz looks at the board bewildered, ¡°this¡­this cannot be! I am the greatest mind in this house, how could I be bested by a junior?!?¡±

    Tantra smirks, ¡°forgiveness honoured senior, this one has simply been trained in the ways of chess since she was but a child.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still a child.¡± Karaz grumbles

    ¡°Now now, no need for that, my victory was fair under the gaze of the gods.¡±

    Karaz sighs, ¡°fine. Lets go outside, we¡¯ll need some space¡±

    Tantra smiles.

 Ch.3:Check

    There isn¡¯t much to be said for the Darkwoods, it¡¯s big and it¡¯s dark. Few flora can survive here, with those that do being highly coveted. Which is why Tantra is on her knees, combing through the shrubbery with a straw basket on her back. Yorin sits on a root just a few feet away, scrunching his brow at the book in his lap.

    ¡°C-A-T¡± he says, ¡°cat?¡±

    ¡°Correct¡± Tantra says as she picks a flower and throws it into her basket, ¡°you¡¯ve progressed disciple Yorin, you can finally recognize some of your letters. I would be proud if it didn¡¯t take so long.¡±

    Yorin preens as he ignores the latter part of that comment, Tantra chuckles at his antics. He¡¯s¡­refreshingly innocent, compared to what she¡¯s used to at least, merchant life is filled with polite hyena¡¯s. Even at her age she¡¯s been exposed to the need to measure words and calculate benefits. If there were one good thing that came from coming to this sect, it would be the ability to speak without worry.

    A small smile plays on her face as she breathes in the surrounding Qi. The DarkWoods is a focal point, meaning that the deeper one goes the thicker the Qi they¡¯ll find. This, on its own, would be enough for Tantra to justify coming here. The real prize however, is the merits that can be earned here through the collection of vegetation.

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need any ass-as-¡± Yorin stumbles over himself and huffs, ¡°these words are dumb.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s assistance,¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t I just say help? It means the same thing¡± he protests.

    ¡°Proper cultivators interact with high society on a regular basis, Yorin. Learn how to speak like them and they¡¯ll see you as an equal rather than prey to feast upon.¡±

    Yorin raises a brow, ¡°how are they gonna do that with no foundation?¡±

    ¡°There are other ways to hunt than the physical.¡± Tantra says, being purposefully ominous.

    Yorin looks at her sceptical and shrugs, ¡°sure,¡± he says, ¡°anyway, do you need ah-sis-tense?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Tantra shakes her head, ¡°this is my task, you focus on your book.¡±

    Yorin sighs but continues reading.

    Merits are the currency of a sect, which isn¡¯t normally all that relevant so early into the journey, considering resources are only really required later down the path. That is not the case for Tantra, unfortunately. It takes too long to gather Qi, no matter how much better she gets, a whole evening still isn¡¯t enough to fill her core. The optimist in Tantra likes to think that perhaps her core¡¯s just gotten bigger, the realist grabes it by the collar and shakes some sense into it

    Long story short, she needs Qi stones. The condensed Qi stored in the precious mineral would be enough to last her months at her level, and by then she¡¯d have enough merits to buy another. Then she can tackle the issue of expediting the speed of her circulation.

    One thing at a time.

    She¡¯s never picked flowers and fruit before, so the first few deliveries weren¡¯t exactly stellar. But she¡¯s gotten the hang of it, mostly. She¡¯s still pretty slow but at least she does it properly. The alchemist still looks disappointed whenever he sees her haul, but it¡¯s enough to get her some merits, and that¡¯s all she needs.

    ¡°Why can¡¯t we just go hunt some mongrels?¡± Yorin pouts, ¡°it¡¯d be funner than this.¡±

    Tantra shakes her head, ¡°you mean it¡¯d be more dangerous. I have no intention of risking my life if I can get the same result doing simple tasks.¡±

    ¡°But we could have gotten a stone with only a few hunts!¡± Yorin protests.

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°I see you are a mathematician now, disciple Yorin.¡±

    Yorin blows a raspberry at her.

    -

    Lessons are fairly simple, they cover algebra, history, and language. All things she¡¯s already rigorously studied. The only outlier would be alchemy, but she doesn¡¯t attend those. She has no desire to dedicate what precious time she has on a frivolous pursuit. Although alchemy could be quite lucrative¡­no, don¡¯t get tempted Tantra, stay the course. The other kids seemingly haven¡¯t received a proper education beyond folk tales and how to count crops, which naturally makes her the highest achiever among her peer group, and she¡¯d likely outmatch quite a few seniors as well. Not that it matters, intelligence is secondary to strength in the world of cultivation.

    Still, it does wonders for her pride.

    ¡°How did you learn so much so young?¡± Yorin says with a mouth full of sausage. It was his reward for progressing in his studies, just because the cultivation world doesn¡¯t care for the power of the mind, doesn¡¯t mean she can¡¯t encourage intellectual pursuits.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Don¡¯t eat with your mouth full, it isn¡¯t proper¡± Tantra scolds as she balances a stack of books in her arms. Yorin grumbles but complies as he munches through the meat with renewed vigor, taking one big swallow and letting out a belch.

    ¡°Yorin!¡± Tantra exclaims.

    He smiles smugly, ¡°that was a pretty good one wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°It was disgusting!¡±

    Yorin chuckles, ¡°there has to be a word for how strict you are about manners.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called being polite,¡± Tantra grumbles.

    He ignores her and takes a swig from his wineskin.

    ¡°So,¡± he starts, ¡°how¡¯d you get so smart?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing special¡± Tantra shrugs, ¡°while I¡¯ve never toiled the fields, I spent my time with tutors or helping my father with his business. If I didn¡¯t learn I would have truly been a fool, all things considered I¡¯m quite average.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you like reading so much?¡± He points at her books.

    ¡°The pursuit of knowledge is a noble thing, disciple Yorin, a sharp mind can cut better than a blade.¡± Tantra recites.

    Yorin gives her an incredulous look, ¡°Tantra, minds don¡¯t get sharp.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an expression.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what that means.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°An expression is when-¡±

    ¡°Honourable disciple Tantra!¡± someone yells, ¡°I challenge you to a duel!¡±

    Tantra blinks and turns to her right so she can see whoever just spoke beyond her books. They¡¯re a rather young boy, even compared to her, graced with a short mop of messy brown hair and a face that hasn¡¯t lost its baby fat. He¡¯s bowing with a fist in his palm.

    Tantra blinks multiple times in bewilderment as he stays perfectly still, Yorin breaks her trance with a poke to the ribs.

    ¡°Apologies honourable disciple¡­?¡±

    ¡°Kisrin Cao, honourable Tantra¡±

    ¡°Honourable disciple Kisrin.¡± She nods, ¡°I appreciate your interest, but I am no martial master. Surely you would be better served challenging someone with more experience than one such as I?¡±

    Kisrin gets up from his bow with a twinkle in his eye, ¡°It would be my honour to teach disciple Tantra, if that would suit you better.¡±

    Yorin pokes her ribs with an elbow and gives her a thumbs up.

    Tantra is confused.

    -

    She organizes her newly acquired books on her shelf and sighs, she was hoping to start reading through them as soon as she arrived but now she has to entertain a child. No, this is part of cultivation culture, the sooner she adapts, the better. She just has to look at it from that perspective, and it becomes much less annoying. Just another lesson to learn, that¡¯s all. She sighs again, she doesn¡¯t want to participate in this lesson though, she¡¯d prefer to have been left alone.

    As she goes to exit her room she finds Karaz standing just outside her doorway with a sly little smirk playing on her face. Tantra sigh¡¯s for the third time in as many minutes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that,¡± she throws an arm over her shoulder, ¡°I¡¯m just trying to be friendly, like the fabulous housemate that I am.¡±

    Tantra suppresses another sigh, ¡°what can I do for you, honourable senior.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Karaz says, tapping her lips, ¡°you could tell me why there are two boys waiting outside our house.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow at the girl, ¡°one is a friend, the other is a nuisance. We¡¯re going to go training in the field, I just had to organize my books first.¡±

    Karaz raises a brow of her own, ¡°a nuisance? Now that¡¯s just heartless little Tantra. At least give him a chance.¡±

    ¡°A chance at what?¡±

    Karaz sighs wistfully, ¡°Oh to be young and dumb again.¡±

    ¡°Forgiveness, honourable senior,¡± Tantra starts, ¡°but you are still both those things.¡±

    Karaz stares at her for a moment before breaking into a guffaw.

    -

    Tantra is dumbfounded by the scene in front of her.

    ¡°Onwards! Noble steed,¡± Ranya proclaims from her perch on Yorins shoulders. ¡°The great Ranya of a thousand blades must reach her allies before it is too late!¡±

    Yorin neighs as he runs in a circle around a very embarrassed Kisrin, who is hiding his face with a hand in shame. They¡¯ve gathered quite the crowd. Tantra blinks, then blinks again. Nope, that¡¯s a thing that¡¯s happening now, she hasn¡¯t lost her mind or been spiked with Dream Shrooms.

    ¡°Heh,¡± Karaz says, ¡°looks like they¡¯re having fun¡±

    Ranya jumps off Yorins shoulders, doing a front flip and landing in front of Kisrin in a stance appropriate for a rapier.

    ¡°Enguard fiend!¡± Ranya yells, "Ranya will skewer you as a gift to the demons of the hells to cook and savour!¡±

    Kisrin reluctantly gets into a similar stance to the encouragement of the crowd, hand behind his back and positioning himself to reduce points of contact.

    ¡°Enguard,¡± he says devoid of joy or passion, ¡°once I am done with you, I will torture your friends one by one in the most brutal of fashions,¡± he says lamely. The crowd gasps and murmurs.

    Ranya squints, ¡°prepare to meet your end!¡± she bellows.

    -

    Tantra checks a kick.

    She¡¯s been doing this for the past half hour and her legs are starting to hurt something fierce. Kisrin twists his front foot and brings his leg up for a roundhouse that Tantra checks again. She¡¯s starting to get the hang of it, timing her checks with generally correct timing. Now she just has to ask whoever she fights to kindly only use specific kinds of kicks. Hmmm, she¡¯s being unkind to Kisrin, although he is acting strange. Offering to train her out of the blue? For free? If there¡¯s one principle to live by it¡¯s that everything has a cost. To waste his time training her must have some ulterior motive.

    Kisrin twists and brings his leg up, and she prepares to check.

    Yorin¡¯s studying, as he should be, she had to stop training a few times when she caught him slacking. The boys already got a solid foundation, now Tantra just needs to get him a brain. Damn, she is pissy right now, must be her aching legs.

    Tantra checks another kick.

 Ch.4:Duck

    There are many principles to being a cultivator.

    Honour, to their name or to their family. It isn¡¯t something so noble as the need to maintain a moral code. Perhaps for idealist¡¯s that is the case, but Tantra understands marketing, and the first rule is to maintain an image.

    Discipline, to walk the journey. To train constantly for the nebulous goal of immortality takes either a fool or a prodigy, but in either case it needs something to maintain the dedication to the pain and suffering  required to advance.

    A voracity for violence, to leave their mark on the world. This one Tantra finds¡­distasteful. To exclusively search for challenge amongst the spirit beasts is one thing, but most cultivators are simply expensive mercenaries, hoping to carve their name into the world through the wars between kingdoms and sometimes empires, and indeed many have done so.

    The one quality Tantra wasn¡¯t prepared for was their proclivity for tomfoolery.

    Tantra is chasing Ranya down the field with a furious expression while the girl skips away. ¡°Get back here!¡± Tantra yells

    ¡°No!¡± Ranya yells back, ¡°Ranya will not take responsibility for your fears!¡±

    Tantra actually growls as she pushes through the pain in her legs, slowly getting closer. She doesn¡¯t remember the last time she acted so undignified, but frankly, that¡¯s for future Tantra to be embarrassed about. Current Tantra is riding a wave of indignation that must be put to restitution. Tantra pushes Qi into her legs unconsciously and jumps for the girl.

    Ranya panics as Tantra comes flying towards her but it''s too late, she is tackled to the ground and Tantra pins her down. ¡°Vengeance!¡± she yells out, then she starts tickling the Daemon possessed cultivator in the middle of the training field.

    She doesn¡¯t stop, even when the girl is reduced to a begging mess.

    Finally, only after Tantra is satisfied, does she relent.

    ¡°Let this be a lesson to you Ranya.¡± Tantra huffs, ¡°no ducks in the house, especially not on my bed¡±

    ¡°It was a gift! How was Ranya supposed to know you are scared of birds?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not scared of birds.¡± Tantra says, crossing her arms, ¡°I simply find them unpleasant.¡±

    Ranya tilts her head, ¡°Ranya is pretty sure she heard you screaming¡±

    ¡°That was my warcry.¡± Tantra nods to herself

    ¡°Sure Tantan, Ranya totally believes you,¡± Ranya giggles, ¡°you are lucky Karaz wasn¡¯t home, if she knew the place would become a haven for ducks and chickens.¡±

    Tantra shivers, ¡°If you tell her, I won¡¯t stop with a tickling.¡± She warns.

    Ranya smiles and pantomimes shutting her mouth.

    -

    Tantra had to wait outside while Ranya got rid of the demon bird and set it free to the skies or wherever else ducks go, she doesn¡¯t know, she doesn¡¯t care to know. All she wants is for it to be gone.

    ¡°Ranya has secured the house!¡± Ranya says proudly.

    Tantra lets out a sigh of relief and goes into the living room.

    She screams and runs as she finds the duck sitting on the table.

    Ranya got a head start this time.

    -

    ¡°We are keeping the duck¡± Sola nods, and the council of devils nod along.

    ¡°We are not keeping the duck.¡± Tantra protests as she refuses to look at the thing.

    ¡°Too bad junior, law of the house, we voted, it stays.¡± Karaz smiles with a hand on her chin.

    ¡°Dok,¡± Ranya says to the confusion of everyone, ¡°he is Dok, not ¡®it¡¯¡±

    Karaz shrugs, ¡°Dok it is I guess¡±

    ¡°Dok it is,¡± Sola nods.

    Tantra groans.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    -

    Tantra is panting through another exercise, that¡¯s her life now, exercise, gather, circulate, exercise, gather, circulate. She can¡¯t say she¡¯s a fan. She misses Aunt Temi¡¯s lectures, the counting of coins, and the haggling. She excelled at those, not this. Tantra sighs as she jogs, she really needs to stop feeling sorry for herself. This is her life now, whether she likes it or not, can¡¯t do anything to fight it, can¡¯t do anything to change it. So it¡¯s better to accept it for what it is and move forward. She can still be the merchant she dreams of being, she just needs to complete her foundations and she can travel the roads of Yamor without worry. Optimistically that¡¯ll take a decade, realistically? At least two, considering her state. If she can just get the Qi stone, then she¡¯ll be able to catch up to all the others.

    Just another month of hunting flowers and fruits and she¡¯ll be set.

    She goes through the regular process of exhausting herself to collapse then circulating her Qi, opening her eyes to reveal a Yorin circulating himself at the dead of night. He¡¯s taken to exercising more to make up for the time lost waiting for her, although that does require him to actually gather Qi himself rather than relying on his soul. She¡¯d prefer he be studying, but she can respect dedication when she sees it.

    She looks up to the sky and is surprised to find the moon further along than it should be. She scrunches her brow and stares, is she taking longer? That shouldn¡¯t be happening, Cultivators only become better, not worse. No matter how much they languish, the arrow is always pointing up. So what could explain this then?

    She sighs and shakes Yorins shoulder, breaking him out of his meditation, or circulation, whichever he was doing, and prepares to head back home.

    -

    There a two ways to block a punch, first is the direct method. Tantra tucks her chin and brings her arm up, covering the left side of her face as Kisrin throws a right hook. The block doesn¡¯t deter him though and he follows up with a jab and cross combo that Tantra fails to see coming. The jab dazes her, and the cross snaps her head back.

    Kisrin gives her time to reorient herself before going for an uppercut. Tantra backs out of his range and responds with a jab. What she¡¯s learned from her spars is that the jab is the king of unarmed combat, and she suspects the same of armed combat as well. Kisrin is too far out of her range so the jab whiffs, she takes a step forward and jabs again.

    Then comes the second method as Kisrin deflects her jab and pushes the offending arm away before launching an absolute haymaker, Tantra sees stars and stumbles before falling to the ground.

    Kisrin''s smile is a wide thing, ¡°better!¡± he says excitedly ¡°slow on the defence, and you misjudged your distance, but overall it¡¯s an improvement.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tantra says blandly as she grabs her throbbing head, ¡°but I¡¯d prefer you didn¡¯t break my face in the process of our bouts.¡±

    Kisrin seems confused as he offers an arm, ¡°but then you could heal it stronger with Qi, isn¡¯t that a good thing?¡±

    Tantra grabs the proffered hand and pulls herself off the ground, ¡°I¡¯m saving my Qi for tomorrow¡¯s training.¡±

    This seems to confuse him further but Tantra doesn¡¯t elaborate, she¡¯d prefer if she didn¡¯t admit she¡¯s a spiritual cripple, and what she just said already toes the line. Damn brain damage, it¡¯s making her tongue loose.

    -

    ¡°Renewing your books again girl?¡± The librarian asks.

    Tantra nods and bows, ¡°Indeed master, your wisdom proves beyond compare.¡±

    He waves her off, ¡°none of that, I can appreciate flattery, but my taste for it only goes so far.¡±

    ¡°Apologies master¡±

    He grunts and checks his ledger, ¡°So, A Guide To Martial Forms, Basic Linguistic, Diadem Of The Soul, Erik¡¯s Journey To Foundation, Eclipse, Freeform Circulation, and Jamik¡¯s Core Theory. That about everything?¡±

    Tantra bows, ¡°Indeed master.¡±

    ¡°Another two weeks then,¡± The librarian grunts, ¡°don¡¯t know why we even have these rules, you''re practically the only one who reads.¡±

    ¡°I am not one to question the wisdom of the Elders.¡±

    ¡°You should,¡± he says ¡°It¡¯s healthy to question the actions of those above you, at least when it is safe to do so. I can assure you the Elders won¡¯t take offence if you manage an audience with one.¡±

    Tantra smiles, ¡°If only one could be so lucky¡±

    The librarian chuckles, and Tantra goes to leave.

    ¡°Another thing girl,¡± the librarian says, appearing in front of her. He shoves a book into her arms and looks away. ¡°This should help you with your control.¡± Then he disappears.

    Tantra looks confused at the book before reading the title, Kakars Guide To Advanced Qi Manipulation.

    -

    Reading through the book the Librarian gave her is¡­confusing. There¡¯s a lot of lingo and jargon that she doesn¡¯t understand, flow output she can piece together, but what is flow input? At first she had assumed it had something to do with the soul, but no, apparently it''s a process of re-integrating Qi into your core before taking it out again. She doesn¡¯t know how that would even work, and she¡¯s only looking at the second exercise. She thought to read in advance to glean any insights she can, but now she¡¯s starting to think that was a mistake. She focuses on the first exercise and worries about the rest later.

    She¡¯s not even sure if this¡¯ll work, what it¡¯s recommending is the opposite of conventional practice.

    She takes a deep breath and enters the trance.

    She grabs a thread, thin and brittle, and holds it outside her core, just next to her heart. Then she pulls out a second and she has a total of three seconds before she loses control on both and they dissipate away. She opens her eyes to find herself sweating profusely, breathing as though she just ran a marathon.

    She looks at the book in awe.

    She managed it, if only for a few seconds, she held two threads of Qi outside her core.

    If she can master this then she could cut her circulation time in half, maybe even further with more threads.

    Now she just has to weave them together.

 Ch.5:Shenanigans

    Truthfully, Tantra doesn¡¯t really care for duels.

    I know, shocking.

    But just because her personal preference is more inclined to intellectual pursuits doesn¡¯t mean she really has a choice. They¡¯re in a sect, they are cultivators, duels are practically a requirement. Her opponent has a smug look as though the outcome were already decided, and in a sense she¡¯s not even wrong. Tantra is by far the weakest and the most inept at combat, despite Karaz and Kisrins teachings, that¡¯s probably what allowed her to coast so far without being challenged. Fighting her would do no favors to the challenger''s reputation.

    ¡°Are you ready, worm?¡± The girl asks while hopping on the balls of her feet.

    Tantra sighs, ¡°I am ready, honourable Erta.¡±

    Erta smiles something wild and vicious as she explodes into motion, closing the distance between them in perhaps two seconds. Tantra barely has the time to duck under a kick to the head. She brings her fists up and sends a jab to Etra¡¯s solar plexus, which she unfortunately blocks, responding with a knee to Tantra¡¯s stomach. Tantra has to put in a not insignificant amount of effort to not double over, pulling herself back and blocking the uppercut that follows. Etra pulls her leg back and twists, and Tantra has a split second to decide where the kick will go.

    She chooses to check and is vindicated when Etra¡¯s leg hits hers. Tantra goes for another jab, which, to her surprise, actually hits. Right on Etra¡¯s nose, disorienting her for just a moment. It takes too long for Tantra to realize that she needs to follow up with a cross before Etra kicks her right in the chest, jumping to switch legs and delivering a roundhouse kick straight to her head. Tantra collapses to the floor, holding her head with both hands.

    Etra scoffs, ¡°come on, get up. I¡¯ve barely even started.¡±

    Tantra wants to stay down, she really does. But respect and honour are the currencies of a cultivator, and to give up when you can still fight is a stain to both. It¡¯s an image problem, if the masters find that she doesn¡¯t have the heart of a cultivator, they could easily throw her out. While leaving the sect is her ultimate goal, she needs to be strong enough to get home safe beforehand. She has no money to hail a carriage nor to buy food and drink, courtesy of her fathers amazing foresight, meaning she has to walk and scavenge, dramatically increasing her risk of meeting a spirit beast.

    So Tantra shakily gets back up and assumes her stance.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Etra asks.

    Tantra nods.

    Etra dashes as she did before but this time she drives a fist into Tantra¡¯s stomach before sending a hook to her head, Tantra manages to block before she steps into the girls guard and hits her with an elbow to the temple.

    This time Tantra doesn¡¯t miss her chance and sends a heavy uppercut to the chin. Etra stumbles but doesn''t fall, Tantra rushes towards her and-

    She falls to the ground as Etra sweeps her leg under hers. Then she¡¯s on top of Tantra, raining blows to her face and stomach, Tantra can only protect one, so she chooses her face. She doesn¡¯t know how to grapple, it¡¯s not really something that¡¯s taught, at least not by her current tutors. So all she can do is block and hope for the best. Etra eventually stops her flurry, once Tantra is nice and bruised.

    She smiles as she watches Tantra stagger to her feet.

    ¡°Same time next week, little worm.¡±

    -

    ¡°Rice is the king of all!¡± Yorin proclaims, ¡°Nothing in the world of foods can match it. How many curries can you make with rice? So many! All of them delicious, it is the spine of a meal, the bulwark of taste, and the sword of spice.¡±

    Kisrin nods along as though he has bestowed upon them some great knowledge.

    Tantra scoffs, ¡°No disciple Yorin, rice is simple and bland. The true ruler is noodles, with its savoury aftertaste and sublime texture.¡±

    ¡°I do not know what those words mean, so you are therefore incorrect¡± Yorin nods to himself.

    Kisrin chuckles at Tantra¡¯s glare.

    ¡°Perhaps we should increase your studies then?¡± Tantra threatens, ¡°So that I may infuse some culture into that head of yours.¡±

    Yorin pales, ¡°please don¡¯t, honourable tutor, I am already dying of boredom from my current tasks.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Tantra puts on a smug smile, ¡°admit that noodles are better than rice and perhaps I will grace you with my mercy.¡±

    Kisrin turns to Tantra looking scandalized at her underhanded tactics.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you start, boy. That threat extends to you as well.¡± She points at him.

    Kisrin scrunches his brow, ¡°Honourable Tantra, I¡¯m only a year younger than you.¡±

    Tantra and Yorin look shocked at the boy, ¡°Really?¡± Yorin asks.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    Tantra puts a hand on his shoulder, ¡°my condolences honourable disciple Kisrin. Perhaps the gods will grant you mercy in other matters.¡±

    Kisrin scrunches his brow, ¡°I feel as though I should be insulted.¡±

    -

    ¡°Tantan!¡± Ranya whines, ¡°the new disciples are being mean to Ranya!¡±

    Tantra looks up from her book at the girl who has invaded her privacy, ¡°Forgiveness senior Ranya, but why should I care?¡±

    Ranya pouts, ¡°because they¡¯re from your group, and it would be bullying if Ranya beat them senseless. At least until they¡¯ve finished their foundations.¡±

    Tantra blinks at Ranya, ¡°You¡¯ve completed your foundations?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Ranya shrugs, ¡°but being daemon possessed has its upsides. Like being super strong!¡±

    Tantra sighs and closes her book, ¡°right, the daemon, is that what this is about?¡±

    Ranya nods ¡°They called Ranya the ¡®daemon queen¡¯ and ¡®eyes of the endless¡¯!¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t those complements?¡±

    ¡°They are not!¡±

    -

    Tantra is having a day.

    Six disciples kowtow in front of her, not to her, no, that would just be confusing. Instead their obeisance is directed towards one ¡®Ranya of the void¡¯, apparently.

    ¡°A thousand apologies if we have done something to offend the great ¡®daemon tamer¡¯¡±

    ¡°Ranya does not tame daemons! She just has one stuck to her soul.¡±

    ¡°Without going on a rampage.¡± another points out, ¡°that alone is worthy of our admiration and dedication, oh dark one.¡±

    Ranya stomps her foot to the ground like a petulant child. ¡°Tantan! Beat them up.¡±

    ¡°There are six of them.¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°It matters not!¡± One of the disciples rises from her kowtow to face Tantra, a determined look in her eye, ¡°we will gladly subject ourselves to any punishment the ¡®flames of the seven hells¡¯ deems appropriate¡±

    Tantra groans, ¡°daemons don¡¯t come from the hells, that¡¯s demons.¡±

    The girl looks at her skeptically, ¡°what''s the difference.¡±

    Tantra rubs at her brow in annoyance, ¡°One is the manifestation of suffering while the other-no, you know what? Research it yourselves.¡±

    ¡°But we don¡¯t know how to read,¡± one of them whines.

    ¡°That¡¯s not my problem.¡±

    ¡°Tantan! Come back, you still have to beat them up!¡±

    -

    Jorin Karr is not a kind man, nor a very smart one, but he doesn¡¯t care much. The children don¡¯t need him to be smart nor kind, and neither does the sect. They need him to be strong, to serve as an example and protection when required.

    He brings up a hammer and slams it down on his hand.

    He needs to be strong, it is not a question, or a suggestion, it is reality. The world isn¡¯t so kind as to leave weaklings to their piece, so there has to be the strong. Many have different views on what it means to cultivate. Jorin isn¡¯t one to wax philosophical, he prefers simple explanations. To cultivate is to gain the strength to do as you please, everything else is just personal sentiment.

    He brings up the hammer and slams it down on his hand.

    Hmmm, it¡¯s not breaking. That¡¯s both good and bad. Jorin doesn¡¯t want to deal with finding a better hammer, this one is forged from a steel-drake scale mixture, designed specifically for this purpose. It was expensive, and he had to dip into the meager coffers of the sect to afford it.

    Coffers which are now bursting at the seams.

    No, he cannot. The Elders have found their windfall and he won¡¯t take that from them. His personal distaste for how those funds were acquired notwithstanding.

    -

    Tantra walks into her home after another session of brutal (mildly intense) training, finding Karaz staring down a pot of dirt as though it owed her a significant sum of coin.

    Tantra hesitates to ask, but curiosity killed the cat as they say, ¡°honoured senior, what are you doing?¡±

    Karaz doesn¡¯t even bother to look at her, staring intently at the pot.

    ¡°I¡¯m growing a MoonBlossom rose Tantra, what does it look like?¡± she bites back.

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°By staring at it senior?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s encouragement¡±

    ¡°You are¡­encouraging the flower to grow,¡± Tantra says slowly, ¡°forgive this junior, and I say this with the utmost sincerity and respect, but that is not possible.¡±

    Just as she finishes her sentence a small bud peeks out of the dirt in the pot. Tantra stares, flabbergasted.

    Karaz smirks, ¡°do not question my knowledge so early into your own journey, little junior. As repayment, you will help me grow this flower!¡±

    -

    Ranya skips into her home after the day''s fun is over. She makes her way to the living area to find Karaz and Tantra staring down a pot of dirt in utter silence. Ranya glances at the both of them, then grabs a seat and joins in.

    -

    Another day of hunting and Sola makes her way back home. The lack of blood might fool a fool as to her activities, but a true cultivator can smell the death on a blade so recently delivered. She opens the door and enters the living area only to find all of her housemates staring sternly at the stem of an immature flower.

    She groans.

    Not another one.

 Ch.6:Haggle

    Managing a thread of Qi is a lot like juggling, it requires constant movement, coordination, and dexterity. The more Qi in the thread the more balls there are to juggle. The metaphor kind of dies a gruesome death once another thread is added, but the point is the meager act of pulling Qi is complicated and requires intense focus and skill. That brings us to Tantra, who is sitting cross legged in her bed, weaving together two threads of Qi into one small rope.

    She has spent an hour ''circulating¡¯ and the rope has yet to travel a single inch, it simply takes forever to weave together the threads. That simple separation at the start of the process exacerbates the ethereal burden to a point where she¡¯s sure even her soul will be sore.

    But it¡¯ll all be worth it, her control will hopefully see a marked improvement, and Yorin can stop his whining. They only miss half their classes! Besides, she¡¯s a fantastic tutor, he¡¯s already pulling ahead of his peers. On the other hand, over a month of needing to alternate which day she gathers Qi and which one she circulates has left her further behind the pack. It¡¯s not a dramatic change, but she can tell they¡¯ve been getting better with the exercises, her included. She just isn¡¯t experiencing the same rate of growth.

    She¡¯s a little jealous honestly, they don¡¯t have to pull Qi from the world. One night''s rest and voila, a full core at their disposal. She doesn¡¯t have that luxury. Tantra doesn¡¯t even remember the last time her core was full.

    There is a knock on her window.

    Tantra¡¯s brow twitches as she loses control of the rope and the Qi dissipates, spreading out into the atmosphere. She turns to her window, stomps her way there, and opens it rather violently. Kisrin is on the other side with a sheepish expression.

    Tantra narrows her eyes at him, ¡°my fellow disciple, while it is a pleasure to see you, we are, in fact, in possession of a door.¡±

    Kisrin scratches the back of his head, ¡°apologies disciple Tantra, I came to pick you up for training, but your housemates seemed determined in their refusal to inform you of my presence.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°and so your last resort was to knock on the window of a lady?¡±

    Kisrin blushes and bows, ¡°a thousand apologies, disciple Tantra!¡± he yells.

    Tantra waves him off, ¡°no need, now get out of the way.¡±

    Kisrin seems confused but does as she says, Tantra takes a breath and jumps out the window, doing a roll as she lands on the ground. Kisrin has a look of shock and surprise on his face that Tantra almost laughs at, but the long hours of controlling her expression in the merchant world proved useful as serene indifference graces her features.

    Kisrin stares slack jawed as she brushes off her robes.

    ¡°Well, disciple Kisrin? We may as well be off.¡±

    -

    The center of the training field is filled with the shouts of children as they each punch the air to the tune of master Karr. They stand in horse stance, an unsuitable form for combat, but Tantra assumes it''s more for stressing the legs than it is for combat. It wouldn¡¯t surprise her if cultivators devised methods to multi-task training. Next they¡¯ll have them balance buckets of water while hopping between posts, or carrying bags of sand up and down the mountain. She stops that train of thought as she¡¯d rather not tempt fate.

    ¡°One!¡±

    A dozen hands snap forward, punching air as they yell out their battle cries. Tantra doesn¡¯t get the point of all the yelling, is it supposed to be intimidating? They don¡¯t yell in combat, it¡¯s a waste of breath and a massive tell to your next move. She guesses it¡¯s some more cultivator bullshit, probably too awkward to have a bunch of students punch air in silence. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Two!¡±

    In what is a hopefully smooth motion, Tantra pulls back her right arm and throws out her left, snapping her hip to add power. That¡¯s a pretty crucial thing she¡¯s learned about punching, if you just use your arm, you¡¯re not gonna do much of anything. Just a love tap really. Instead you have to put your whole body into the punch, every muscle moving in synchronicity to provide a more devastating blow. Tantra doesn¡¯t think her punches are particularly devastating, but damage is damage, and that¡¯s good enough for her.

    -

    Yorin munches on an apple as he watches Tantra collect the forest¡¯s bounty from his perch on the treetop. She¡¯s almost at her merit goal for a Qi stone, he¡¯s tried to help her but she always refuses. Refuses? Yes, that¡¯s the word¡­he thinks. He really should be studying instead of lazing on a tree but his brain honestly can¡¯t handle Tantra¡¯s expectations. He barely escaped with the excuse that he could watch for any beasts from up here.

    Which he hasn¡¯t been doing because, you know, forest.

    He can¡¯t exactly see through trees.

    Would be pretty cool though.

    So instead he keeps his eyes on his latest friend. She has a habit of using fancy words that he doesn¡¯t understand, but she¡¯s surprisingly calm, unlike his other fellows. They''re all about duels and competitions and honour, he¡¯s grateful to his past self for approaching her and not having to deal with all that.

    Everyone seems to avoid her like the plague for some reason. Well, except for Kisrin, but he''s a given, all things considered. He¡¯s hoping to make a new friend but the boy is too awkward, and keeps trying to talk like Tantra. Which is kind of creepy ¡®cause that means he knew how she talks before they actually talked.

    Hmmmm.

    Maybe Yorin should look into that.

    Later, he¡¯ll do that later. For now he has an apple to eat and studies to skip.

    -

    Tantra skips down to the merit hall, giddy for perhaps the first time since coming to the Serpent''s Fang sect. Her basket weighs heavy on her back, but she doesn¡¯t care, she¡¯ll finally have enough! Now she can spend her entire evening practicing control instead of gathering Qi. Ok, that thought puts a slight damper on her excitement, but still, progress is progress is a step closer to home. Tantra swings open the doors to the merit hall, ignoring the dozen or so servants on her way to the delivery area, Yorin follows behind with a bemused expression.

    ¡°Good day honourable Bomin!¡± Tantra chirps, ¡°I¡¯m here to deliver my bounty.¡±

    Bomin chuckles, ¡°get something good for me today Tantra?¡±

    ¡°Yup! One DuskBloom flower, and a bunch of other assorted foliage.¡± She replies

    Bomin raises a brow, ¡°a DuskBloom?, you didn¡¯t travel deeper than the outskirts, did you now?¡±

    ¡°Now Bomin, I would never do something so foolish. No, the gods saw fit to bless me on this day. I discovered this beautiful specimen just before coming back to the sect.¡± Tantra says as she waves around the flower.

    Bomin chuckles, ¡°Alright, alright. I get it, it¡¯s a very nice flower, now let¡¯s get down to business¡±

    Tantra lets loose a shark-toothed grin, ¡°I¡¯d say the DuskBloom alone should grant me one-hundred merits.¡±

    ¡°What?!?¡± Bomin exclaims, ¡°you trying to scam me girl? Seventy at best.¡±

    ¡°Come now Bomin, all you get are the younger disciples, you¡¯ll never get another chance at one of these in your lifetime. Ninety merits¡±

    Borin rubs at his brow, ¡°No,no, even if it¡¯s a unique opportunity it''s not worth such a cost. Eighty five, final offer.¡±

    ¡°Deal!¡± Tantra says enthusiastically, offering her hand which the man reluctantly shakes.

    ¡°I swear, you¡¯re going to drive this poor old man broke.¡± He laments.

    ¡°I would never, besides, I''m sure the alchemists will be quite pleased by your acquisition.¡± She comfort¡¯s.

    Bomin sighs, ¡°Indeed they will, indeed they will. Now, let¡¯s get that basket over with before you give me a heart attack.¡±

    Tantra smiles, ah the merit hall, best place in all the Serpent''s Fang.

    -

    ¡°I always forget how cruel you can be,¡± Yorin muses, ¡°poor Bomin.¡±

    Tantra waves him off, ¡°don¡¯t be so soft hearted Yorin, that¡¯s how a proper merchant sinks their teeth into your coin purse.¡±

    Yorin chuckles, ¡°I think I just witnessed the opposite Tantra, how much do DuskBlooms normally go for anyway?¡±

    Tantra shakes her hand, ¡°around sixty to seventy, but that¡¯s if you¡¯re going for one of the more well known buyers. A lot less wiggle room to haggle with those.¡±

    Yorin tilts his head, ¡°mother always told me to be wary of merchants, I think I¡¯m starting to see why.¡±

    A sad smile finds its way on Tantra¡¯s face, ¡°yeah,¡± she says softly, ¡°we¡¯re quite scary.¡±

 Ch.7:Spear

    The magnanimous master Jorin Karr, has, in his infinite wisdom, decided to distribute weapons to children.

    ¡°The spear is a peasants weapon,¡± his voice travels across the field, ¡°easily made and easily spread. It is the most common weapon you¡¯ll find in mortal hands, and that is for good reason. It is effective, few are the mortals that could survive being run through. It is also, conveniently, the easiest weapon to teach. Stab, slash, block. That will be your routine for the next month, I will drill spearmanship into your very souls before you can even think of moving on to another weapon. Now, spread and scatter, I do not want you to accidentally stab each other.¡±

    The children, vibrating with excitement, do as he says as Tantra reluctantly finds a place where she can swing around her death stick without hurting anyone. Master Jorin settles into a stance, left leg forward, right leg back, like how one might stand if they were fist fighting. The difference being in the weapon settled into both hands that he steadily points forward, providing a barrier of guaranteed injury to anyone who dares enter.

    ¡°First, the stab,¡± He says, shifting his legs slightly as he rotates his hips and extends his reach as he pushes the spear forward, ¡°A simple motion, keep your footing firm, and put your body into the blow like you might a punch. With your off-hand you will aim, and with your main hand you will thrust. Now, demonstrate.¡±

    Tantra takes a deep breath as she shifts her muscles to mimic the master, putting all her weight on her front leg as she pushes with her back leg. She points the spear ahead and thrusts, a quick and powerful motion, even for her. Most of the others forgot the master''s words and simply pushed the spear forward, Jorin noted those who performed properly in his mind.

    ¡°Now, the slash¡± He brings the spear up slightly, then pushes it down as he pushes forward, the spear cuts through the air smoothly as master Jorin resets and does the same for the horizontal and diagonal. ¡°There is no need for dramatics. The slash isn¡¯t something you¡¯ll use often with the spear, unless it becomes your weapon of choice, but always remember to keep your weapon pointed at the enemy. Wind-ups only serve to make you look foolish. Demonstrate.¡±

    Tantra brings up her spear, pushes slightly forward, then cuts down, copying the master''s motions. She does the same for the horizontal and diagonal.

    ¡°Finally the block,¡± the master goes through a confusing series of forms all unique from one another and focused on a different part of his body, ¡°defence is always the most difficult to teach, because it is dependent on your opponent''s offence. For now I will teach you the basic block that you will practice daily, the overhand block. Watch.¡±

    -

    If pulling on the Qi of the air is like breathing in mist, then pulling from a Qi stone is drinking from the ocean. There is so much condensed energy in the pale glowing rock the size of her palm. It only takes half an hour of meditation to gather enough Qi to make her core full. She could just disperse her Qi after training and be done with it, sure it¡¯s massively inefficient, but it works, and it¡¯s what she assumes the rest of her peers have been doing. She¡­technically doesn¡¯t need to do her control exercises anymore, at least not until the stone runs out of Qi, and by then she should already have another. But something feels wrong about that, this was a gift, and while she finds the concepts of gifts nebulous at best, the librarian doesn¡¯t really have anything to gain by currying her favor. Would it be right to simply ignore such an opportunity? The book surely came from the upper floors, the ones that require a proper foundation to even survive, and white she hasn¡¯t gotten very far in the first exercise, it has been helping in her circulation. But she can¡¯t spend half her days circulating just for the sake of it.

    She decides to compromise. She will disperse her Qi after training, as inefficient as that is, then she will dedicate herself to control training for at least three hours in the evening, leaving the day open to forage or train as she pleases. She nods, yes, that is quite the good compromise.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°Why are you nodding to yourself?¡±

    Tantra screeches as she jumps off her bed and assumes a fighting position, only to find Sola sitting innocently with a slight smile.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve moved on to fight, eh?¡± She says with a chuckle.

    Tantra grumbles, ¡°I thought we were done with this, you haven¡¯t pulled your appearing act for the whole month!¡±

    ¡°What? No, ¡®honourable senior¡¯? What happened to my sweet little Tantan?¡±

    ¡°She died of a heart attack, and don¡¯t call me Tantan¡± Tantra retorts.

    ¡°Ranya calls you Tantan.¡± Sola points out.

    ¡°Ranya is a child. Convincing her to use my proper name would prove a greater challenge than moving a Terradorak.¡±

    ¡°Some cultivators can do that.¡±

    Tantra snorts, ¡°only in stories I¡¯ve met an immortal while they are horrifying, they aren¡¯t that strong.¡±

    Sola perks up, ¡°You¡¯ve met an immortal?!? Oh you have to tell me this story sweet sister, or I¡¯ll haunt you for the rest of your days.¡±

    Tantra grumbles but acquiesce

    -

    Tantra has indeed met an immortal, once. About a third of her life ago when she was just eight years old. She hesitates to refer to what she saw as a person, it looked like a person, talked like a person, even walked like a person.

    But it couldn¡¯t have been.

    Standing next to her father was a thing radiating mist, with pupils of pure white that pierced through her soul. Its skin was porcelain, like a well crafted sculpture . It wore robes of blue with a yellow trim.

    ¡°Daughter!¡± Said her father, all jubilation and no fear, ¡°come child. Come greet the venerated Rokun Daza! He has come a long way from the barbarian lands to grace us with his presence.¡±

    The sound of wind chimes echoes through the hall as the thing lets out a soft chuckle.

    ¡°Now, now Tokar, no need to overwhelm the child. So you are Tantra? Your father has certainly sung your praises. So much so that it has left me intrigued. I would speak with you, if it wouldn¡¯t be any trouble.¡±

    Tantra¡¯s throat was too dry to answer, and that¡¯s assuming she could have mustered the courage to do so in the first place. She had never felt death before, never felt suffering. Not as a tangible force at least, but this thing wore both as a cloak. It was too intense, so much so that even her mammalian instincts couldn¡¯t come up with anything to do but freeze and hope that whatever was in front of her wouldn¡¯t be her end.

    Her fathers smile had grown a little brittle at the awkward silence that ensued, ¡°Tantra,¡± he had said, ¡°do not be rude to our venerated guest, come and give your greetings.¡±

    There was a hint of paternal warning there.

    She didn¡¯t move an inch.

    The thing rubbed at it¡¯s chin as it stared into everything that she is and will be, ¡°are you afraid child?¡±

    Tantra barely mustered the strength to nod.

    It raised a brow and then it was in front of her. Not like teleportation, or anything so simple. In one moment it was next to her father, in the next it was in front of her, as though it were always there. As though reality bent to recognize its desire, and did so without complaint.

    Tantra almost fell on her ass, the only thing stopping her from doing so being how tense every muscle was in that moment. It took her a moment to realize she was shaking.

    ¡°Interesting,¡± said the wind chimes, ¡°you can see it can¡¯t you?¡±

    Tantra shakes her head.

    It tilts its head, ¡°you can feel it?¡±

    She nods.

    The thing taps at its chin, ¡°that should not be possible,¡± it muses.

    Then It gives a light tap to her head with a finger.

    The next thing she remembered, she was laying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

    -

    ¡°Oook, all I got from that is that it¡¯s badass. How does that prove your earlier point?¡± Sola queries

    Tantra harrumphs, ¡°it was too skinny.¡±

    Sola blinks at her, ¡°Tantra, you realize that muscle mass doesn¡¯t matter right?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an image problem.¡± Tantra retorts, ¡°how can someone skinny as a stick manage to carry anything?¡±

    ¡°He knocked you out with a touch.¡±

    ¡°That was just his Qi.¡±

    Sola tilts her head, ¡°are you just arguing for the sake of arguing?¡±

 Ch.8:Calm

    Tantra is dying.

    Although she says that for every jog. Why does cultivation have to involve so much pain? Did a massive masochist discover the mystic arts and pass it down through the generations? If that¡¯s the case, Tantra¡¯s gonna find them and strangle them until their face turns blue.

    Hmmmm, no, they¡¯d probably enjoy that.

    The jogs, as always, don¡¯t really need description. It¡¯s a jog. Her legs ache and lungs burn and the smell of so much sweat is an offence to her sinuses. Which is why it¡¯s quite surprising that she actually finds herself enjoying it for once. She hasn¡¯t suddenly become an enthusiast for cardio, no, it¡¯s much more mystical than that. She won¡¯t have to spend hours on end maintaining the focus needed to circulate! Truly a momentous occasion, she¡¯s actually pushing herself harder to get this over with and experience vindication. Her core is bursting with energy just ready to be dumped into her body, she¡¯s almost eager.

    So it¡¯s a little sooner than usual that she finds herself being dragged by one of the assistants to the side to circulate. Ah circulating, such a misnomer for what she¡¯s about to do, she settles into a cross-legged position and reaches into her core. She isn¡¯t delicate, she doesn¡¯t need to be, she just opens her core fully and lets the energy seep into her body.

    Well, about a tenth of the energy, but it¡¯s still enough.

    When she opens her eyes, barely any time has passed, and she lets a wild smile loose.

    ¡°Well, well.¡± Says a familiar voice, ¡°congratulations junior, you¡¯ve finally accomplished the basics¡±

    Tantra schools her features and turns to face the girl, ¡°Forgiveness disciple Etra, but you are not my senior.¡±

    Etra shrugs, ¡°senior, junior, they¡¯re just titles to compare strength; and in regards to strength I am superior in every way. Once you manage to beat me in one of our ¡®duels¡¯ I¡¯ll gladly call you senior.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°Those titles are used in relation to when you started the journey, not strength. We started at the same time, therefore, you aren¡¯t my senior.¡±

    Etra chuckles, ¡°going right to the details huh? I¡¯d almost be surprised if it weren¡¯t so typical. Tell me, how does all that crammed knowledge serve your brain when it¡¯s getting rocked by my fist?¡±

    ¡°It serves me just fine,¡± Tantra replies smoothly, ¡°provides the perfect padding.¡±

    Etra looks shocked, then lets out a long laugh, slapping her knee a few times.

    ¡°So you are capable of humor.¡± She finally says wiping a tear from her eye, ¡°I was starting to think you were as bland as unseasoned rice, color me pleasantly surprised.¡±

    Tantra refuses to smirk at the girl, they are not friends, still she can¡¯t help the slight twitch that breaks through her mask. One in which Etra seems to have noticed, as she puts on a wide smile of her own.

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit, acting more like a cultivator by the day.¡± She says, ¡°maybe there¡¯s some hope for you after all.¡±

    -

    Tantra has a lot more free time since getting the Qi stone. Which means a lot more time in the library. ¡°Tantraaa,¡± Yorin wines, ¡°I¡¯m sooo bored¡± Tantra glances at the boy but pays him no mind.

    ¡°Uncultured swine.¡± Kisrin sneers, ¡°books are the height of intellect, of ingenuity, of creativity!¡±

    Yorin gives Kisrin a flat look, ¡°Papa says that only pussies base their personality on a girl¡±

    Kisrin goes purple and sputters out a retort that Tantra doesn¡¯t really listen to, she¡¯s engrossed in the migration patterns of Ghoma antelopes, a rare species of ungulate spirit beast. They travel the whole eastern continent throughout the seasons, starting from mount Ghoma in the winter down to the Devils fissure during summer. They, ironically enough, search for harsh climates rather than avoid them, which seemingly works wonders for their survival as they are some of the strongest herbivores on Testhim. They don¡¯t even have a predator to be wary of, other than an unusually strong spirit beast.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Tantra reads happily as Yorin and Kisrin have entered into some such argument, so engrossed in her book that she doesn¡¯t realize the presence of the librarian until a wave of Qi washes over all three of them.

    Tantra freezes, mammalian fear overtaking her decision making as the librarian walks over.

    ¡°Now, I know we aren¡¯t the most prestigious, lacking in patronage as we are, but this is still a library.¡± He says, his voice seeming to overtake any possible noise, ¡°you will be silent or you will get out¡±

    ¡°Yes, master librarian¡±

    ¡°Apologies master librarian¡±

    Both the boys bow.

    The librarian grunts ¡°you should be more like your friend there, all focused on learning rather than talking.¡±

    Tantra smiles slightly, although sweat still beads on her forehead, ¡°thank you, master librarian.¡±

    -

    Tantra weaves two threads of Qi together, ever so slowly, like two snakes coiling around one another. She¡¯s gotten faster, although not by much, but it¡¯s noticeable. Though that¡¯s the thing with the metaphysical, it¡¯s a lot harder to measure progress than its physical counterpart. So for it to be noticeable means it is significant, at least by her measure; and her measure¡¯s the only one that matters to her so it¡¯s the one she¡¯s using. She coils the threads together and pulls them taut, letting the rope travel further through her body, reaching the solar plexus. The heart doesn¡¯t have any meridians, because that¡¯s where the core lies, so reaching the solar plexus makes her somewhat giddy. She threads and threads as the hours pass.

    -

    Dok the duck is staring at her as she eats her rice.

    It¡¯s been staring at her for the past ten minutes, she does her best to just keep eating her rice. She refuses to acknowledge the thing as it eyes her.

    Sola enters the living area with a yawn, then stops short at the sight of Tantra.

    ¡°Tantra?¡±

    ¡°Yes, honoured senior?¡±

    ¡°Why are you sitting on the table?¡±

    ¡°No reason¡±

    -

    Tantra throws out a jab, swift and fast. Karaz brushes it aside as she enters Tantra¡¯s guard and pushes her back.

    ¡°Too slow and too eager.¡± Karaz taunts, ¡°I could see that from a mile away¡±

    Tantra ignores the verbal jabs as she produces a few physical ones alongside a right cross. Karaz dodges the jabs and blocks the cross, bringing up her leg slow enough for Tantra to raise her guard and protect her head. It hits like a battering ram, knocking her slightly aside despite her senior holding back. Even if they¡¯re both disciples of the foundation realm, the difference between their physical capabilities is stark. She doesn¡¯t know how long Karaz has been a disciple of the sect, but it¡¯s clearly more than just a few years.

    As Tantra resets her stance, Karaz throws a hook that she actually manages to dodge. Well, if you consider taking a step back dodging. Karaz takes a step forward and follows up with a flurry of jabs that Tantra can¡¯t follow, forcing her to cover her face with both arms as she weathers the blows. Tantra ducks once the next jab is delayed and is vindicated when a hook cuts through the air above her, she brings her fist up and buries it in Karaz¡¯s guts. The girl grunts as Tantra follows up with an elbow to the chin that Karaz barely dodges with a tilt of her head. Then the girl headbutts Tantra¡¯s face.

    ¡°Oh shit,¡± she says as Tantra falls to the ground, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, got caught up in the fight. You did pretty good at the end there.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tantra replies nasally, ¡°Senior? I think you broke my nose.¡±

    Karaz waves her off, ¡°just a flesh wound my young disciple, happens all the time.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure the nose is made of cartilage.¡± Tantra points out.

    ¡°Eh, tomato tomahto, cartilage is basically just fleshy bone¡± Karaz replies.

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°that doesn¡¯t sound right at all.¡±

    ¡°Hah! That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong junior, this senior has the highest scores in biology and medicine, so anything I say must be correct.¡±

    ¡°They teach medicine here?¡±

    ¡°If the Elders deem you worthy, which I am.¡± She replies smugly

    -

    Rizin doesn¡¯t really do much for the sect, he sweeps the floors and cleans the houses when the disciples are training, but otherwise he¡¯s left to his own devices. He finds that odd, as a servant, shouldn¡¯t he be worked to the bone? That¡¯s how it was in his previous sect. This schedule actually gives him some time to cultivate, although he¡¯s too old to take the tests. But discipleship isn¡¯t the only path to immortality, at least that¡¯s what he chooses to believe as he pushes his Qi out to his body. He¡¯s barely progressed over the years, but he has progressed, and he holds to that like a lifeline.

    He¡¯s too focused on cultivating to notice the dagger that pierces his throat.

 Ch.9:Blood

    Tantra likes sleep, it¡¯s a nice period of rest and relaxation for both body and mind. No matter how rigorous the training, she always wakes up feeling refreshed, albeit quite sore. Which is why she takes great offence to anything that would interrupt said sleep. As horns blast throughout the sect, Tantra does her best to cover her ears with a pillow. What is this? Some summons for surprise training? She grumbles as the horns keep blasting, trying and failing to ignore the noise.

    Then her door swings open.

    Sola steps into her room with an expression Tantra hasn¡¯t really ever seen grace her features, makes her look sharp and kind of dangerous. Which is a little funny considering she¡¯s a child.

    Tantra giggles as Solas gaze locks onto her form.

    ¡°Tantra, get up.¡± she says with a hint of command in her voice, ¡°this isn¡¯t the time to be giggling like a fool.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m no fool.¡± Tantra retorts, ¡°now let this one sleep. This one is tired and grumpy.¡±

    Sola walks over and tears away Tantra¡¯s blanket.

    ¡°Noooo, why are you like this Sola?¡± Tantra whines, as she tries and fails to grab the blanket back.

    ¡°Tantra, I don¡¯t have time for whatever this new angle you¡¯ve got going on is.¡± Sola says, ¡°I need you to get up and move.¡±

    ¡°But whyyyy?¡± Tantra whines some more, ¡°I don¡¯t want to do night training, I just wanna sleep.¡±

    Sola blinks and stares at the girl as she fights her for the pillow, ¡°Tantra , that¡¯s the alarm for an attack.¡±

    That sobers her up rather quickly.

    -

    Tantra is fiddling with her spear as she waits with the others by the door. The atmosphere is rather dour, except for Ranya, she just seems like the typical Ranya, humming joyfully as she polishes her cutlass. Tantra finds it kind of funny that the youngest of them is the one least affected by the potential oncoming violence.

    Not that Tantra¡¯s worried, if this is the work of bandits, which she chooses to believe because otherwise she will be very dead very soon, then they won¡¯t care much for the houses of the disciples. Bandits are all about stealing coin and other valuables, and there isn¡¯t really anything of value here.

    Well, except for Tantra.

    She¡¯d make for a fairly lucrative ransom.

    But their chances of knowing that she¡¯s here are slim to none, so she keeps that out of her mind. Karaz nudges her shoulder with her own.

    ¡°Ready for your first taste of blood junior?¡± she says nervously, clearly trying to break the tension and failing miserably.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather we spill no blood, honoured senior¡± Tantra replies

    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that!¡± Ranya chirps, ¡°violence is our bread and butter. Ranya will take the lead if you''re too scared, and you can deal the final blow!¡±

    Tantra¡¯s stomach turns, ¡°I¡¯d prefer if I didn¡¯t have to kill anyone at all.¡±

    ¡°Too bad,¡± Sola says sharply, ¡°you''re a cultivator, no matter how much you might resent that fact. Sooner or later you¡¯ll have to deal with death, and I say the sooner the better.¡±

    Tantra goes to reply but is interrupted by the door bursting open.

    -

    Bandits are usually just a pain in the ass, poking with their little spears and spouting their little threats. The bandits from the stories, that most who haven¡¯t had the pleasure of meeting one might have heard, usually paint them as something horrifying. A bane to cultivators everywhere if you will, they always focus on the legends and not the facts. Still these ones are impressive despite their deficiencies. Jorin grabs one by the throat and squeezes, she flails and struggles but goes limp as her neck snaps.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°Natia!¡± one of them screams, ¡°you bastard, I¡¯ll cut off your head and leave your corpse for the worms!¡±

    Jorin throws the body aside and lets out a yawn as he slaps the man across the yard. Then he leisurely walks up to the group of bandits as they point their weapons at him. One of them raises a spear and thrusts with all their strength, the thing bends and breaks at the neck, but it does shed a small drop of blood.

    Oh? Was that infusion? Impressive, for a bandit.

    He snatches the spearhead before it can clatter to the ground and shoves it through the man''s skull. It is a rather boring fight from there, Jorin slowly killing off a few dozen bandits one by one as they try and fail to do any real damage.

    That¡¯s the thing with cultivation at his level, things just stop getting fair, though they couldn¡¯t have known that one such as him was present in the sect. Well, they could¡¯ve, if they did their research, but that¡¯s expecting too much from bandits.

    Still, the fact that all of them have completed their foundations is noteworthy. It turns what would be a slaughter into a mildly inconvenient culling.

    -

    Tantra can barely breath, barely has time to breath.

    There is a theory amongst cultivation circles that when under the threat of death the soul automatically boosts the body with Qi. Now, this is meaningless for anyone past the foundation, branching out into one of the many realms of cultivation. But to someone still going through it? Well, the whole point of the initial realm is to acclimate the body to Qi, so that it doesn¡¯t destroy itself.

    Tantra can feel her body screaming at her as she blocks another blow that threatens to sweep her off her feet. She¡¯s keeping up, If barely, with the man in front of her. She pushes out a thrust that he backhands, parrying a blow from Ranya with his sword. Karaz rushes in and punches him in the kidney, the man grunts and brings his sword down, screeching on the metal of Karaz¡¯s gauntlets as she blocks. Sola appears in front of the man and digs a serrated dagger into his shoulder before pulling out, causing a geyser of blood to pour out. The man barely twitches as he kicks her in the gut, sending her crashing into the wall.

    Tantra thrusts as Ranya swings and the man has to choose between spear and cutlass.

    He chooses neither as he simply twirls between the blows, displaying a feat befitting an acrobat rather than a fighter. His blade whips out and cuts Tantra across the chest, she screams as she pulls back in both pain and fear.

    The man is like a hound, smelling blood as he rushes Tantra with a series of swings. The first goes for her neck, it nicks, creating a shallow cut as she rushes back. The second cuts into her shoulder and through her collar bone, Tantra screams again as pain overwhelmed her. The last swing is blocked by Ranya as it fails to cut Tantra in half. Tantra falls to the ground leaking blood and tears.

    Why is she here? Bleeding to death on the floor of a home that isn¡¯t hers. What did she do to deserve this? She should be back home in Johim city, managing petty trade deals as the eldest tries to manage the transition their fathers death would have brought. She shouldn¡¯t be here, playing at being a cultivator with a crippled soul. There is so much hatred she has for her dead father at this moment. Why? She asks why did you do this to me? What did I do for you to push your idiotic dreams unto a child?

    She misses the haggling, misses the lectures, and misses her family. But he didn¡¯t pick a simple sect with simple routes to take her too, no, he chose the Serpent''s Fang, with the nearest village being miles away, and the roads being nothing better than packed dirt. She hopes he¡¯s happy for fucking her over like this, for ruining her life.

    Karaz screams as she is run through and falls to the ground, and Sola hits the floor hard as the man backhands her in the face.

    The sound of steel is overwhelming as Ranya holds back the man''s fury all on her own.

    Ranya¡­Ranya is the only reason they¡¯re still alive, while the rest could hold their own for a little while, she can keep up. Moving with speed and strength that beggars belief for one still of her age, still traveling the foundation realm.

    Ranya is just a child, Tantra never asked, because that would be rude, but she surely hasn¡¯t passed the double digits in age. So young and saddled with the fate of a daemon, yet she¡¯s always so chipper, always so happy. How does she manage it? Being dealt such a shit hand and still remaining so joyful.

    Tantra grits her teeth and gets to her knees, knuckles white on the shaft of her spear, facing the back of the man as he bullies Ranya into a corner. She moves as silently as she can, blood dripping to the floor as she balances her spear with one hand.

    With all the indignation she can muster she thrusts her spear in a last bid for survival.

    It pierces through the mans back and comes out of his chest, he looks back at her as shock morphs to anger, he gets ready to swing at her and Tantra closes her eyes.

    Death doesn¡¯t come.

    She opens her eyes to find the headless corpse of the man as Ranya stands on top of him.

    ¡°Ranya is alive!¡± She proclaims, then coughs out some blood. ¡°Though she does need the workings of the medicine hall.¡±

    Dok the duck honks.

 Ch.10:Small Victories

    Tantra has found herself with a sudden explosion of free time as she lays on her cot. Apparently the Serpent¡¯s Fang takes recovery quite seriously, and the masters refuse to let her participate in training until she is whole and hale. Not that she¡¯s complaining, she¡¯s just bored, the only thing to occupy her being threading together Qi. Which while not thrilling, does work in passing time quickly.

    ¡°How are we feeling today?¡± says a woman of modest stature and vibrant green eyes.

    ¡°Much better,¡± Tantra replies, bowing from her cot. ¡°This one thanks healer Toka for her meticulous care.¡±

    Toka sighs, ¡°You know I¡¯m attached to the Dao of health right? I can literally see the wounds and how they hurt you. Putting up a front for your healer isn¡¯t a medically advisable course of action, little bean.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°last I checked, I am quite human.¡±

    Toka snorts, ¡°disgustingly so, but we can work on fixing that once you get back to your training.¡±

    Toka goes over her wounds, changing bandages and applying salves, It hurts quite a lot when Toka reaches her collar bone, and she doesn¡¯t make it a secret with a rather large wince to accompany every application. Eventually Toka is done, fresh bandages applied and wounds tended to, Toka grabs her tools and goes to stand.

    ¡°Well, call for me if you need anything,¡± Toka says, ¡°I¡¯m rather swamped with disciples to take care of right now,¡± and so she heads off.

    Unfortunately, those aforementioned disciples weren¡¯t the ones on patrol, they¡¯re mostly dead, no, quite a few more houses were raided, resulting in a multitude of dead and injured. Yorin is one of them, huddled somewhere in the medicine hall, she knows because Toka told her when she asked. Kisrin is fine, even came to visit a few hours ago, his home was untouched. He promised to bring a few books, of which Tantra can hardly wait to crack open, hopefully he has good taste.

    All of this distracts from the issue of Karaz. She¡¯s alive, if only barely. Her wound progressed to an infection that the healers are fighting fiercely to suppress, using actual Qi techniques rather than simple salves. That, above all else, is why she feels no guilt for her part in killing that man.

    Although the anger on his face after she stabbed him¡­she doesn¡¯t think she¡¯ll forget that anytime soon. She doesn¡¯t think she¡¯ll be able to forget that whole encounter, even if a mentalist tried to erase it from her mind.

    ¡°Thinking dark thoughts hmmm?¡± Says a voice beside her.

    Tantra jumps, turning to see the librarian sitting cross-legged next to her cot, cheek on his fist as he regards her.

    Tantra lets out a deep breath, ¡°I didn¡¯t see you there master.¡±

    He grunts, ¡°It happens when you''re all focused like you were. Have to start making spatial awareness a habit, no telling when you could be attacked after all.¡±

    Tantra casts down her gaze, ¡°indeed.¡±

    ¡°Learn to get used to the violence girl.¡± He says suddenly, ¡°if you survive you¡¯ll see a lot of it.¡±

    Tantra nods hesitantly, ¡°yes master.¡±

    The librarian sighs, ¡°don¡¯t just agree girl, I can tell you have more to say.¡±

    Tantra looks down at her hands, ¡°what do I have to say master? I almost died, but I didn¡¯t. I fought for my life and came out alive. What else is there to say?¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t enjoy that you had to do it,¡± he points out.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°No,¡± she says

    He takes a sip from his wineskin then passes it to her. She can smell the sharp scent of alcohol, something strong. She takes a swig.

    ¡°Were you afraid?¡± He asks as she hands him back the wineskin.

    Tantra looks away in shame, ¡°yes master.¡±

    ¡°Why were you afraid?¡±

    Tantra looks at him perplexed, ¡°I almost died.¡±

    ¡°Indeed you did,¡± he nods, ¡°but by your own admission you didn¡¯t, and that¡¯s all you had to say on the matter, so why were you afraid?¡±

    Tantra stares at the man then hugs her knees, ¡°I have many siblings,¡± she says, ¡°my father took on many concubines. I was afraid I''d never get to see either again, that I would die in this place and they would be none the wiser.¡±

    He takes another sip from his wineskin and passes it back to her.

    ¡°Is that why you cultivate? To someday reach home?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± She says.

    ¡°Noble,¡± he nods, ¡°but foolish. Few are the chances we get to become immortals, fewer still for those like you. Yet you wish to throw it all away once you leave this place?¡±

    ¡°I never chose this life,¡± She spits out.

    ¡°Do you think the peasant chooses to be a farmer, or the soldier chooses to fight for his liege? No, they are the cards life has given us, and you have been dealt quite the nice hand. Yet instead of being grateful you resent the thought of being here, of becoming something that defies the fate of the heavens rather than a simple merchant.¡± He says ¡°I have to admit you confuse me.¡±

    ¡°Forgiveness master,¡± She says, ¡°but in what world is someone like me meant to cultivate?¡±

    ¡°In what world indeed.¡± He muses, ¡°and yet here you are. You¡¯ve made progress in the last two and a half months, the girl from back then would not have survived an encounter with a cultivator in the midst of purification. Do you not see, girl? You could become like one of us, all it takes is a bit more dedication than your peers.¡±

    ¡°Forgiveness, but I don¡¯t want to be like you.¡± She says a little too sharply.

    The librarian sighs, ¡°think it over at least.¡±

    -

    Eventually she was discharged from the medicine hall, with explicit orders not to participate in the training until at least next week''s check up. She¡¯s not complaining about that verdict. Leaving more time to read and weave, she did a lot of that in the medicine hall, and she doesn¡¯t plan on stopping now. Her control hasn¡¯t skyrocketed with the extra time, not by any means, but now after only an hour of weaving the rope can reach her brain. She wonders how long it¡¯ll take just to reach the next exercise. She assumes that she only should once her weaving is just as fast as her current circulation speed. But she has something else to worry about. Half of her core is filled with Qi from her soul, not enough to cleanse a major meridian, but perhaps with her control, meager as it is, she can open up one of the smaller ones.

    It¡¯s skipping ahead a bit, normally the seven main meridians are opened in the foundation realm and the rest are dealt with after. It¡¯s almost a waste to use it on one of the twelve hundred and thirty two minor meridians so early, but she is in no way ready to cleanse a major one. She heads over to her home after visiting Yorin, ignoring Dok on her way in, and enters her room, sitting cross legged on her bed.

    She takes a deep breath and enters her inner world. Well, not really, that¡¯s not how it works but its a close enough description. She views all the tangles and impurities, in her chest is one gigantic meridian, almost as large as her core, but that is not her focus. Perhaps it will never be her focus. No matter how much she progresses, it doesn¡¯t change the fact that her soul will always produce its meager offerings, and fighting off the taint would be a losing battle unless she does it in one go. Which requires a much bigger core and potentially months worth of soul Qi.

    Seriously, her, a cultivator? When she can¡¯t even do something so basic? Ridiculous.

    She puts that out of her mind and focuses, searching for one specific meridian until¡­there. Meridians filled with taint look almost like a void, like something hungry searching to feast. If given normal Qi it will simply grow, Qi from the very soul however?

    That is perfect for exterminating vermin.

    She pushes a constant thread of Qi into the meridian as the taint slowly burns away. It is a war for dominance, she has to do it all in one go, or she won¡¯t get another chance. Over the course of an hour she maintains this until finally, there is no rot to be found, opening up one of the minor meridians and connecting it to her soul.

    She sighs in relief as she opens her eyes and feels the pain in her right collarbone subside slightly. There¡¯s a slight smile on her face, sure she accomplished something basic, and the rest of her meridians will be marginally harder to cleanse, but she did it. Something she never thought herself capable of.

    She takes a whiff of victory.

    ¡°Good gods, that smells horrendous.¡±

 Ch.11:Greif

    Three-hundred disciples call the Serpent¡¯s Fang their home, of that number thirty-two were killed, a little less than half being past foundation, stabbed through the heart like common fodder. Tantra missed the wake for the dead, on account of being treated for some rather severe wounds, but she didn¡¯t really know any of them so it would feel¡­like trespassing honestly. But she still went to the burial stone to read their names, out of respect more than anything. She was mildly surprised when she found Etra standing by the stone, staring at one of the names with a fierce intensity.

    She glances at Tantra, but doesn¡¯t acknowledge her presence otherwise and continues her brooding. Tantra just walks beside her and reads off the names. She lists them off one by one, trying and failing to commit them to memory.

    ¡°He was my friend,¡± Etra says suddenly, ¡°back from the village, both of us were dead-set on becoming immortals together.¡±

    Tantra is stunned for a moment at the unexpected communication, she looks over to the name on the stone.

    ¡°Jaka Roan,¡± Tantra says aloud.

    Etra just nods.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she says, not really knowing what else there is she can provide.

    They sit in silence for a few moments, each occupied with their own thoughts.

    ¡°What about you?¡± Etra asks, ¡°who did you lose?¡±

    ¡°No one,¡± Tantra says, ¡°I came here to pay my respects, not to mourn.¡±

    Etra scoffs, ¡°truly, you are becoming more and more like a cultivator by the day.¡±

    Tantra chuckles.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, I don¡¯t think I could ever really be a cultivator.¡±

    Etra smiles softly, ¡°yeah, neither did Jaka. I was the one who convinced him to try, fat lot of good that did him.¡±

    Tantra stands silently, staring at Etra through her peripheral vision. The girl looks¡­broken, her usual strength gone from her posture, her usual boisterousness absent from her voice. She has never experienced grief besides her father, and even then it wasn¡¯t from violence, so she doesn¡¯t really know how to sympathise. She can empathise though.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault,¡± Tantra says, ¡°no one could have known that this would have happened.¡±

    Etra just stares at the name.

    ¡°Except for the heavens,¡± she quips.

    Tantra pulls her into a hug.

    ¡°Except for the heavens,¡± she echoes.

    -

    Tantra stares at the ceiling of her room, her housemates haven¡¯t been as excitable as usual since the attack, considering Karaz is still fighting for her life, and hanging out with Yorin and Kisrin feels wrong right now, so she just stares at her roof, contemplating life and all its mysteries.

    Like why humans choose to kill one another.

    Some of the disciples killed were of the age of majority, but most were still children. All sharing the simple dream of immortality, ironic that, in a morbid sense. Most people die on the path to immortality, that isn¡¯t some well-kept secret, it¡¯s an implicit understanding amongst all those who cultivate. Everyone just thinks they won¡¯t become one of the fallen.

    It¡¯s funny how the path to immortality leads to so much death.

    Funny how it leads so many to kill one another.

    What would the world look like, she wonders, where everyone stayed mortal?

    Perhaps it would be more peaceful, or perhaps not.

    Cultivation isn¡¯t the root of all evils, it just makes it easier for evil people to do evil things, and for good people to do good things. All measured in the dedication to the path rather than worthiness or some such nonsense.

    That¡¯s the one commonality between all cultivators, dedication and determination. What is she dedicated to, she wonders? Her family? Coin? The dao?The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    That last one was a joke.

    Haha.

    She likes to think she cares for her family more than coins, but she is a merchant at the end of the day. Hopefully she isn¡¯t so cold hearted. She misses her mothers, her biological mother died in childbirth, so the harem adopted her instead. All raising her to become an exceptional business woman, a dream her father trampled on by sending her here; and her father¡­she misses her father.

    He was always so jovial, so full of life. A kind, portly man, with a tongue of silver and hands of gold. She loved him, she still loves him, beyond the grave. He was her idol, she wanted to be just like him, haggling big deals and going on adventures on the big routes across Testhim. Seeing the world in all its beauty.

    She holds onto that dream like a precious flame in a blizzard.

    -

    There is a knock on their door, Tantra looks up from where she¡¯s doing the dishes to look down the hall. ¡°I¡¯ll get it¡± Sola says, as she appears, sitting by the kitchen table. It wasn¡¯t much of a surprise since she was petting Dok the whole time, and feeding him grapes. It¡¯s actually kind of surreal to see a floating vine of grapes slowly being plucked and delivered to the duck.

    Sola opens the door, and on the other side is master Jorin Karr, braids hanging low to the floor and eyes sunken.

    ¡°May I come in?¡±

    Sola stares, then nods, ¡°of course master.¡± She turns to Tantra, ¡°Tantra, get Ranya.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Just do it.¡±

    Tantra shrugs and moves away from her spot into the kitchen, through the living area, and down the hall where two doors adorn each side. She knocks on Ranya¡¯s door. It promptly swings open.

    ¡°Good evening Tantra!¡± She says, ¡°Ranya was meditating, but she can always make time for you.¡±

    Tantra smiles, ¡°thanks Ranya,¡± she says, ¡°Sola wanted me to get you, master Jorin is here.¡±

    Ranya freezes at her words, staring at her with a shocked expression, ¡°he is?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    Ranya pushes her out of the way and dashes to the living area, Tantra follows, confused as to her urgency. Ranya stops right in front of where Jorin is sitting and interrupts his talk with Sola.

    ¡°Where is she?¡± Ranya demands.

    ¡°Ranya¡­¡± Sola says.

    Jorin sighs, ¡°hello to you too Ranya, my apologies, it¡¯s been too long.¡±

    ¡°You did not come here to chat with Ranya, where. Is. Karaz¡±

    Jorin fiddles with a token in his hand before placing it gently on the living room table.

    ¡°She has returned to the cycle,¡± he says softly, ¡°my apologies, disciple Ranya.¡±

    What?

    Tantra stares at the man.

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Tantra asks.

    ¡°What it sounds like.¡± Sola says sharply.

    ¡°Sola,¡± Jorin admonishes, ¡°let her process. The first is always the hardest.¡±

    Sola looks down, chastised.

    Ranya hasn¡¯t said anything, just standing there despondent.

    ¡°She passed just a few hours ago,¡± Jorin says, ¡°the healers tried their best, but alas, the heavens spit on our efforts. As they are wont to do,¡±

    ¡°Which clan?¡± Ranya asks, a dangerous undertone to her voice, ¡°which clan came here.¡±

    Jorin looks at her pityingly.

    ¡°It does not matter.¡± He says, ¡°Any disciple below the foundation realm is banned from traveling past the sects borders, and those above it must go in groups of at least five.¡±

    ¡°I can hold my own.¡± Ranya bites back.

    ¡°If you could,¡± Jorin says, ¡°you would have taken the bandit alone, and your friend would still be alive.¡±

    The blow hits Ranya like a backhanded slap, tears form in her eyes as she stomps back to her room.

    ¡°That was cruel,¡± Tantra admonishes, surprising herself and Sola, but Tantra doesn¡¯t take it back.

    ¡°Better cruelty to nip the bud of vengeance forming than meaningless platitudes.¡± Jorin says.

    There is silence after that.

    ¡°Sola.¡± Jorin says, ¡°leave us, I have things to discuss with her.¡± He points at Tantra.

    Sola stares, then nods and vanishes. After about a minute master Jorin fetches something from the pocket of his robes and places it on the table.

    ¡°This,¡± he points at the dial, ¡°is a polygraphos, forged with the dao of truth. Once infused with a sufficient amount of Qi, it will tell me whether or not you are lying.¡±

    ¡°Master?¡±

    ¡°Bandits don¡¯t come for the Serpent¡¯s Fang,¡± he ignores, ¡°To attack a cultivator''s home is to risk destruction, even with a sect as pitiful as ours. They¡¯d only attack if there was something here of value, say, for example, a significant sum of coins.¡±

    Tantra stares at the man and says her next words slowly, ¡°are you saying I brought them here?¡±

    Jorin shrugs, ¡°you, or the Elders who took the deal in the first place, it does not matter. What has passed has passed and blame lies with the killers, not with the victims.¡± He says, ¡°My question for you, is if you told anyone of this deal before and after coming to the sect?¡±

    He places his hand on the dial and pushes so much Qi into it that the world bends at a singular point as the dial glows a faint white.

    Jorin nods at her.

    Tantra licks her lips nervously, ¡°other than those who already knew, and the people in this house? No, I told nobody.¡±

    The dial screeches as it turns slightly to the right.

    Jorin snatches the dial and pockets it as he stands, ¡°good.¡± he says as he goes to walk out of the house.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Tantra says, ¡°what did it say?¡±

    Jorin glances at her, ¡°the fact you are still alive should answer that question.¡±

 Ch.12:The World Is Cruel

    It takes a few days, Tuesday specifically, for Karaz¡¯s death to really sink in. Nothing special was really going on, this was just the day that Karaz trained her, for that chess match she won oh so long ago. It¡¯s funny, she still isn¡¯t even well enough to train, weeks after the attack, and yet the errant thought still enters her mind. How she should go knock on Karaz¡¯s door. She almost walks over and does it too, then she remembers.

    Oh, she thinks, Karaz is dead.

    The thought stops her short, standing in the hall, just a few steps away from her door, where she¡¯d always answer at this time because all the friends she had could be found in this building.

    Damn, she thinks, being a beast-blood must have been rough.

    Then she puffs out a chuckle, that¡¯s what comes to mind right now? Her chuckle turns to a laugh, which turns to hysteria until eventually making its last stop to tears. The others are home, surely they can hear her sobbing in the hall? Then again, would she really want to be seen like this?

    No, no she wouldn¡¯t.

    Why is she crying? She didn¡¯t even know Karaz for that long, didn¡¯t even know her story. They were just housemates who ribbed at each other every now and then. Tantra never would have expected her death to impact her so.

    Then again, she never expected her to die.

    Tantra crouches down to the floor, hugs her knees, and continues her crying.

    -

    ¡°Look!¡± Yorin says gleefully as he shows off his new scars, one is on the edge of his lip, where a blade split his cheek in two. Another runs along his chest diagonally, a fresh pink. There are others, along his arms and legs, but those are shallow cuts, apparently making them not worth showing off. ¡°Don¡¯t they look so cook?¡±

    Tantra chuckles, ¡°I¡¯m just glad you¡¯re alive, disciple Yorin.¡±

    Yorin frowns, ¡°come on, not even a little excited, I know you¡¯ve got scars too. Don¡¯t tell me you don¡¯t care about such an essential part of the journey.¡±

    Tantra hums, ¡°I find them quite ugly, if I were being honest.¡±

    Yorin gaps at her, scandalized, his mouth does a mighty good impression of a fish as he tries and fails to respond to her statement.

    ¡°Nonsense, honourable Tantra,¡± Kisrin starts, ¡°I¡¯m sure the scars will only serve to compliment your looks.¡±

    Tantra looks at him and raises a brow, ¡°are you courting me, disciple Kisrin?¡±

    The boy blushes hard and stutters, causing Tantra to laugh with a soft melody. Kisrin looks down as heat reaches his ears.

    ¡°I¡¯m only teasing, disciple Kisrin,¡± she pats him on the back, ¡°I know you don¡¯t see me in that fashion.¡±

    Yorin rolls his eyes, ¡°oblivious idiot,¡± he mutters under his breath as Kisrin gathers himself.

    ¡°Of course honourable Tantra, of course¡± he says.

    Tantra smiles softly, at least they are alive.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    -

    One swing, two swings, three swings, four.

    Sweat runs down her brow as she practices, she doesn¡¯t stop, she can¡¯t stop. She is no stranger to death, there was Ratham before Karaz, died to the venom of a pinewood viper. That hurt, that hurt a lot, but not like this. Ranya has known Karaz for years, knows her strength, knows her ferocity. She is young but she is no fool, to walk the path is to court death, for any and all.

    The only reason she¡¯s even a cultivator is because of her little friend.

    Pretty crappy friend all things considered, since it feeds like a parasite on her soul.

    Karaz had made her promise that she would never give up on herself, that she would always fight the fate life has given her. It was difficult at the time, to keep on fighting after a loss so fresh, but Karaz wouldn¡¯t take no for an answer.

    She¡¯s debating on whether she should break that promise now that she is gone.

    No, that would be disrespectful to her memory.

    But she can¡¯t keep moping, can¡¯t keep going with sadness and gloom. So she chooses anger instead, it¡¯s pretty easy, considering she has a convenient target for her rage. She doesn¡¯t know which clan attacked their home, but she will eventually, if she doesn¡¯t stop looking.

    The ban can¡¯t last forever, and then it will be time.

    -

    Watching people has become a habit of hers, ever since she learned how to bend light to make her invisible. She picks a bench or stump to sit on and just observes the comings and goings of her fellow disciples, after all, what''s an invasion of privacy between sect siblings? Besides the constant pain and drain of Qi, it gives her something to focus on. Something other than that ugly emotion called resentment.

    She knows, intellectually, that it wasn¡¯t the new girls fault. She couldn¡¯t have known after all, and it wasn¡¯t her choice to begin with. Some dumbass of a parent decided it would be a good idea to throw her to the wolves, hoping to catch some pelts. The thought tempers her more emotional side, but not enough to where she doesn¡¯t risk saying something hurtful, and she doesn¡¯t want to be like that.

    Doesn¡¯t want to be someone that brings pain.

    The world spreads enough of that as it is without her contribution.

    So she avoids the girl entirely and keeps herself busy by furthering her cultivation. From what she understands, she is the youngest of the sect to have touched the dao, before she even completed her foundations. The dao of light is an esoteric thing, a lot of it is just the radiation of heat, but that application is too expensive for her body to take right now. Instead she bends it like a band, enhancing her stealth tenfold by removing one of the primary methods of detecting her; it requires a lot more finesse, but the results are worth it. Then again it kind of becomes useless once a cultivator starts to enhance their Qi senses, then her technique would be a beacon rather than a cloak.

    She¡¯s learned how to hide her body, now she needs to learn how to hide her Qi.

    Shouldn¡¯t be too hard, she¡¯s just never heard of that kind of technique, but just about anything can be done with Qi, so she doubts it¡¯s an impossibility.

    -

    MOTION, it looks on at the world as things move and squirm, both small and big, fighting to survive and thrive. It watches a jaguar of red pounce on a goblin, tearing the creature apart and feasting on the flesh of its bones. It watches as so many people gather together for the collective purpose of killing one another, charging from the field into the hands of death. It watches as souls are harvested and returned, only to find new bodies to live and die in.

    VIBRATION, it listens as the world screams its melody of beautiful agony. It listens to a mother weeping at the death of their child, at a father who screams out accusations to the heavens. It listens as a new heart begins to beat within the womb of a concubine, as she is blissfully unaware of the new and wonderful soul she carries. It listens to the howls of the wolves at the rise of the moon, a pack separate yet together. It listens to the prayer of a child, hoping to one day be wise like their father and strong like their mother. It listens to the cries of bloody murder as a woman is sent to the gallows.

    CHEMISTRY, it tastes the decadence of a rich man, slowly being fed his grapes. Tastes the gruel fed to prisoners, and the meat torn off a fresh kill. It smells the rot and decay of a corpse forgotten to the woods. Smells the alcohol on a man''s breath as he tries to forget the horrors of the past. It smells the debauchery of the red light district, and the fear that wafts of a woman as she cowers in front of a being beyond her ken.

    SENSATION, It feels the lovers touch, as two desperate souls engage in a moment of bliss before having to face the horrors of the world. It feels the touch of the blade pierce through the stomach of a child. It feels the tears running down a man''s face as he witnesses all that he has built crumble to dust. It feels the sharp pain of knuckles as a mother lays hands on her own blood. It feels the fur of a majestic beast, standing tall above the mountains with the dominance of something that cannot be challenged.

    IT KNOWS THAT THE WORLD IS CRUEL, AND IT DOES NOT CARE.

 Ch.13:Tropes

    There¡¯s not much to do but weave, read, and think.

    She does as little of the third as possible, as it usually goes into a sad little spiral down to the bottom of the hells. So instead she trains, the rope of Qi that she makes can reach all the way up her arm to her fingers, the past week of doubling down truly showing its worth. She feels as though this were too easy, if control could be improved at this rate, why doesn¡¯t everybody do it? She could probably cut down her circulation time by half without the Qi stone. Which is still a considerable amount of time, but that much progress in the span of just six weeks? It seems ridiculous. Cultivation is a thing of slow steps, and while a single year can signify significant improvement to the cultivator, in the grand scheme of things? It would be considered almost nothing. There are immortals, like the Bandit King Zanzibar, who have lived for thousands of years. You¡¯d think after all that time cultivating they could take on armies alone, but no, they still need the hands of lesser men and women if they wish to secure a kingdom. It¡¯s why many immortals don¡¯t take the public stage, piss off enough people and your life could end by the hands of thousands.

    Not much to do to distract from her thoughts.

    So she reads.

    Did you know that Jorik Theokal, the current ruler of the Rikidan empire, started his journey as a shit shoveler? It¡¯s a rather popular tale, a literal rags to riches story. Except it happened. Ruler over the second largest empire in the world, the one that Yormakar owes its fealty to. He didn¡¯t think he would ever cultivate at first, at least according to the story, but when his mother was left to die with no treatment after a plague from long ago, he decided that things had to change, and that he would change it. He hailed from what is now the most prosperous sect of Rikidan, The Jewel In The Dragon''s Eye. That wasn¡¯t its original name, that one was lost to time, replaced by something more grandiose befitting its stature. That sect disciples hundreds of thousands of people regularly, and many who leave its halls go on to become something famous in their local communities. Also it''s attached to the capitol, so it isn¡¯t isolated like the Serpent''s Fang, which is a huge plus in her book. Because of Jorik, the research into medicine and the dao¡¯s related to health and healing have hit multiple breakthroughs, all because of a little boy who missed his mother. Yet not enough to save Karaz, evidently.

    No, that¡¯s a bad thought.

    We¡¯re not doing bad thoughts right now.

    ¡°Master librarian?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Yes girl?¡± The Librarian answers absently, engrossed in a book about insectoid taxonomy and Qi mutations.

    ¡°Why do all the good tales of immortals start with tragedy?¡± she asks.

    The librarian looks up at her with a raised brow, ¡°All that you¡¯ve read perhaps, they used to have more variety back in my day.¡± He says ¡°But to answer the question, it¡¯s because people can sympathise with someone who has suffered.  Injustice, fate, whatever really. Because it makes them seem human, despite how far from it they are.¡±

    Tantra muses on that, it makes some amount of sense. All immortals started as mortals, and being what they¡¯ve become doesn¡¯t preclude what they were.

    ¡°Have you ever met an immortal?¡±

    The librarian quiets at that and looks off into the distance.

    ¡°Yes,¡± he said, ¡°Fatham of the flame, met him before I even started cultivating. Burned down my home and roasted my family alive, all for the insult of the dry bread and bland rice offered by the peasant family he deigned to grace with his presence. I lived because he didn¡¯t see the point in wasting his Qi on a toddler.¡±

    Tantra stares at the man as he flips through his book, that¡¯s¡­that¡¯s incredibly sad.Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look at me like that girl, that was ages ago, I¡¯ve long since moved on from the trauma.¡±

    ¡°How?¡± she asks.

    The librarian shrugs, ¡°time is the healer of all wounds, if you let it be.¡±

    -

    Toka examines Tantra''s collar bone, taking note of the massive gash that has now become an ugly scar of deep purple, and checking for stability and range of motion in her arm. She hums as they go over basic exercises, moving her arm back and forth, up and down, around and around. The motions make her collar sore, but otherwise she¡¯s fine.

    ¡°Good,¡± Toka says, ¡°your bones seem to have reattached themselves, a quick recovery is always welcome. We can work on taking off the internal cast now without too much worry. You can rejoin your fellows in training, but no weapons or sparring until at least your next check up.¡±

    Tantra bows, ¡°thank you, honourable healer Toka, you have been instrumental to my recovery.¡±

    Toka waves her off, ¡°think nothing of it, I only did what I was trained to do.¡±

    Tantra keeps her bow, ¡°Still you hold my gratitude.¡±

    Toka sighs, ¡°let''s just get that cast out and you can go back to all the joys of cultivation.¡±

    -

    Yorin is skipping down the field as he heads over to Tantra¡¯s home, he has good news! Very good news, hopefully good enough to make her feel better. He passes by a bemused crowd of disciples as he makes his way down the dirt path to the girls living area, they¡¯re on the opposite side of the¡­neigh-bor-hood? He¡¯s always just referred to where he lives as a village, but apparently that isn¡¯t the right term. It¡¯s okay, he¡¯s learning! His brain is becoming bigger, or something, he doesn¡¯t know.

    He taps his knuckles on the door to her home and waits. It doesn¡¯t take long for the door to open to reveal¡­a duck. He stares at the duck, it stares back at him. It honks, he honks back. He hears a guffaw and suddenly there is a girl in front of him slapping her knee.

    ¡°You must be Sola!¡± Yorin says with a smile, ¡°is Tantra home?¡±

    ¡°One-¡± a laugh ¡°one moment big guy, I have to recover from that display. Why did you honk back at Dok?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only polite!¡± Yorin replies, ¡°it said something to me so i¡¯m just saying something back.¡±

    Sola wheezes, ¡°oh you precious soul, come, I¡¯ll get Tantra, you go sit on the couch.¡±

    Yorin beams a smile and heads over to the living area, plopping himself down on the couch stuffed with cotton. Such a luxury! He only used wood furniture before coming to the sect, a few he even made, like the little standing board for his brother. Silly little hyena, just learned how to crawl and already he¡¯s causing havoc in the house.

    Ah, memories.

    He can¡¯t wait to go back home, once he¡¯s a proper cultivator, then he can spend his days protecting the home he¡¯s known for all his life. Giving back is what it is, and maybe he could train a few young¡¯uns to take his place instead of relying on the sects.

    That¡¯s assuming he can secure the resources of course, but all in due time.

    He hears a scream and snorts, that must be Tantra.

    Sure enough the girl walks into the living area looking frazzled and somewhat annoyed.

    ¡°Yorin,¡± she says as she stops in front of him, ¡°what do you want so late into the evening.¡±

    ¡°Come sit.¡± he says joyfully, ¡°I have news, won-der-full news.¡±

    He can see how Tantra fights off a smile on her precious mask.

    He doesn¡¯t really understand the purpose of it, why not let your emotions show on your face? It¡¯s only natural. The face was made to express not to be set like a sculpture. Ah, sculptures, he didn¡¯t know what those were beyond stories before visiting the sect museum. He doesn¡¯t know what those people did to get giant sized versions of them carved in stone, but it must have been great.

    ¡°So? While I enjoy your company I was training.¡± She says.

    Right, daydreaming in a conversation is rude, can¡¯t have that.

    ¡°Well,¡± he says slowly, ¡°you know Silsim, my housemate?¡±

    Tantra nods, ¡°the one with all those tattoos and different coloured eyes, right?¡±

    ¡°Yep!¡± Yorin replies, ¡°Well he¡¯s rather special, he¡¯s friends with one of the young masters, the older one I think, and he trains personally under master Jorin. Really a prodigy that one!¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Tantra says slowly, ¡°while i¡¯m sure his exploits are many and grandiose, I don¡¯t see why that brought you here.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m getting there,¡± he says, ¡°anyway, being so con-ec-ted means that he gets to know things we don¡¯t know, or before we get to know them.¡±

    Yorin pauses dramatically to increase the tension and excitement, to the bemusement of Tantra.

    ¡°There¡¯s going to be a tournament!¡± He blurts out, unable to contain himself, ¡°In one month''s time!.¡±

    Tantra stares at him, slaps an arm over her face, and groans.

 Ch.14:Days Go By Like Water Through A Ravine

    There is, in fact, going to be a tournament; that much was confirmed two weeks after Yorins declaration by master Jorin himself. ¡°This is a momentous occasion!¡± he had said, ¡°you have all proven your worth in joining this sect, now you must prove your dedication to the path! In two weeks time the disciples of the River¡¯s Scales will come down along with their master to test your value. You will show them that we are strong, you will show them that we are wise, you will show them that we are true cultivators!¡±

    That¡¯s right, an inter-sect tournament, the River¡¯s Scales are coming down to the Serpent¡¯s Fang to duke it out between their best and brightest, and their worst too, but the focus is mostly on the stars of the show. She is well enough to fight now, and Etra is making up for lost time beating her derriere by challenging her to a duel everyday. She could swear her soul was bruised at this point, considering how much of a beating she¡¯s received.

    Speaking of,

    ¡°Yorin, Kisrin! Where is she?¡± Spouts a demon taking the form of a simple girl.

    ¡°Apologies disciple Etra, where is who?¡± Kisrin questions.

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me that baby-face, you know exactly who I''m talking about,¡± Etra replies.

    ¡°Well, maybe if the honourable disciple Etra learned politeness, I''d be inclined to help.¡± Kisrin says, Yorin lets out an ¡®ooh¡¯ as Etra turns red.

    ¡°Boy, I will beat your ass all the way to Sunday if you don¡¯t tell me where she is,¡± Etra threatens.

    Kisrin, bless his heart, snorts, ¡°please disciple Etra, the role of the jester doesn¡¯t suit you, you should go back to being a mindless brute.¡±

    Etra¡¯s temper flares, ¡°Oh yeah? we¡¯ll see who''s the jester once I turn your face into a carnival piece. C¡¯mon shrimp, I challenge you to a duel!¡±

    ¡°very well, I will present my condolences to your family.¡± Kisrin nods solemnly.

    Both of them walk away to the training field, and only once she¡¯s sure it¡¯s safe, does Tantra lower herself from the branch she¡¯s been hiding on.

    ¡°She¡¯s determined,¡± Yorin says, ¡°I like it, full of that cultivator fire¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s insane is what she is,¡± Tantra grumbles, ¡°I¡¯m surprised she hasn¡¯t broken my bones at this point.¡±

    ¡°Would that be so bad?¡± Yorin ventures, ¡°It would make you stronger.¡±

    Tantra gives him a flat look, ¡°Yorin, I get it, you¡¯re a cultivation enthusiast, and an idiot, please develop a personality.¡±

    Yorin puts his hand over his heart like he¡¯s been struck, ¡°You wound me honourable Tantra! I¡¯m only an idiot sometimes.¡±

    Tantra rolls her eyes, ¡°sure, sure. Now, how have your studies progressed? I hope you have filled that mind with some knowledge.¡±

    ¡°Please Tantra,¡± Yorin groans, ¡°please don¡¯t, you¡¯ve thoroughly beaten my brain to mush. Why do I need to know Impala species are fast boys! They don¡¯t even live on this side of Testhim! When will I ever get the opportunity to hunt one?¡±

    ¡°Hunt!?!¡± Tantra gasps, ¡°why would I teach you these things to hunt such majestic creatures?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t feel the same way about birds.¡± Yorin points out.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the same, birds are the agents of Doghoth¡¯thor¡±

    ¡°OH TANTRA, I¡¯VE FOUND YOU!¡±

    Tantra turns to see a furious Etra sprinting in her direction, she nods, turns, and runs for dear life. She¡¯s taken enough beatings that they shouldn¡¯t kick her out for cowardice.

    -

    ¡°Whatcha looking at?¡± Sola appears next to her side, and Tantra barely musters the composure not to scream. She¡¯s been getting better at this.

    ¡°Just a book on Qi control,¡± She replies smoothly, ¡°Reading in advance to see what I can look forward too, It¡¯s all¡­rather complicated.¡±This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Oh? Practicing control to make up for that lackluster connection between your core and soul?¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°exactly.¡±

    ¡°Well, don¡¯t keep a girl waiting, I could always use new methods to cultivate.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°what would you need with greater control?¡±

    ¡°Well, not much. But it could translate pretty well to my dao.¡±

    Huh, so she does have a dao, pretty obvious considering her disappearing trick but confirmation¡¯s always nice.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Tantra says, ¡°The first exercise is simple enough, you just grab two threads of Qi, instead of one, and weave them together like you might a rope.¡±

    Sola raises a brow, ¡°can it only be two threads?¡±

    Tantra tilts her head, ¡°I¡¯ve never tried but it¡¯s mentioned in the book, along with threading multiple ropes together.¡±

    ¡°Well we can always try all that later, what about the rest?¡± Sola asks

    Tantra flips a few pages back a few pages and points to two specific words, input and output.

    ¡°So for this one you have to pull on a thread of Qi, then put it back into your core, that¡¯s the flow input. You have to keep your hold on it, preventing it from integrating with the rest of your Qi. Flow output Is how much Qi ends up on the other side, the more the better.¡±

    Sola blinks, ¡°That¡¯s¡­a big jump from threading Qi together.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°yeah, it¡¯s rather ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as the third exercise.¡±

    Tantra flips a few pages forward, ¡°¡®Net Qi distribution¡¯, tell me what you think that means.¡±

    Sola taps her chin and hums, ¡°It sounds like the density of Qi in the core, but liquid Qi is something only Anchored Souls can achieve, otherwise it¡¯s just the same all around.¡±

    ¡°Yeah that¡¯s what I thought too,¡±  She says, ¡°but then I read this-¡±she points to the words ¡®Qi voiding¡¯ ¡°-and found out it¡¯s talking about Qi outside the core¡±

    Sola looks flabbergasted at her, ¡°what?¡±

    ¡°I know!¡± Tantra throws her arms in the air, ¡°you''re supposed to void all your Qi, then assert your will on all of it at once. Then you slowly organize it equally throughout the body, being careful not to let a single drop get lost to the atmosphere. It¡¯s ridiculous!¡±

    ¡°How are you even supposed to stay conscious with no Qi in your core?¡± Sola asks.

    Tantra sighs, ¡°Apparently, so long as the Qi isn¡¯t lost, you should be able to keep yourself awake forcefully.¡±

    ¡°That¡­that sounds insane.¡± Sola says, ¡°Do I dare ask what¡¯s next?¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°haven¡¯t checked yet, I¡¯ve been examining all the variations on this exercise first. Let¡¯s see¡­¡±

    She flips a few pages forward and starts reading with Sola beside her, excitedly waiting for Tantra to finish. Tantra scrunches her brow as she stares at the pages.

    ¡°Okay, this is bullshit.¡±

    -

    Tantra is running, again.

    Wow, how surprising.

    She¡¯s gotten pretty good at the act of throwing one leg ahead of the other at violent speeds though. Enough to where she could surpass all the disciples in her peer group when they first came to the sect, which is surprising, considering most of them are farmers. Before coming to the sect she only jogged occasionally, and not to complete exhaustion as she does now.

    She¡¯s learned that that¡¯s actually a pretty crucial point of cultivation, sure, you can circulate your Qi after a light jog or a hard day of work, but the benefits grow exponentially when you bring your body to its brink. The harder you¡¯ve pushed yourself, the easier it is for Qi to absorb into your body. It¡¯s gotten to a point where Qi travels noticeably smoother in her legs than the rest of her body, since runnings the exercise she always chooses over push ups, except for that one time

    The point of foundation is to acclimate the body to Qi, so that it doesn¡¯t damage itself when using Qi to boost its abilities, this comes with some additional benefits, like making Qi easier to control in the areas more acclimated, as well as boosting all aspects of that part of the body. Calling yourself a cultivator before completing this stage is kind of like comparing a tiger to a cat. The ability to boost the body with Qi so long as you posses it is staggering in the difference it can make, as evidenced by an untrained bandit managing to almost defeat four disciples on his own.

    Three of which have training for years, and one of those three being possessed by a Daemon that enhances her physical prowess to the foundation level.

    She really shouldn¡¯t think about that.

    Back to the running then. It¡¯s gotten easier, which means she either has to take longer or push harder. Yorin still has an annoying habit of slapping her back, he has soared above his peers because of the extra training he¡¯s maintained despite her no longer needing the whole day to circulate, she even considered joining him if it wouldn¡¯t drain her Qi stone precipitously, so instead she sits aside weaving and chatting with Kisrin. He¡¯s starting to take to the control exercises as well, though she doesn¡¯t know why since most of his major meridians have been cleansed.

    Damn, she¡¯s surrounded by prodigies.

    The merchant side of her rubs its hands with glee at the potential connections with future cultivators, but the majority¡­kind of feels disgusted by the thought of taking advantage of them. This isn¡¯t like back home, where she had only family and anyone she called ¡®friend¡¯ was just a useful asset. These are genuine, and¡­wholesome.

    She¡¯s sure she¡¯ll miss the feeling when she¡¯s gone.

 Ch.15:Fabulous, Stupendous, Glorious!

    At the tail end of summer, just creeping into autumn, the River¡¯s Scales sect marched a procession into the home of the Serpent''s Fang. Two groups of youth glare at each other, one adorned with robes of deep purple, bordering on black; the other graced with vestments of ruby red. At their head is a woman with eyes of crackling embers, pupils pinpoint.

    ¡°Welcome!¡± Says a portly man whose voice sounds like a master artisan carving through bone, ¡°¡°your journey has surely been long and fraught with perils. Come, rest your weary heads at the hearth of my home.¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± says the crackling bonfire, ¡°my students require rest before they beat yours into the ground.¡±

    The man laughs a joyful tune of calcification, ¡°always the competitive one, well come on then, soon we¡¯ll put those words to task.¡±

    The woman nods and walks beside him, the rest of their conversation being incomprehensible from the distance and lack of boisterous yelling.

    -

    Tantra sighs as she walks up to the centre of the field, didn¡¯t even take a day for someone to challenge her, despite the fact that they should be resting in preparation for the tournament. Cultivators are dumb.

    ¡°Come, honourable disciple,¡± Says the boy across from her, ¡°I can see your dedication to the path from the many bruises that marr your features, come, show me a cultivator''s spirit!¡±

    ¡°I think you¡¯ll be disappointed honourable disciple, this one has obtained these bruises because of her own ineptitude. Not from dedication as you so claim,¡± Tantra replies.

    The boy barks a laugh, ¡°humble as well? Truly you possess many virtues. Come, I will test your worth myself.¡±

    Tantra sighs again and gets into her stance, she stares at the boy examining his movements and-

    He is in front of her.

    A fist crashes into her guard, sending her rolling as she pushes herself back up and barely avoids a kick that cuts through the air. She throws out a jab but he is no longer there, she makes a guess and ducks.

    It was the wrong guess, a foot digs into her side as she is thrown across the field, falling on her back once again.

    She gets back up.

    He throws a fist into her gut, causing her to double over, then he brings a hammer fist to the back of her skull, sending her crashing to the floor.

    She gets back up.

    He sweeps his leg and she takes a step back, responding with a front kick, actually managing to hit her target. It doesn¡¯t do much but make him stumble, and in a normal fight this might have been an opening to follow up with another strike. But he¡¯s clearly well into foundation, and cleaned a good chunk of his meridians or possesses a monstrous amount of Qi for the kind of boosting he¡¯s presenting right now.

    She¡¯s vindicated by her choice as not even a split second later he is in front of her, throwing another punch that she manages to block. This time tensing her muscles at the right time to prevent the blow from bowling her over. He sends out a jab that rocks her head back, but she still manages to dodge the hook that follows.

    He starts speeding up.

    At specific moments that tell her where a blow will land he slows down, but otherwise he is a storm of fists and feet. Mostly she doesn¡¯t manage to block. She falls to the floor after the flurry.

    She debates staying down but¡­nah she has an image to maintain, and the sects honour and all that other crap. It¡¯s a shame he wasn¡¯t a local disciple, then she could have given up at this point.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Truly a shame.

    She staggers back to her feet .

    The boy smiles wide, hands on his hips, ¡°You have proved me right! Your dedication is beyond even my expectations! Tell me, how long have you journeyed the path?¡±

    Tantra spits out some blood, ¡°four months,¡± she says with a slur.

    Oh, that¡¯s definitely not good.

    The boy claps his hands together, ¡°Fabulous, stupendous, glorious!.¡±

    He seems genuinely awed at her. What a weirdo.

    ¡°My name is Soma Tellran,¡± He says with a bow, ¡°may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?¡±

    Tantra blinks, ¡°Tantra Sol,¡± she says.

    ¡°Wonderful, wonderful, I look forward to seeing your performance in the tournament.¡± Then he turns around and walks away, a crowd of people following him as he leaves.

    Tantra just stares at the retreating figure before vomiting on the floor.

    Someone rubs her back.

    ¡°Merciless cunt,¡± Etra says, ¡°How are you even supposed to perform after the beating he gave you?.¡±

    ¡°Good question.¡± Tantra slurs, ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in a moment, once the world stops spinning¡±

    Etra sighs, ¡°C¡¯mon, I¡¯ll carry you home.¡±

    -

    At the peak of Mount Ghoma there sits a man.

    Simple robes of light blue adorn a lightly muscled frame, a red sash wrapped around his waist. His skin is as pale as the surrounding snow. Locks of black flow down his back and pool around him in waves. He doesn¡¯t sport any facial hair, preferring a clean visage in the presence of company, no matter how rare the occasion. It fascinates him that people would trek up to his little corner of the world, there is nothing to be gained here other than perhaps pleasant conversation, and a few made the journey with that expectation.

    They climbed here for the express purpose of his company.

    Truly the madness of humanity knows no bounds.

    There are even those who hiked Ghoma twice, and one Ghomak Yortide who¡¯s climbed five times. Rambunctious fellow, also likely insane, still it''s a nice break from his routine. Most of his time he spends meditating. The practice has long lost its original purpose, but it is¡­soothing. Breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold, repeat. It''s a cycle, like the seasons, like life and death, inevitable.

    Hmmm, well, not for him.

    Analogy works for most though.

    There are a few cities between the mountains surrounding Ghoma, none have yet to make it here but they are close enough where he can see the movements of life, like a tide of bodies between structures of wood and stone. They¡¯re relatively new additions, he¡¯s considered visiting but¡­no, better that he sits on his mountain, getting involved with worldly affairs has a tendency to end badly.

    He¡¯d be lying if he said he wasn¡¯t lonely, but that''s the price and he¡¯s already paid, so might as well persevere. There isn¡¯t much to do besides meditation, he¡¯s attempted ice sculpting, unfortunately he isn¡¯t exactly artistically gifted so they don¡¯t turn out all that great, but it''s something to do, and it''s a nice soundboard for when he feels like echoing out ideas. There is one sculpture, a sparrow, that he is particularly proud of, capturing the moment just before it soars through the sky.

    He¡¯s gone down the mountain a few times, making himself a toboggan and rushing down in a perfect lotus stance, he likes fighting with the wind as it whips through his hair and tries to break his posture, futile, but fun.

    The climb up is also grounding, which, concerningly, he finds he needs more and more as time passes. It''s hard not to view himself as something grand, even though many experiences he¡¯s had before the mountain is a testament to the contrary. The act of climbing has a tendency to produce thoughts. Mostly about those who depended on him, those he failed, before the mountain.Whenever he feels like he¡¯s become a bit too overconfident, a tad arrogant, he goes down the mountain. The climb usually corrects such foolishness.

    He¡¯s stopped counting the years, maintaining a calendar loses its purpose so far from civilised life. Still, he knows it''s been long enough where anyone who knew his name is long dead.

    Hmmm, no, he doesn''t like that thought.

    Unto something else then.

    The cities are separate entities, he knows this because they often war with one another, between beast tides. Not too long ago the carved city and the city of the glowing tower fielded a few thousand each and saturated the ground between them in the blood of their people. He wonders how they can maintain the violence, surely their populations cannot be so high that they can wage war so wantonly?

    He wonders why they don¡¯t stand together against the horrors of the world, there¡¯s so much blood to spill besides that of your fellow man. Yet they war and die to one another''s blades. There''s probably some profound truth there, something about the human condition, but he can¡¯t be bothered to find it, if they want to kill each other they can go ahead, it doesn¡¯t concern him.

    It will never concern him

 Ch.16:First round

    Light hurts, so does noise, and just about every part of her body.

    The honourable Soma really doesn¡¯t understand the definition of mercy. She at least took the opportunity to circulate her Qi, even if it won¡¯t do much it will make her tougher, slightly, and she¡¯ll salvage whatever she can after that fight. She never thought she could find a fight humiliating, but having a whole crowd watch as you get absolutely manhandled has a way of defying expectations.

    For the first time ever she finds herself with a strange conviction, she wants to beat him up, she wants to beat him up bad. But that would require her to get much stronger than just establishing her foundations, which isn¡¯t the goal. But a not insignificant part of her can¡¯t forget the derisive sneers of the River¡¯s Scale as she kept trying to get back up. She did the cultivatory thing, why did they look at her like that? It¡¯s¡­humiliating, and she just found out that she really doesn¡¯t like to be humiliated. Which is honestly kind of pathetic, a good merchant doesn¡¯t act on emotions, they act on what makes the most coin. Letting her indignation drive her to actually consider getting stronger to face a boy who¡¯ll likely advance far past where he is now is pathetic.

    She¡¯s actually starting to sound like a cultivator.

    She shudders.

    ¡°I¡¯ve had your fight moved to the end of the week.¡± Toka says, ¡°on account of your injuries.¡±

    Tantra lets out a sigh of relief, that was something that was worrying her, she doesn¡¯t want to just give up. She has to maintain an image, despite being as weak as she is. So long as she looks dedicated to the path, they won¡¯t kick her out. Then again, they haven¡¯t kicked anyone out in the last four months, so it might be a moot point.

    ¡°Gods bless your heart honourable healer Toka,¡± she says.

    Toka just chuckles ¡°don¡¯t invoke the gods on me, I very much don¡¯t want their attention.¡±

    Tantra looks at her confused, ¡°don¡¯t all cultivators seek the acknowledgment of the gods?¡±

    ¡°The insane ones do,¡± Toka says, ¡°which is unfortunately the majority, I just want to heal people, leave the cosmic bullshit where it belongs, which is nowhere on Testhim.¡±

    Tantra actually finds herself smiling, a cultivator who sees cultivation as a tool rather than the goal? That¡¯s a refreshing change of pace. Whenever she talks about cultivation with anyone it always sounds like they¡¯re happy to condemn themselves to a lifetime of pain to reach immortality.

    ¡°We¡¯re of the same mind then,¡± Tantra says, ¡°truly you are wise beyond your years healer Toka.¡±

    Toka raises a brow, ¡°I don¡¯t know if you''re complimenting me or yourself right now.¡±

    ¡°Why not both?¡± Tantra chirps.

    Toka chuckles and waves her away, ¡°off you go little bean, I have other patients that need healing.¡±

    -

    Three threads, it¡¯s magnitudes harder than two, taking a significant amount of willpower to keep them all stable. But the results are worth it, she tested her circulation speed and after only one session she was able to complete a cycle in perhaps fifteen minutes, rather than twenty. Meaning she should only take a few hours instead of all day once her Qi stone runs out, and it will run out. Soon actually, it¡¯s been two months since she got the thing, and a generous estimate would have put it at three, but Qi can¡¯t be measured, not in the conventional sense at least. It¡¯s all about feeling rather than precise numbers, and while commercial Qi stones don¡¯t have a large margin of error, it¡¯s still there. If she¡¯s lucky it¡¯ll last longer than the expected three months, she doesn¡¯t like to base her decisions on luck though, so instead she ramps up the training in anticipation.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    She has no way to get merits after all, and she is not going to do well in the tournament so that¡¯s a moot point. Her only option is to increase her control so she wraps the three threads together at a pace that makes a snail seem like a professional athlete and holds her grip on the Qi as best she can.

    -

    Yorin puts on a wide smile as he enters the centre of the field, his opponent is almost as tall as him, and built like solid stone, he walks into the field with clear confidence in his steps. First match and it already looks like a tough one, how exciting! Yorin stops at the centre and enters his stance, his opponent does not do the same.

    ¡°Feel free to surrender and save everyone the time.¡± He says, ¡°I can already tell this¡¯ll be a boring fight.¡±

    Yorin frowns, that¡¯s a bit rude. He was just getting riled up and the guy had to hit him with that? Whatever happened to just having fun?

    ¡°I have a friend,¡± Yorin says, ¡°She¡¯s smart, knows a lot of fancy words, taught me a few of them even. So I know there''s a word for what you''re trying to do right now, a pair of words actually. Psycho-something warfare, all about the brain, trying to rattle my thoughts, make me unbalanced. I don¡¯t appreciate the cowardice.¡±

    The boy turns red in the face, ¡°fine,¡± he says.

    Then he rushes to Yorin.

    He¡¯s fast, but not so fast that Yorin can¡¯t track him, and certainly not fast enough where he can¡¯t respond. Yorin throws out a jab which hits the boy straight on the nose, but it¡¯s not enough to stop his charge. The boy brings up his arm and throws it at Yorins face, there¡¯s not much technique, and least not that he can recognize. Just brute force and strength, Yorin blocks it by tucking his chin and raising his arm to cover his face. For a split second when the blow hits, Yorin blacks out, then he regains his focus just fast enough to dodge an elbow to the face.

    What was that? Yorin thinks as he barely diverts a cross to this sternum, not now, focus on the fight.

    His left arm swings and hits the boy in the head, but again he doesn¡¯t relent. But Yorin¡¯s started to notice something, he¡¯s not dodging or blocking, just throwing strikes as fast and hard as he can. Yorin dodges a few blows and his elbow meets the boy''s temple, again nothing happens and he continues his flurry that Yorin barely manages to block.

    How is this possible? His strikes aren¡¯t weak but no one before foundation should be this durable, or strong.

    Yorin weathers a storm of punches and kicks as he struggles to block. Each blow feels like it rocks his whole body, and the bones of his limbs are starting to grow tired from the abuse. But the boy¡¯s getting slower, and Yorin¡¯s finding more and more openings. It¡¯s a dance that Yorin navigates masterfully, dodging and blocking as he delivers his own strikes to the immovable titan. Then, as things tend to, something goes wrong.

    Yorin goes to dodge a jab that doesn¡¯t come, and in his moment of confusion he is struck directly in the face with the full force of an overhand.

    Blood spurts from his nose and he sees stars, he doesn¡¯t recover fast enough to avoid the ensuing storm of blows. His world is turned to pain as the boy strikes him relentlessly, almost desperate. He can feel parts of his face crack as the hits just keep coming.

    But he doesn¡¯t fall.

    There isn¡¯t really anything resembling a thought in his brain right now, all those were thoroughly beaten like an anvil, but he knows one thing. He cannot fall, or else he won¡¯t get back up, and that is not a good thing. So he stays standing, and there is just a moment of clarity in the fugue, like a star in the night sky, it shines ever so bright.

    He sees the fist coming for his face as though time decided to take a sabbatical. It¡¯s right there, four knuckles and a promise of pain. Yorin sees it, he considers it. This will be the blow that takes his consciousness, like the wind to the leaves of autumn.

    Right at the start of the tournament too.

    First round.

    Fuck that.

    He headbutts the fist right in the knuckles and hears a satisfying crunch as it is pulled back maimed and mangled. The boy looks stunned at him, then at his hand, then back at him. Yorin smiles.

    The boy, seemingly impressed, smiles back.

    Then he vomits a torrent blood.

 Ch.17:Soundboard For My Thoughts?

    There was a lot of cheering after Yorins match. Both sects seeming to approve of the display of two children beating each other half to death, Tantra doesn¡¯t think she¡¯ll ever be qualified to understand the thoughts of cultivators. All she¡¯s capable of doing after watching that is to pace in front of the medicine hall waiting for Yorin.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s fine, honourable Tantra.¡± Kisrin says, ¡°He won after all.¡±

    ¡°He passed out on his feet, you don¡¯t do that if you¡¯re fine.¡± Tantra retorts

    Kisrin shrugs, ¡°It¡¯s very cultivatory though, I think I caught approval from Master Jorin¡¯s gaze as they were taking away Yorin.¡±

    Tantra huffs, ¡°massive brain damage doesn¡¯t care about how ¡®cultivatory¡¯ you are honourable Kisrin.¡±

    Kisrin raises a brow, ¡°forgiveness, but are you really one to talk. Not even a week ago you fought a cultivator in purification, and wouldn¡¯t stay down.¡±

    ¡°That was just to maintain an image.¡± Tantra defends, ¡°not because of anything so banal as a cultivators spirit.¡±

    Kisrin scoffs and takes a bite out of his apple, ¡°well you certainly maintained something, from how the others in the Serpent¡¯s Fang are talking about you, you¡¯d think you were the second coming of Talium himself.¡±

    ¡°I intended for no such thing,¡± Tantra blushes, ¡°I simply didn¡¯t want to be seen as a coward.¡±

    Kisrin shrugs and continues with his apple, giving her a rather telling look of skepticism. She ignores him to the best of her ability. What, does he think she¡¯s secretly actually trying to be a cultivator? Preposterous!

    -

    Etra checks a kick rather easily, feeling the reverberations of force as it travels through her leg.

    This is boring.

    She strikes out a jab stopping just before it would hit her opponent and pulling back. He turns red with fury as he continues to try and break her guard unsuccessfully. A cross here, an uppercut there, even a spinning backfist. He tries a few kicks but those are about as successful as the punches. This kid doesn¡¯t even understand the basics of combat, trying all his big flashy moves before any proper set up, just hoping the very telegraphed strikes hit their mark.

    Even Tantra understands the need for simple hits, and that¡¯s saying a lot.

    She wonders who, exactly, taught him how to fight, because they failed him spectacularly. He tries a flying knee that Etra just sidesteps, letting out an involuntary yawn. The boy''s temper flares.

    ¡°Fight me!¡± he yells.

    ¡°Are we fighting?¡± Etra tilts her head. ¡°Because this doesn¡¯t feel like fighting, it feels like the tantrum of a child.¡±

    The boy bellows and charges her, and she honestly couldn¡¯t care less about what comes next because she rocked him with a blow to his temple as he was winding up a kick, disorienting him enough for her to put him in a rear naked choke.

    He flails, but eventually goes limp as his consciousness leaves him.

    The crowd doesn¡¯t exactly seem pleased with her, playing with your food is frowned upon fairly heavily.

    But she doesn¡¯t particularly care.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    If he didn¡¯t want to get humiliated he shouldn¡¯t have been so shit.

    -

    Karaz,

    There it is, written in plain english, surrounded by so many other names. It took her a while to muster the courage to come here. To acknowledge what has become her new reality. She thought she¡¯d feel something like catharsis, or anger. Instead she just feels sad.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she says to nobody, ¡°It¡¯s been a while hasn¡¯t it? Sorry for not visiting sooner, Ranya just¡­couldn¡¯t.¡±

    She sits down on the dirt and hugs her knees, ¡°It hurts for you to be gone. Hurts in a way Ranya can¡¯t describe.¡±

    The leaves rustle to the autumn wind, it¡¯s a little chilly but that''s okay. She stopped caring about such things a while ago. She sits in front of the stone and takes a deep breath.

    ¡°Ranya knows who it was,¡± she says, ¡°call themselves the Rakkaja clan, it didn¡¯t take long to find out, they¡¯re pretty common around the Darkwoods and the Boreal Pass.¡±

    She clenches her fists and squeezes her knees to her chest.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Karaz,¡± she whispers, ¡°Ranya won¡¯t do anything crazy, but¡­she has to kill at least a few. She owes you that much.¡±

    -

    The thing she misses the most about merchant life is her family, second most is the food. She remembers the variety of meats and fruits that would grace her tongue daily. The delectable noodles and well seasoned rice. Whenever her birthday came around the harem would hold a celebration to commemorate the year, it was always a grand thing, a festival event. She remembers the joyous smiles and heartfelt congratulations.

    It is only now that she realizes they never did the same for any of the harem, as she stares at the ceiling, sweetroll balanced on her stomach.

    It took only three merits, enough that she isn¡¯t worried about her remaining balance, a little treat for a day that used to be so very loud. Now it¡¯s just her, all alone in a place she never wanted to be but¡­she has to admit, she¡¯s starting to like it here. Not for the cultivation, but for the people. She has real connections with people in her age group now, not the silly ones that precipitated tea parties and practiced words. She hated those, if she were being completely honest.

    She wonders if this is how the harem spent their birthdays, staring at the ceiling and just contemplating life. Ranya is no fool, she knows many of them didn¡¯t want to be there, used as a piece in a game of politics they have no say in. If her father hadn¡¯t favoured her then maybe she would be the same.

    An altogether worse fate than being a cultivator.

    To have no say in your future? That feels¡­wrong.

    The librarians words come back to her then.

    ¡®Do you think the peasant chooses to be a farmer, or the soldier chooses to fight for his liege?¡¯

    She never really gave credence to those words, but now that she really thinks about it she finds it kind of horrifying. Their only choice is to continue with their meager lives or try and break the cycle of ancestral legacy and become a cultivator. She¡¯s starting to see why so many people find this path attractive.

    But she would have been happy as a merchant.

    Happier than she would be as a cultivator?

    She doesn¡¯t know. She¡¯s never really considered it, considering the connection to her soul.

    Tantra takes a bite out of her sweet roll.

    Hmmmm, unbalanced.

    -

    There are five corpses hanging off a tree, they are naked and beaten to the point of barely being considered human, there is a gaping hole where each ones heart should be.

    ¡°You know I have this theory.¡± The woman says as she paces back and forth, ¡°I think the gods made cultivation. I know, I know, why would they make the means to defy them? But think about it, really take a moment. No cultivator is strong enough to truly defy the divine, all playing at strength in their little playground. No, I think they use it to raise us, like how a farmer might raise cattle. Do you follow?¡±

    The corpses say nothing.

    ¡°Of course, of course. Ever so smart you are, it could indeed be that cultivation was just a happy accident, or the imperfect tool of a man with the desire for change, but that just seems too convenient. Why is there a means to break the laws of reality in the heart of every soul? Animal, insect, and man. It seems ridiculous when you really think about it, tell me, are you thinking?¡±

    The corpses swing side to side.

    ¡°That is a marvelous idea! Thank you ever so much my friends, how would I ever sort out all the thoughts in this little head of mine if it weren¡¯t for you pretty little things? You¡¯re ever so helpful as you are now than before, making up for all that annoying screaming hmmm?¡±

    A bug lands on the eye of one of the bodies.

    ¡°Well you have my gratitude, now I think I know what I¡¯ll do next, yes, yes I do. I think I¡¯ll visit your home little puppets, see who''s got those strings all wrapped around those limbs of yours and show them why we are things to be feared and not to be hunted. Oh it¡¯ll be ever so fun! Imagine it, me coming for tea, sharing rice, and ripping out hearts! Such fun, such fun indeed.¡±

 Ch.18:Then Dont?

    A week isn¡¯t really enough to recover from the beating she received, but blunt force trauma isn¡¯t really considered all that noteworthy for the sect. She could just not show up, but, well, image. So it is that she walks to the centre of the field facing a girl who, frankly, looks terribly smug. Tantra might feel offended, if she had an ounce of cultivators pride. The crowd gathers in anticipation, as they always do when a match starts. It¡¯s starting to get old, there¡¯s been almost fifty matches a day for the past week, how do they stop themselves from getting bored? Ah well, cultivators, that can just about explain any deviation from normal human behaviour.

    ¡°To think I¡¯d be fighting you,¡± the girl says, ¡°truly the gods have deigned to bless this humble disciple¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°do I know you?¡±

    ¡°of course not, little harlot.¡± she sneers, ¡°but I know you. Feel free to grovel for forgiveness¡±

    ¡°Apologies, honourable rival, but forgiveness for what?¡±

    The girl scoffs, ¡°surely you cannot think me such a fool to believe this little act of yours?¡±

    Tantra is thoroughly confused, is this girl high? She must be high. There are plenty of Rolsam flowers in the DarkWoods, though they¡¯re much deeper in, maybe she buys them from her sect''s merit hall. A bit of a waste but she¡¯s not one to judge, or care.

    ¡°It¡¯s no act,¡± Tantra says, getting into her stance, ¡°but I feel as though you won¡¯t believe me.¡±

    ¡°So there is some wisdom in that head,¡± She says getting into her own, ¡°shame I¡¯ll be beating it out of that brain in just a few moments.¡±

    Tantra decides that maybe she should be more proactive in fights and rushes forward. Also she¡¯s kind of done with the banter. She sets herself up with a jab that is pushed aside and countered with a hook, Tantra ducks and brings her fist up in an uppercut. The girl dodges and then jabs her in the face, Tantra barely blocks the following cross coming for her sternum and crosses her legs before bringing her right into a crescent kick that hits the girl in the side of the head. She staggers and Tantra takes advantage with a roundhouse to the side followed by-

    Suddenly a fist is digging into her stomach and Tantra doubles over. It was too fast to see, let alone react to. The girl grunts as she brings her elbow down on the back of Tantra''s head, bringing her to the ground. Tantra groans as she is kicked in the side.

    ¡°What?¡± the girl coughs out blood, ¡°not going to get back up?¡±

    Tantra goes to do exactly that but she is kicked in the side and brought back down to the floor.

    ¡°Come on,¡± the girl taunts, ¡°where¡¯s all that fire?¡±

    Tantra goes to get up again and is kicked down, again.

    ¡°It¡¯s a shame really,¡± the girl says, ¡°every now and then someone comes along who doesn¡¯t know their place, no need to worry though, I¡¯m a very thorough teacher.¡±

    Okay, fuck this bitch.

    The next kick that goes for her side Tantra catches and as her hand screams in agony. She squeezes. She can feel the girl''s ankle breaking under the pressure, and her own forearm tearing apart in front of her eyes.

    The girl screams.

    Tantra pulls and trips the girl, getting her down to her level. Then she straddles her and starts raining down punches with her left hand. The girl weathers the storm admirably, but with a broken ankle she can¡¯t get the proper leverage to throw Tantra off, trying desperately to trade blows from her disadvantaged position. Tantra coughs blood in her face and continues her barrage.

    Then the girl grabs her right arm and squeezes. Tantra screams as the girl takes this as an opportunity to start punching her in the face. Tantra growls and grabs the girls hand, digging nails into skin, trying to loosen her grip. It doesn¡¯t work as she continues to squeeze Tantra¡¯s very vulnerable hand. Tantra screams and then, likely due to the brain damage, comes down and headbuts the girl in the face.

    It works, the girl lets go of her hand and Tantra comes down for another blow. This time the girl is ready, blocking then pulling her in, she takes one hand and  pulls on Tantra¡¯s hair while her other arm starts elbowing her in the temple.

    One,

    Two,

    Thr-

    -

    ¡°Papa!¡± Tantra yells as she jumps into her fathers arms.

    ¡°Ahh, there¡¯s my little jewel,¡± he says as he squeeze her tight, ¡°truly you are a sight for sore eyes¡±

    A slight smile graces her fathers weathered face.

    ¡°Father,¡± a man says from behind Tantra, ¡°Did the journey prove successful?¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

    Tokar Sol gently places down his daughter, Tantra pouts and her father chuckles.

    ¡°Now now Tantra, you know business always comes first,¡± Tokar says.

    ¡°But you¡¯ve been gone for soooooo long,¡± Tantra whines.

    ¡°And what a journey it was!¡± Her father laughs. ¡°If only the world were safer, then I could take you along to witness all its wonders.¡±

    The man coughs into his hand.

    Tokar looks sheepishly at him, ¡°apologies Dozen, I tend to lose myself around this little devil.¡±

    ¡°Devil! I¡¯m an angel!¡±

    Dozen puts on a bemused smile, ¡°She does have that tendency.¡±

    Her father laughs, ¡°Indeed she does, indeed she does.¡±.

    -

    Tantra wakes to a familiar brown ceiling while laying on a familiar grey cot.

    She can tell she isn¡¯t dreaming, after all, dreams don¡¯t hurt so much. The bone''s right arm, from the tips of her fingers to the end of her elbow feel as though they¡¯ve been ground down to a fine dust and her muscles put through magma. She¡­probably used too much Qi. Still, she broke that bitch¡¯s ankle meaning she¡¯ll either have to forfeit her next match or fight with one leg. Personally Tantra would forfeit, but you can never tell with disciples, most of them have tremendous brain damage after all. Her too, but that¡¯ll sort itself out once she¡¯s done with her foundations, which should be anywhere from ten to twenty years from now. Fuck that¡¯s a long time to maintain the same agonizing routine, cultivators do this for lifetimes? How? Do they just secretly hate themselves? Or are they really just masochists?

    Even immortals keep training after they¡¯ve reached what is essentially the goal, at least according to all the books about them, and if Tantra chooses to stick with this life, that¡¯ll be what awaits her.

    She shivers, no, absolutely not.

    The door to her room opens to a creak, and while she expects to see Toka instead she finds the librarian. Caramel skin glistening as he looks out the window of her room with¡­are his eyes literally twinkling, oh this can¡¯t be good.

    ¡°Tantra!¡± he says with a wide smile as he turns to her, which is horrifying, ¡°congratulations!¡±

    ¡°Forgiveness master, but for what? I lost the fight.¡± she says carefully.

    ¡°Oh it¡¯s nothing so banal as that, you got the attention of Jorin! And Korosona. Which means that I can officially give you this!¡± He says as he hands a white leather journal to her. She just stares perplexed at it, then back at the librarian, she decides to ask the obvious question first.

    ¡°What is it?¡± She asks.

    ¡°Oh it¡¯s nothing much, just a manual on how to advance through foundations quicker,¡± he says smugly, ¡°It¡¯s rare that one so young got approval, rarer still for two¡±

    Tantra blinks, ¡°what do you mean master? Isn¡¯t there only one way to progress to foundations?¡±

    He waves her off, ¡°that¡¯s what we tell everyone so they don¡¯t commit accidental suicide, but each sect has their own secrets, and this is one of ours. Don¡¯t show it to anyone.¡±

    Tantra blinks some more because what?

    ¡°What do you mean accidental suicide? ¡±

    ¡°Connect the dots girl, aren¡¯t you supposed to be smart? Nevermind just read the book.¡±

    Tantra is overwhelmed by the cheery disposition of the usually grumpy librarian. Why is he so happy? Did he advance while no one was looking? She decides to shelve that as ¡®cultivator weirdness¡¯ and grabs the book.

    ¡°Uhm, thank you master?¡±

    ¡°No need, no need. Hurry and open it child.¡±

    Tantra does as she says and turns to the first page.

    The Serpent¡¯s blood infusion technique.

    What she proceeds to read is, in fact, a very colourful way to commit suicide.

    ¡°Master¡­how am I supposed to boost my heart with Qi without dying?¡±

    ¡°Keep reading girl, keep reading.¡± and so she does.

    In the heart there are four chambers where blood pools before¡­

    Tantra reads, amazed, the amount of control this would-

    Oh.

    ¡°Did you plan this?¡± she asks the man accusingly.

    ¡°Now now, is that any way to speak to your patron? I may or may not have moved some pieces on the board, but what does it matter? It¡¯s a pretty good deal for you all told.¡± He says

    Tantra squints at him, nothing is free.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± she asks slowly.

    He gives her a sad smile at that, ¡°would it be so surprising if I just wanted to see someone disadvantaged rise to greatness? We always read those stories, but rarely do we get to see their beginnings.¡±

    ¡°You think I can become an immortal?¡± she says, in utter disbelief.

    ¡°Why not?¡± he questions, ¡°your deficiencies will stop mattering once you anchor your soul, and you already display a drive that could take you to the end of the path. Even though it¡¯s for your family rather than cultivation.¡±

    ¡°How do you know I even have the ¡®drive¡¯ master, did you watch my every move?¡± She asks.

    ¡°You have no meridians in your arms.¡± He says simply.

    Tantra¡¯s never going to stop being confused, is she? ¡°So?¡± she asks.

    ¡°You have no idea how impressive it is to boost your arm with pure control, do you? Especially so early on in the book I gave you, have you already reached three threads?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± she says slowly.

    ¡°Oh you silly foolish girl, you have no idea how long that should take, I didn¡¯t expect you to get there until perhaps the end of the year.¡± He says

    She blinks at him, ¡°that¡¯s only four months away master, in the timeframe of a cultivator that¡¯s practically nothing.¡±

    He sighs, ¡°you really should give yourself some credit, I don¡¯t know if it''s dedication or talent, but you¡¯ve proven yourself. Why argue against it? Isn¡¯t that contrary to a merchant''s philosophy?¡±

    Tantra looks down, embarrassed, ¡°I¡¯m just not meant to be a cultivator.¡±

    ¡°And why not?¡±

    She huffs, ¡°I don¡¯t want to live my life dedicated to violence master.¡±

    He blinks, ¡°Then don¡¯t¡± he says simply.

 Ch.19:Boost

    She¡¯s never really considered it before, Tantra¡¯s always assumed that being a cultivator is to participate in a constant flow of violence. Practically the only way to make money as a cultivator is mercenary work or beast hunting. Or, If you¡¯re lucky, being a master in a sect, you could be an assistant, but people only do that for the continued support, not the financial benefits. But she doesn¡¯t need to make money like a cultivator, she could just be a merchant who cultivates, getting the best of both worlds. Most of a merchant''s life is on the road, she¡¯d have plenty of time to train, and plenty of coin to finance her endeavors.

    The only problem is her soul.

    But if this technique works that won¡¯t really matter.

    She has to get to four threads.

    She has to.

    The master librarian deemed it safe to give her this book at three, but she wants to be sure. What he¡¯s given her could be a death sentence, or the answer to her prayers. One year, that¡¯s how long it would take to reach foundation with this technique, one measly year. That¡¯s insane. Surely she could just try it out now? See if it actually works. She has yet to circulate after her beating, now would be a good time to test if it would be feasible. She takes a deep breath, it¡¯ll be okay, she¡¯ll be okay.

    The core is the metaphysical manifestation of the heart, so they end up overlapping in location, which makes this all the easier. She pulls on the smallest measurement of Qi she can manage, a few motes, not enough to make a thread. She brings it to where she can feel the hollow space of her heart. She¡¯s not sure if this is the right one, of the four there¡¯s apparently one that works the best, but all of them will do at the end of the day.

    She takes a breath.

    Then she boosts her blood.

    -

    The first thing she feels is pain, but then? Then she feels euphoria, from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. It¡¯s like a pleasant rest and a shot of adrenaline all at once. It enhances everything, like all her nerves are working on overdrive. Which unfortunately means that the pain in her right arm feels a lot worse, but that¡¯s okay, that¡¯s really okay. No, it''s great. It worked, it actually worked. She can feel the small amount of Qi she sent to her heart pool into muscles and bones and brain and everything.

    All at once.

    It¡¯s almost overwhelming.

    This is good, this is so good.

    A smile of pure bliss splits her face.

    -

    ¡°You have to do these exercises,¡± Tantra insists.

    Yorin groans, ¡°first you have me read, now you want to learn something actually useless? What¡¯ll be the point of it, half my main meridians are already cleansed.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not useless,¡± Tantra doubles down, ¡°It¡¯s the key to everything.¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°I already said, I can¡¯t tell you.¡±

    Yorin raises a brow, ¡°those elbows must¡¯ve done a real number on your head Tantra. Because you¡¯re not making any sense.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m with the buffoon on this one,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°while I''m already practicing the exercises, making it my main focus seems¡­foolish.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Tantra scowls at him.

    ¡°Not that you¡¯re a fool,¡± he backpedals hastily, ¡°on the contrary you''re quite intelligent, I just don¡¯t see the point of it. Maybe when we touch the dao, but that¡¯s so far away I might as well keep my focus on my foundations.¡±

    ¡°But this can help you get to your foundations so much faster!¡± Tantra whines.

    ¡°How?¡± he asks.

    Tantra snaps her mouth shut, she can¡¯t tell them, but she can try to nudge them in the right direction. Though that seems to be going poorly. She huffs, what happened to her bargaining skills? She used to be-

    An Idea pops into her mind.

    ¡°Oh Yorin~¡± she says sweetly.

    He squints at her, ¡°what?¡±

    ¡°If you do the exercises, we can go hunting for mongrels once the ban lifts.¡±

    He squints harder, perhaps letting an actual thought enter that brain of his. Tantra smiles, he took the bait marvelously, now she just has to reel in her catch.

    ¡°Imagine all the merits we could make.¡± She says casually, ¡°we might even be able to afford you a proper weapon.¡±

    Yorins eyes go wide like saucers, and he measures his next words carefully, ¡°ok, and all I have to do is the exercises?¡±

    Tantra nods, ¡°for at least three hours a day.¡±

    He nods and extends his hand surreptitiously, ¡°deal.¡±

    ¡°Deal¡± Tantra goes to shake his hand only for the caste to get in the way.

    Kisrin watches bemused as they both hastily switch arms.

    -

    Tantra is running hard, and she¡¯s enjoying it.

    If only for the anticipation to use her new technique. She knows she shouldn¡¯t, she really, really shouldn¡¯t. But she can¡¯t help herself, that small amount of Qi was intoxicating, it was like circulating a whole thread throughout her body all at once, and it absorbed instantly. So she runs and runs hoping to do something extremely reckless.

    Her sect''s disciples aren¡¯t the only ones on the field, the River¡¯s Scales are also here, running alongside them. There isn¡¯t exactly another place for them to cultivate, so they join their rivals. There¡¯s some ribbing between the joggers, but that¡¯s only expected. Sect rivals never get along, it would be a cardinal sin to suggest otherwise. Even if most of them could be classified as friendly rivalries.

    Eventually, she runs herself to exhaustion, and someone carries her off to the side to circulate. She smiles, crossing her, and slowly pulls a few motes of Qi, the same amount as before, and finds the hollow space.

    She boosts.

    A wave of ecstasy washes over her, finding every inch of her body and searing Qi into the cracks left through exhaustion. Slowly acclimating her body closer and closer to the point where Qi won¡¯t be something volatile. She brings a few more motes, more than before.

    She boosts.

    The satisfaction from a good meal, and the moment something stuck in the teeth is pulled free. She grabs even more motes.

    She boosts.

    The moment your head hits a cold pillow, and the feeling of regaining sensation in your limbs. She pulls a thread.

    She boosts-

    -

    Drip drip drip,

    Sap falls slowly into a wooden bucket as Rakia watches. DarkWoods Aspen is special you see, being so close to a foci, it is strong and can make a wonderful elixir with the right ingredients. Populosolone, a wonderful little concoction that boosts the soul! Sure it fucks the body pretty bad but whats that compared to a stronger soul? You could always just build your body back with a few years of training and circulating, it¡¯s more than a fair trade. All the surrounding sects are fools for banning its production. How much faster would their students advance if they had access to this wonderful sap?

    Ah well, that¡¯s not her problem, if they want to cap their own knees then all the better.

    ¡°Rakia ma¡¯am,¡± a man whose name she doesn¡¯t bother to remember says. Everyone dies so quickly it''s not really worth it, and she stopped caring a while ago. Yorisir and Umakar are the only ones that matter to her, likely the only ones that will ever matter. She turns to face the man.

    ¡°Yes?¡± She asks with a hint of annoyance, she was busy watching liquid gold!

    The man bows, ¡°the lads and ladies are eager and waiting for your signal.¡±

    Her smile is a vicious one, like the smile of a predator as it feeds on something still alive. Most predators don¡¯t do that, at least the ones capable of empathy, but every species has its sadists.

    Rakia doesn¡¯t really care if the label fits her quite snuggly.

    ¡°Good¡± She says, ¡°good, good, good. I¡¯ve been waiting ever so long.¡±

    She paces around the tree, ¡°how do you think we should start? Bombastic or quiet?¡±

    The man shrugs, ¡°I prefer going loud, let¡¯em see the blades coming and all that.¡±

    Rakia smiles, ¡°ah, a man after my own heart, yes, I think we¡¯ll do that¡±

 Ch.20:Give Me A Blade And Ill Give You Blood

    Only two months into his rotation and already he misses his home. His job is supposed to be corralling spirit beasts away from the sect. Simple, easy, and pays quite well. His family is on the richer side exactly because he is here, standing guard like a glorified scarecrow. It is not supposed to involve bandits, and indeed in the five decades he¡¯s worked this job there hasn¡¯t been a single one. Apparently the Rakkaja took offense to that. Now he has to deal with the odd bandit group or so, and stop pretentious brats from getting themselves killed. It helps that he¡¯s in foundation, only took him three decades, but the respect he¡¯s earned and the physic he sports is enough to resolve most issues.

    But not that first raid.

    That first raid was disastrous, every bandit was in purification, so many died and he was almost one of their number.The servants all live on the periphery of a clearing next to the mountain (creatively called Fang mountain) the sect calls home, meaning they took the brunt of the blow. A hundred and two, that¡¯s how many died of the servants number, the sect never announced it, nor did they earn a place on their fancy little memorial stones, but that¡¯s only to be expected. Cultivators don¡¯t care for mortals, that¡¯s just a fact of life. Although when the horns sounded he did expect some inner disciples to come down from the mountain, if only to protect the young ones. But apparently cultivators don¡¯t care much for each other either.

    He thinks that¡¯s a pretty sad way to live.

    But it¡¯s their choice at the end of the day, who is he to tell someone that could kill him barehanded how to live their life?

    He feels bad for the kids though, he can see the friendships that¡¯ll likely break given time. But surely not all of them are so consumed by the desire for immortality that they¡¯d forget the world around them? He can only hope. It would be a sad journey to travel alone.

    Ankar¡¯s thoughts are interrupted by the twang of a bowstring.

    -

    The horn,

    That¡¯s the second time in as many months that he¡¯s heard it. He walks away from the field, leaving his braids to trail the ground as children scramble home to grab their weapons. He looks on out into the distance to see the oncoming assault.

    Hmmmm,

    That¡¯s quite a few.

    He might actually have to try.

    -

    She runs, as fast as her legs can take her. She¡¯s carrying a babe in her arms, she won¡¯t let them take him. Not after they took her husband, she doesn¡¯t care if it¡¯s against sect rules to climb the mountain, but it is what she¡¯ll do to guarantee the survival of her child.

    Even if punishment might lead to her death.

    She has to keep him alive.

    -

    ¡°Ohhhh, a swing and a miss,¡± he says to the man with a truly mangled arm, ¡°You really need to work on your aim good man, it¡¯s fucking embarrasing, honestly.¡±

    The bandit grunts and charges him once more, howling a war cry as Rakan crushes his skull with a metal club the size of a person. Brain matter and gore splatter to the floor, and some of it on his robes.

    Gross.

    Rakan shoulders his club and grunts as an arrow bounces off his skull. Fucking annoying little things, he has a few sticking out of his torso and back, not being far enough along to where his flesh would be closer to stone. His bones though? Yeah, that¡¯s not going to work, although he¡¯s heard horrifying things about the new black powder contraptions, so who knows. Maybe there will come a day where mortal matches cultivator. Likely not but it¡¯s an entertaining thought.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Whose next?¡± he muses as he leisurely walks forward to the cowards making a shield wall around the archers. All the brave ones are dead, which means there¡¯s no more fun to be had, ah well, he¡¯ll make due with slaughtering a few fools.

    Just as he goes to raise his club, he feels something.

    A Qi signature, so subtle he almost missed it, but overwhelming in its density. He snaps his head to the side just fast enough to dodge a blade, it is a normal blade, but just a second before it would have struck him it is filled with liquid Qi and he can feel the air shift as something like an explosion follows it¡¯s passing.

    ¡°Good!¡± Smiles a woman with teeth like a predator, ¡°good, good, good. You¡¯ve been having quite the time with my men boy, hmmmm? A little rude don¡¯t you think? being so close to anchoring as you are. Perhaps the tiger should teach the cat some manners.¡±

    Rakan stabilises himself and takes a step back, club placed between them so as to provide some measure of protection.

    ¡°Forgive this one, honourable bandit. But this one has seen proper tigers, and you only qualify as an anorexic.¡±

    The woman laughs and it is the promise of the hunt, the growling of the belly, and the tearing of flesh all at once, ¡°Brave, so brave. I might keep you alive. To have my own fun, how do you scream I wonder?¡±

    Rakan goes to says something but in an instant she is gone, he covers his club to his back and infuses it with Qi so that it doesn¡¯t break. She cuts through half of it and pulls away, appearing in front of him, he barely dodges a slash to his midsection by jumping out of range.

    And this is his first mistake.

    Never jump in a fight, especially when your opponent is faster than you.

    A hand grips his throat and smashes him into the ground, cratering the earth beneath him.

    He is let go and left to his coughing fit as he rolls over and rises to his hands and knees.

    ¡°C¡¯mon¡± says the woman as she squats next to him, ¡°you can do better than that. Entertain me little disciple, i¡¯m much more fun when i¡¯m having fun. Besides, the longer you stall me, the more time you give to the munchkins.¡±

    Rakan grits his teeth and gets back up, swinging his club at the woman as she backs away with a titter. ¡°That¡¯s the spirit little cultivator, get up and fight! Face something you possibly can¡¯t beat with grit and determination! Fight and fight and fight, until your bones are ground to dust and your flesh is pulped to meat.¡±

    Rakan huffs out a laugh, ¡°you have an oddly cultivator like spirit for a lady in leather.¡±

    She shrugs, ¡°what can I say, the philosophy is attractive. All that violence and suffering, compounded into eternity? What¡¯s not to love?¡±

    ¡°I get it, you''re a sadistic cunt, can we get back to fighting now?¡± Rakan says.

    And that, ladies and gentlemen, was his second mistake.

    -

    Cultivation doesn¡¯t really have steps, any of the paths could be taken at any time, they''re simply organized into both practicality and feasibility. Theoretically a person could anchor their soul without having cleansed any of their meridians, your willpower would just need to surpass the gods themselves. Every single one of Mara¡¯s meridians are cleansed, from major to minor. Yet she can¡¯t anchor, it¡¯s right there, but she always falls short. It¡¯s why she left the Rusted Silver sect, thinking that a proper journey might give her the insight or strength to complete what she so deserves. She never thought she would end up in liege with bandits.

    But she doesn¡¯t really have much regrets, as she cuts through the servants of a truly pathetic sect. She can feel herself getting closer, with every attempt she understands why exactly she wasn¡¯t capable before. She was too soft, too sentimental for the walking bags of flesh that are mortals. She¡¯s working on correcting that as her blade bisects a man trying to hold her back from reaching his daughter.

    The girl scrambles and cries, saying something incomprehensible, perhaps accusations, perhaps pleas. It doesn¡¯t really matter.

    She brings her blade up.

    She brings her blade down.

    A clang echoes throughout the alley as a cutlass appears directly in the path of her blade. Mara finds a child with two voids for eyes staring up at her with a fury that makes Mara kind of confused. Beside her is a girl, who is perhaps in her mid-teens, holding onto the void child''s shoulder.

    ¡°Run,¡± The teen girl says to the child. The child cries out her thanks and runs away.

    Mara lets the girl scramble away, she is of no consequence after all. She stares at the two who got in her way instead.

    ¡°How did you do that?¡± She asks, amazed.

    ¡°None of your concern¡±, says the teen girl as they both disappear.

 Ch.21:Something Like Pain

    Soma laughs as he dances between blades and arrows.

    His world has narrowed to the pinpoint focus of violence, and it is wonderful. This is what it means to be a cultivator! He brings a khopesh down and splits a woman''s skull, his other blocks, hooks and pulls the blade out of a man¡¯s arms. The man has exactly half a second before Soma frees his guts to the open floor. His smile is wide as he dashes and lets dirt fly, and in just a moment three throats are torn open.

    He hasn¡¯t killed before, how could he have? All cooped up in his sect like some precious artifact, his fathers overprotectiveness blunting his potential. The tournaments are his only real reprieve, no one at the sect dares to truly challenge him, but the Serpent''s Fang and Hallow Bones care little for his status. There he can truly be tested, his value finally measured. But he could never in his wildest dreams had he thought he¡¯d be so blessed as to be caught in a bandit raid of such magnitude, his heart swells with joy as his blades wet with blood.

    Then something amazing happens.

    The next person he goes to strike blocks, and strikes back.

    His smile truly cannot get any wider as he begins to trade blows with the bandit.

    -

    There¡¯s so much screaming.

    He always hates that part, the screaming. Maybe he¡¯s gotten soft over the decades spent secluded from the horrors of the world. He stands at the centre of a group of writhing and screaming bandits. He doesn¡¯t move, doesn¡¯t have to, mortals haven¡¯t the capability to resist, and the pathetic excuse for cultivators that the bandits have brought aren¡¯t so far along as to be immune to his will. Normally he doesn¡¯t get involved when a beast tide, or in this case a bandit raid, occurs. That is to let the children grow, as much as it pains him. But the world won¡¯t be merciful, he knows this intimately, so he might as well expose them to suffering in a controlled setting. If he had his way, no child would need to know pain, the Elders call him sentimental, but honestly? He¡¯s just tired of all the violence, tired of all the theater, and tired of all the hollow convictions.

    A cultivator''s life is one of hypocrisy, not honor.

    A cultivator''s conviction is arrogance, not bravery.

    A cultivator¡¯s dedication is fame, not altruism.

    But there are good ones out there, Jorin is an example, so far along the journey and yet he stunts his own growth to teach unruly children. Korosona could apply herself to true alchemy halls and further her research, but instead she stays, providing salves for the medicine hall and concoctions for the merit hall. Vozen could explore the world to his heart''s content, scouring all nooks and all crannies, but instead he satisfies himself with the Darkwoods, the Boreal Pass, and the Roudune Peaks. Then there is his friend, a scholar, and perhaps a saint. His recent curiosity the reason Dorokan is on the centre of the field right now letting arrows ping off his skin and bandits writhe on the floor.

    He hears a groan.

    ¡°Finally awake girl?¡± Says chisel to bone, he doesn¡¯t really need to ask, he can feel the Qi of her core, and that one little meridian flare to a more active state. She just groans at him. ¡°You did something quite foolish, I would have thought from how the masters have described you that you¡¯d be more cautious, but I guess even wise men turn dumb at the taste of gold.¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    The girl responds with an apologetic groan.

    He huffs a laugh, ¡°don¡¯t worry yourself now, making foolish mistakes is part of being young, so long as you learn from them. I could regale to you all the tales of my misadventures, but i¡¯d rather save myself the embarrassment¡±

    She groans in understanding.

    ¡°Good lass.¡±

    -

    Yorin pushes his spear through the head of a bandit, just as master Jorin taught them. Off-hand to aim, main hand to trust. It escapes through the back of his skull, and Yorin has to kick him off to get control of his spear back. He¡¯s killed a few, well, more than a few. He even helped take down two foundation cultivators. In all the tales of cultivators there are tales of bandits and those who have lost their way from the path, they always end with a righteous cultivator cutting them down.

    He doesn¡¯t feel very righteous right now.

    He thrusts his spear through the chest of a woman, puncturing something or other.

    He doesn¡¯t know, he¡¯s never studied the body. Tantra says it¡¯s something called bio-logy. He doesn¡¯t get it honestly, why people make complicated words for simple things. Why not just call it body study? Or something. Now that he thinks about it that kinda sounds dumb. Maybe he should just leave the naming to all the smart people and accept it for what it is. Oh and Tantra¡¯s okay, well he doesn¡¯t really know if she is, she somehow knocked herself out circulating. But she''s as safe as she can be in the middle of a bandit raid, so he knows she won''t die from that at least, letting him participate in the defence without that on his conscious

    He thrusts his spear into the stomach of a boy not much older than him.

    He really needs to get a new weapon, the spear just doesn¡¯t suit him. He doesn¡¯t think he¡¯d be much of a swordsman either. Apparently Tantra¡¯s housemate that died used gauntlets and steel shins. He¡¯s pretty okay with fisticuffs so maybe that would work, but it just doesn¡¯t feel right. Feels like the easy answer to a monumental question. Well, he¡¯ll get to see his options once they get the merits. Which he''s quite looking forward to, finally hunting mongrels? Sure they might just be weak spirit beasts all grouped into one category, but they are spirit beasts. The purpose of a cultivator is to cull the beasts so the normal population can live safe and happy.

    He thrusts his spear

    -

    A punch cuts through the air and turns a skull into flying fragments and brain into separate morsels. A kick flies and there is the sound of crunching as bone escapes the confines of flesh. A hand reaches out and turns a man purple as it crushes the man''s throat. Jorin looks for his next target and finds mangled bodies and moaning bandits, he scoffs.

    He jumps and the ground is turned to a crater.

    He looks around at his home as he flies through the air, sees where his help is needed and where it is not. He¡¯ll have to go to Rakan, unfortunately, it seems the woman¡¯s stopped playing with him.

    He sighs and makes a platform of Qi, reality bending around the construct as he pushes off and crashes into a dozen bandits.

    ¡°What the fu-¡±

    a head is torn off and used as a club to bash in another. But he¡¯s not here to kill them, he turns his focus to the woman and dashes. One punch should do it, as it always does. She barely sees him coming with eyes wide, she tilts and leans back, every movement a compliment to efficiency, and dodges his punch by just an inch. She whips up her blade and leaves a small line on his torso.

    Hmmm, impressive, he never would have guessed one with tainted foundations could manage to dodge him.

    He goes to punch again and dodges just so before drawing another line. He grunts in frustration as the bandit woman proves to be surprisingly skilled. He strains his muscles with just a bit more Qi. It¡¯s reckless, foundation doesn¡¯t make you immune to boosting, it just means you won¡¯t get damaged. Exhaustion is a different matter. Some train in efficient spending, boosting and infusing only at the moment it is needed.

    Jorin doesn¡¯t believe in that philosophy, the fastest way to grow is through stress, so he boosts whenever he gets the chance.

    His fist flies just a little faster and surprises the woman as it drives itself through her guts and out the other side. He rips his hand out, letting guts fall to the ground, as the woman stares wide eyed at him. He goes to finish the job-

    A tremendous amount of Qi explodes from her and she disappears.

 Ch.22:Six Thousand Gold

    It¡¯s funny, isn¡¯t it?

    A mountain of the dead, all for one man''s foolish little dream. She knows it¡¯s not her fault, How could it be her fault? It was her father¡¯s coin that brought them here, not hers. It was her fathers choice, not hers. She would have invested that money into something useful, rather than spend it on a petty little dream. Why her? Her soul is so far from her core that it might as well not be there at all, and she has over two dozen other siblings to choose from, so why her? Does it really matter at this point? The only one who could answer that question is dead, along with so many others. It¡¯s hard not to feel guilt, even if it wasn¡¯t her fault, the reason she¡¯s here and the reason they¡¯re dead is the same reason.

    It has to be funny, because otherwise it would be sad.

    Tantra doesn¡¯t think she could handle the weight of sadness along with guilt, as she throws bodies into the pyre. The bandits were dumped into the forest left for rot and carrion, all the corpses they burn are either from disciples or servants. She never really considered the servants, they were always just a background piece, something to be ignored. It¡¯s hard to feel that way when she can see the expressions of the cold, cold corpses thrown into the fire. Some of them she didn¡¯t need help with, because they were the bodies of children. Some disciples, but some much younger. It is overwhelming, the amount of corpses that they burn.

    She doesn¡¯t understand, all this for six thousand gold coins?

    She understands greed, it¡¯s the vice of every merchant. But this? This is just wanton cruelty, a culling of the weak and innocent. Why didn¡¯t the Elders do anything? Just one of them was capable of immobilizing a whole crowd, without even lifting a finger. So why leave it to children? The masters participated, so what stops them? It¡¯s probably some stupid cultivator shit, like it always is.

    She lifts the corps of the bodies and recognizes the face.

    It¡¯s one of the people who kowtowed to Ranya.

    It shouldn¡¯t be surprising, of her cohort of twenty, only eight remain, including her. But it still tugs at a string in her heart to recognize what used to be a person, destined for the pyre.

    There¡¯s music playing, and solemn songs being sung. Normally Tantra likes the musical arts, but not now, not in this moment. There are too many corpses, too much burnt meat wafting into her nose, and too much crying for her to enjoy anything really. It just serves as a background piece to a somber day.

    All for six thousand gold.

    -

    ¡°We can¡¯t leave this unanswered,¡± the sound of chipped bone states, ¡°a little over two hundred disciples remain, and for what? Because we are unwilling to deal with this ourselves?¡±

    ¡°Oh, please¡± a whet stone on blade scoffs, ¡°It¡¯s only a few bandits, how do you expect them to grow into proper cultivators if we pamper them through the journey?¡±

    ¡°It is not just ¡®a few bandits¡¯, Dousou, one of them survived Jorin.¡±

    The hall quiets at that.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± the flowing of molten wax says, ¡°that is concerning, but it still doesn¡¯t precipitate our intervention.¡±

    ¡°There are a few of the inner disciples who need¡­encouragement on the journey¡± the sound of moss says.

    ¡°Not a bad idea,¡± says grinding stone as she rubs at her chin, ¡°how far along was the one who survived?¡±

    Dorokan sighs, ¡°Jorin says she couldn¡¯t have been far into integration¡±

    A woman nods and her voice comes out like a blade leaving its sheath, ¡°then a dozen or so of our more lacking inner disciples should be enough¡±

    ¡°Should be¡± the miasma grumbles.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Everyone quiets at his words. The man of purple skin and black eyes that carry stars sighs, ¡°have we grown so weak that we require a hammer to squash an ant? No, we will send no one, and the disciples will learn what it means to walk the path. But we do need to respond, lest the other sects think we have grown weak.¡± He rubs at his chin, ¡°put up a bounty, a hundred merits per bandit slain, the proper ones among them should feel the desire for vengeance in their bones. Then we can determine who among them are cowards.¡±

    Dorokan stares wide eyed at him and dares to speak, ¡°you would send them to their deaths?¡±

    An ocean of Qi blankets everyone in the room, delivering with it an intense smell of rot and decay. The purple man taps at his chair as the others struggle to maintain composure.

    ¡°I am sending the weak to either die or become strong, such is our way.¡± He says, ¡°but if you disagree, you are free to challenge me Dorokan¡±

    Dorokan bows deep to the man, ¡°apologies, I don¡¯t dare to question your wisdom, I simply worry for the children¡±

    The purple man''s face softens as he pulls back his Qi, ¡°a weakness you will likely never correct, old friend, and yet an endearing one nonetheless. I understand how you feel, I do, but we are not a place that simply houses children, we are a sect. We will act like one.¡±

    -

    Unsurprisingly, in the face of so much death and suffering, the tournament was unceremoniously canceled, with the River¡¯s Scales having to return to their sect with a not insignificant amount of disdain. They blame their dead on the Serpent¡¯s Fang, obviously. It was their sect that was attacked, and yet they had to participate in the defence, more than a few accusations of weakness was thrown, and her fellow disciples weathered the storm in shame.

    ¡°It¡¯s not fair,¡± Yorin pouts, ¡°It¡¯s not like we wanted them to attack.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an image problem,¡± Tantra says,

    Kisrin nods ¡°We are meant to defend our own territory, to get another sect wrapped up in our issues is dishonourable and shows great disrespect.¡±

    ¡°Disrespect?¡± Yorin asks, ¡°aren¡¯t cultivators all about finding the next challenge? How is it disrespectful for them to participate in it?¡±

    Kisrin shrugs, ¡°It just makes the sect look bad, don¡¯t ask me about the internal politics.¡±

    Yorin huffs, ¡°that¡¯s just stupid¡±

    ¡°So are most things involved with cultivators,¡± Tantra lets slip out.

    Kisrin contemplates her for a moment and sighs, ¡°indeed.¡±

    They sit in silence for a while, Yorin watches as servants clean the sect of blood and arrows, and for a moment there is peace, then it is broken.

    ¡°Tantan!¡± a child jumps onto her shoulders, ¡°Ranya has good news! Ranya has great news! Ranya has the best news!¡±

    Tantra grumbles as Ranya slaps her head multiple times.

    ¡°What is it Ranya?¡± Tantra says, ¡°we¡¯re kinda busy contemplating the attack.¡±

    ¡°Bounties!¡± Ranya chirps, ¡°the sect removed the ban and put bounties for the bandits!¡±

    Tantra looks up with a sharpness to her eyes, ¡°are you serious.¡±

    ¡°Yup!¡±

    ¡°Do they not realize how many will die?¡±

    ¡°It should be fine¡± Sola says, appearing from thin air and startling everyone but Ranya, ¡°so long as we go in big groups the bandits shouldn¡¯t stand a chance.¡±

    Tantra blinks, ¡°they have members in purification, and above if the rumors are to be believed.¡±

    Sola shrugs, ¡°So what? Numbers always triumph in the end, you all know a few fools right? We¡¯ll just gather them up and go hunting.¡±

    ¡°Forgiveness honourable senior,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°but who is ¡®we¡¯?¡±

    ¡°We are we!¡± Ranya shouts with exuberance, ¡°Tantan is coming so you are coming because you like Tantan, simple!¡±

    Tantra looks up with a raised brow, ¡°why is my presence a guarantee?¡±

    ¡°Because Ranya is a child and a fool.¡± Sola says, ¡°and she¡¯d do this on her own if no one goes with her.¡±

    -

    ¡°So that¡¯s about everything¡± Tantra says, ¡°you''re the only other disciple I interact with sooo¡­will you come?¡±

    Etra tilts her head, ¡°you''re going to go with a shattered arm?¡±

    Tantra looks down shamefaced, ¡°It is foolish, and I am a fool. I know this. But I cannot leave Ranya to die on an idiotic quest for vengeance, and if Yorin and Kisrin come, so will their housemates, and if they come, so will whoever they know. We could gather enough where we¡¯d be safe, for a given value of safe.¡±

    ¡°And you want me because of the people I might know,¡± Etra says.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Tantra nods, not even trying to deny it.

    Etra shrugs, ¡°well sucks to be you, I don¡¯t talk to anyone but you and Jaka, and he¡¯s just a name on a stone now.¡±

    Tantra deflates.

    ¡°But I¡¯m willing to come along.¡±

    Tantra looks up, surprised, ¡°really?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Etra shrugs, ¡°sounds interesting, and I¡¯m not above a little revenge¡±

    Her tone turns sharp at the end there, and Tantra gives her a pitying look.

    ¡°Still hurts?¡± She says.

    Etra nods, ¡°always.¡±

 Ch.23:Breathe Child, Breathe

    Almost two dozen disciples scour through the DarkWoods in silence, perhaps in another time, in other circumstances, there would be banter. But everyone present has lost someone, how could they not? A third of their number, gone. Now they¡¯re searching for bandits, not for the merits, there''s too many to split between for it to be worth it, but for blood. A group of children and some adolescents, traipsing through the woods in search of violence. The woods are quiet, as though in respect for their solemn pursuit.

    Tantra misses when things used to be fun. Sure there was the constant training, but at least it didn¡¯t come with an undertone of grief and rage. Again and again her brain reminds her that if she was never sent here, none of this would have happened. She tunes it out as she eyes the undergrowth. Normal forests don¡¯t have a lot of plant life once they grow this big, the trees acting as a barrier to sunlight, but the DarkWoods is the holder of a Foci, giving the plants and vegetation another source of life,So the deeper they go bushes, flowers, and fruits they find. Their deep enough to see how the trees benefit from this, growing thick instead and tall, some holding a diameter of two meters, and wrapped around a few are vines of black grapes. There used to be tribes that inhabited the branches, living in harmony with the forest and beasts, there still are a few, much deeper in the forest, but most of the periphery has been taken over by bandit groups. Using the Foci as a refuge from more dedicated pursuits to their annihilation.

    The bounty never specified which bandits they needed to hunt, but still they unanimously agreed to go after the Rakkaja, who inhabit most of the eastern forest, connecting to the Boreal Pass a few hundred kilometers north. Young master Hakan leads them through this vast place, he is short for his age, but still towers over Tantra, on his shoulder is a greatsword, she doesn¡¯t know the specific name, it¡¯s a big sword and it seems kinda impractical in the forest. There are rumors that Hakan is the cusp of anchoring, but those are just rumors, and Tantra knows how embellished those can get when the subject of conversation is someone of status.

    The young master tilts his head and she can hear Sola¡¯s voice whisper into his ear, he just nods and changes direction slightly to the right, rustling through the bushes, not even bothering with stealth.

    The rest follow him.

    They hear voices go quiet at their approach, and as they push through the foliage they are met with perhaps three dozen bandits, skinning the corpses of wolves the size of bears, all of them turn to look at the children, with¡­mostly confusion.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you a little far from home?¡± One of them says as he stops his cutting to regard them, ¡°This is Rakkaja territory, it¡¯d be best if you kids left.¡±

    ¡°We know where we are, bandit.¡± Hakan says, pushing his greatsword off his shoulder, ¡°you have attacked my people, we are here to return the favor.¡±

    The confusion among the bandits is palpable, ¡°did we attack the Serpent¡¯s Fang?¡± one asks another.

    They shrug, ¡°I did hear Rakia was gathering a few hundred, but I just assumed that was for a merchant caravan.¡±

    One of them scoffs, ¡°of course that madwoman would pick a fight with a sect, Koraz is not gonna be happy once he finds out.¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± Hakan says, ¡°draw your blades and meet your death.¡±

    ¡°Look kid,¡± one of them sighs, ¡°we didn¡¯t have anything to do with whatever happened down south, and we¡¯re not the type who enjoy the idea of killing kids. Although I have met a few who get off on that, but that''s besides the point. The point is that you all should leave, before you get hurt.¡±

    Hakan is silent, and so are the children as they draw a myriad of weapons.

    The bandit sighs, ¡°it¡¯s gonna be one of those days huh?¡± He gets up from his kneeling position and draws his blade, ¡°let it be known that under the gaze of the heavens and the gods, we offered you mercy.¡±

    Then he is gone.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    A clang echoes throughout the forest as Hakan blocks an overhead strike, kicking the bandit back and bisecting a second that thought it a good idea to sneak up on him. Guts fly and the world is turned to chaos as the children rush the leather clad adults with weapons and warcries.

    -

    Kisrin dashes between two bandits, keeping them busy with kitting tactics as Etra faces them head on and Tantra tries her best to help with her little dagger. It¡¯s pretty cute, how she pretends to not care about matters relating to cultivators, and yet here she is, hunting bandits just like the rest of them.

    He knows about her condition, took him a little while longer than most disciples, by the time he found out he¡¯d already started training her, someone spread the rumors like jam on bread. But it makes sense, when he really thinks about it, why else would she need a Qi stone? At first he thought it was a merchant''s vanity, but no, it was to supplement what her soul cannot provide. He hasn¡¯t told her that he knows, nor that most of the other disciples know as well, he doesn¡¯t really want to add that kind of stress on her shoulders.

    He knows she¡¯ll find out eventually, but it won¡¯t be from him.

    She gives a light stab with his spear that pierces through the thigh of a bandit, Etra taking advantage and driving the spear through his throat. The other bandit panics and charges Tantra.

    Kisrin panics, and jumps, pushing Qi into his legs and tearing muscle as he bolts forward like a comet. His spear drives itself into the man''s gambison, but doesn¡¯t pierce, pushing him down to the ground, Kisrin joins him as his legs lose their strength. He tries to get up but something pins him to the ground.

    He turns his head and finds a blade jammed into his shoulder, then he feels the pain, as it is torn out.

    -

    ¡°Kisrin!¡± Tantra yells as she charges the new addition, dagger raised high as she goes to stab the woman. Before she can, something cuts deep into her back sending her to her knees. The woman twirls her blade, staring into Tantra¡¯s eyes as she stabs Kisrin¡¯s other shoulder. The boy screams as someone pulls back her hair, puts their blade to her throat, and slices it open. She falls to the ground and paws at the new opening, gurgling blood as she chokes. Blood flows between her fingers, and she starts to cry.

    Is she going to die? She doesn¡¯t want to die.

    There has to be something, she thinks, as her oxygen deprived brain desperately tries to come up with a thought.

    Oxygen?

    Oxygen!

    In desperation she brings Qi to her lungs and begins to feed it Qi. It is not boosting, it is not circulating, it is an offering. It burns, causing her to gurgle out what should be a scream. Someone is at her side. Telling her something, but she can¡¯t hear anything. All her being is focused on survival, and through the pain, she can feel that she did something right. She brings more Qi whenever her vision starts to fade and lets the fire tear through her body. It sears through her being with a pain she can¡¯t comprehend. Not because it is overwhelming, but because it is confusing. Like a soothing full body migraine. Someone shakes her and she gurgles out blood in response, can¡¯t they see she¡¯s busy here? Honestly, she¡¯s going to have to teach whoever this is some manners once she surely survives.

    Surely.

    -

    The World speaks to him.

    It tells him stories.

    None of which are of the typical persuasion.

    Once it told him of a bug with many legs, eating through leaves and foliage, not a care in the world for what surrounds it. All that entered its mind was the desire for more, the desire to feed. The bug, eventually, once it was finally sated, wrapped itself in a cocoon, where it slumbered for weeks and weeks, until eventually¡­

    Once it told him of a wolf with sharp fangs, leading a pack of pups and juveniles, scouring the forest for its next meal. It understood companionship, it understood responsibility. It would be the first to starve in times of famine, and the last to eat in times of bounty. It¡¯s spawn spread throughout the forest, becoming the dominant species, and as it watched¡­

    Once it told him of a sky with two suns, in a world of death and pain. They crested horizons to reveal the ugliness that lay beneath, they had many names, the solar twins, Lakia and Laria, judgment¡¯s gaze. They were thought to have lasted forever¡­

    Once it told him of a dying man, abandoned by his gods on a battlefield of sorrow. He cursed them, and cursed himself, for all the sacrifices made in the name of a forgotten faith. He cried and cursed until he had no more tears to shed and his throat could no longer scream. It was guaranteed his death, and yet a thing not of this World noticed his plight¡­

    It tells him so many stories.

    He can barely contain it all in his little head.

    Now? Now it pries his eyes open and shows him the story of a boy.

 Ch.24:One Foot In Front Of The Other

    The songbirds sing their tunes and a quill scribbles through a scroll as the sun shines unto Tantra¡¯s form.

    She didn¡¯t get any sleep, couldn¡¯t really.

    She needs to keep pumping Qi into her lungs.

    Ranya was panicking on the way back, well, everyone she cares for was, but none were as dramatic as Ranya. She almost cut down the young master when he said that Tantra was a lost cause, it took Sola to calm her down and reason they should focus on getting to the medicine hall, not fighting amongst each other.

    Kisrin couldn¡¯t help carry her, for reasons she hopes is obvious.

    The journey back was uneventful, other than Ranya¡¯s incoherent babbling and Yorins constant reassurance. She gets it, she¡¯s dying, they¡¯re worried, but she¡¯s kinda busy with fighting off Roguth¡¯karrs. Distractions are not helpful.

    Sola acted as their scout, and led them safely back to the sect while Etra, Ranya, and Yorin carried her for hours. She¡¯s gonna have to pay them back once she¡¯s not riddled with the cold inferno besetting her body with every offering of Qi. She can¡¯t do this forever, and not just because she¡¯s running out of Qi. It¡¯s hurting more and more with every offering, they could feed her Qi stones indefinitely, but there¡¯ll come a point where she can¡¯t handle the strange pain.

    She pleads at the figure scribbling at a scroll with her eyes.

    Please, she thinks, let the healers work on me.

    He doesn¡¯t answer, continuing to observe and record.

    -

    Vozen is writing.

    There¡¯s so many intriguing fascinations hiding in the world, so many crevices to explore and treasures to find. Sometimes that treasure is a person. Like the girl laying in front of him right now, he can hardly believe what he¡¯s seeing, or feeling. The girl is doing something that should be impossible, she¡¯s turning her Qi to air, yet she has no mark of the dao on her soul. It¡¯s not a perfect transmutation, some of it remains as Qi, and he can see how it wreaks havoc across her body. It¡¯s not damaged, per say, she¡¯s not boosting. It looks a lot like Qi poisoning, turning her skin a sickly grey and making her eye¡¯s glow.

    Qi poisoning is so easy to avoid that most don¡¯t consider it a problem, you simply have to avoid the denser foci like the Devils Fissure, or the Hangman¡¯s Dunes. The only other way to get Qi poisoning is to trespass into a condensation array, in which case you are willingly choosing death. So yeah, it¡¯s a lot like Qi poisoning.

    Except it isn¡¯t

    Because Qi poisoning would just kill her, slow or fast. This is making her stronger. He can see her progress to foundation increase incrementally with each hour that passes. So far her cultivation rate is double the standard method of circulation, and she hasn¡¯t even exercised herself to exhaustion! How much faster would it be if applied and refined to proper training routines? This nobody girl may have just stumbled on a secret technique for all he knows; and that¡¯s the beauty of staying in a sect so far from civilization. Every decade or so a curiosity like this one emerges, breaking the conventionally understood rules of cultivation, often by complete accident.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    It is a wonder for his research on the mystic arts, even if he has to make a few sacrifices.

    -

    Tantra doesn¡¯t know how long it¡¯s been.

    But she knows the sun has set more than once, even if she isn¡¯t composed enough to properly count how many that is. She¡¯s gotten better at gathering Qi from the stones, considering she only has a few moments before her vision starts to fade, it¡¯s no real surprise. It¡¯s that or die. Just like the pain. Oh the pain.

    The cold flame burns through all that she is, finding every inch of her body and both soothing and burning. She¡¯s convinced that the only reason she can keep going is because it¡¯s not really pain, a part of it is sure, but another is relief. It¡¯s hard to describe, a good pain perhaps? No, that makes her sound like a masochist. A pain that is not pain? That just sounds needlessly philosophical, she¡¯s a merchant, not a scholar! Cold fire isn¡¯t accurate either because it¡¯s not really cold and it''s not really burning. More like if both were put into a mixture to create something new, and they complemented rather than eliminated each other. Which makes little to no sense.

    But it doesn¡¯t really matter if it makes sense or not, she just has to keep dribbling Qi into her lungs, just has to keep living.

    -

    ¡°Why aren¡¯t the healers seeing her?¡± Yorin demands, ¡°It¡¯s been days.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d do well to show respect to your betters boy,¡± Jorin grumbles, ¡°the elders have spoken, the girl''s survival is dependent on her and her alone.¡±

    ¡°Who cares? She could die!¡±

    Jorins face goes dark, ¡°aye, she could.¡±

    Yorin is just confused and flabbergasted, ¡°this isn¡¯t right. A sect is a cultivator''s home, their sanctuary. How could they choose not to heal one of their own? Tantra didn¡¯t do anything to deserve this kind of treatment¡±

    The bigger man measures the boy and lets out a long sigh, ¡°you are right,¡± he says, ¡°the rulings of the Elders can be cruel, but it is to better the sect. I¡¯m sure there is a reason they are withdrawing help.¡±

    ¡°But¡­but what about Tantra?¡± He says weakly.

    ¡°Like I said, her survival is dependent on her.¡±

    Yorin clenches both fists hard and Jorin sighs, he knows the reason, but telling the boy his friend may have found a secret technique would go against the whole ¡®secret¡¯ part. He doesn¡¯t like this, never does, it¡¯s always when someones on the brink of death that they discover something of the secrets of Qi, and always they are subjected to the same treatment.

    Some live, some die.

    In the eye¡¯s of the Elders, it is a worthy sacrifice.

    -

    One foot in front of the other.

    A simple idiom, representing how a journey is traveled by steps. One at a time. Cultivation is a lot like that, there are shortcuts, Tantra has found one, but it comes with its own risks. Cultivation is the eternal journey, no one has ever found it¡¯s end, and likely no one ever will. Each path is its own journey, containing so many steps. Cultivation is about perseverance, consistency, and diligence.

    One foot in front of the other.

    In a way, legacy could be considered the same, passing down your knowledge unto another so that they proceed to do the same. From one generation to the next, building. That¡¯s for an optimistic view though, it doesn¡¯t consider when a family falls, or when a child is forced to start from scratch. She¡¯s never really considered orphans before, weird that it would come to mind on her deathbed. Maybe that¡¯s a sign of some sort? Perhaps she¡¯s been too focused on herself to notice the plights of those around her.

    On the scale of bad shit that could happen, being forced into a sect isn¡¯t really all that high.

    One foot in front of the other.

    She wonders how the harem feels? They all have talents beyond pushing out babies, and yet that¡¯s all the public will ever think of them. She wonders how crushing it was to develop yourself so much into your passion, only to be sold by your own family. She wishes she could spend her last moments with the harem, they were her mothers, teachers, and closest friends.

    One foot in front of the other.

    Something shifts in her throat, and almost instinctively she takes a gigantic gulp of air, turns to her side, and starts coughing hoarsely.

 Ch.25:Devious Little Tantra

    Tantra stares at her reflection, tracing a line across her neck with a finger. She can still feel the edge of the blade, pressed against her neck, just before it sliced her open. Yet here she stands, in front of a mirror, distinctly alive. She has to remind herself of that fact, she is alive. Each painful intake of breath is evidence to that fact. Yet she can still feel the steel on her throat.

    ¡°Good morning!¡± Sola appears behind her, Tantra doesn¡¯t react, ¡°what? Nothing? You used to be so jumpy.¡±

    ¡°I could hear the floorboards creaking,¡± Tantra croaks, her voice has become a hoarse thing, like she was a Hedge enthusiast that¡¯s been smoking for years. That¡¯s fine, it should fix itself once she reaches foundation.

    It¡¯s fine.

    ¡°Hmmm, I¡¯ve gotten sloppy, ah well. Breakfast¡¯s ready by the by, Ranya cooked you some noodles. Best to get to it before it gets cold.¡± Sola chirps.

    Tantra nods, giving a final glance to her mirror before heading out of her room. She walks through the hallway and into the kitchen, where Ranya is absolutely destroying a plate of ribs. Tantra takes a seat in front of a steaming bowl that she assumes are her noodles, since the only other plate has curry.

    Tantra looks down and sees strips of pork floating in the broth. Funny, last she checked, they didn¡¯t have pig in the storage.

    ¡°Did you go out?¡± Tantra asks Ranya flatly, the girl stops her crusade against protein and regards Tantra sheepishly. She gives Tantra a hesitant nod. Tantra takes a deep breath through her nose, and lets it out slowly through her mouth.

    ¡°We only went after beasts,¡± Sola interrupts, before Tantra starts her tirade ¡°she didn¡¯t break her promise¡±

    ¡°There are still bandits out there,¡± Tantra argues.

    ¡°Tantra,¡± Sola gives her a flat look, ¡°we are cultivators, we do not cower in our homes.¡±

    Tantra sighs and concedes the point.

    She balances the metal chopsticks in her left hand, grabbing a few noodles and slurping them into her belly.

    Hmmm, not bad. Could use some spice but she can¡¯t expect to find that all the way out here. Though maybe the villages across the mountain have something that could add some zest or something. Still, noodles are noodles, and noodles are king. She eats slow and practiced, she knows how to handle chopsticks with her offhand, had to learn in case anything happened to her right arm, although she¡¯s still a little sloppy. Especially since she¡¯s been out of practice.

    Ranya burps as she finishes her ribs.

    ¡°Ranya!¡± Tantra scolds, ¡°that is not how a proper lady should act.¡±

    Ranya groans, ¡°Ranya is eight, she doesn¡¯t need to act like a lady.¡±

    Tantra shakes her head, ¡°when I was your age I was holding tea parties with nobility, could you imagine if I acted in such a manner in front of scions?¡±

    Ranya giggles, ¡°that would be hilarious Tantan! You totally should have done it.¡±

    ¡°Someday I¡¯m gonna drag you to Ralth to learn proper etiquette¡± She grumbles.

    -

    Circulation, Boosting, Gathering.

    The trifecta of Qi manipulation, conventional knowledge states that these are the only methods before one touches the dao. The bedrock of cultivation if you will, and how the great masters navigate its mysteries.

    So what is Offering then?

    She can¡¯t replicate the feat, she¡¯s missing something, like trying to start a fire without anything to burn. She remembers the feeling, with agonizing clarity, but no matter how much she tries it just won¡¯t work.

    The scribe who was in her room, who she¡¯s learned is named Vozen, doesn¡¯t seem perturbed by this, recording everything she said of the experience with the enthusiasm of a starved wolf to a fresh kill. She doesn¡¯t much care for the man, he watched as she was suffering, and all he did was scribble on his little scroll.

    Like he¡¯s doing right now.

    ¡°Remarkable, simply remarkable,¡± he says, pacing around her. ¡°Your lungs are still absorbing Qi, so many weeks after your recovery. Granted it¡¯s a miniscule amount, but the fact it is happening at all has so many implications.¡±

    Tantra resists the urge to spit at him, she does not enjoy being made into a science project, especially not by this man. She has¡­feelings on the sect right now, and not good ones, encouraging children to hunt bandits while still in their foundations? Prioritizing study over keeping her alive? Yeah, she has a lot of feelings. She chooses to bury them as she can¡¯t really do much about it.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°What kinds of implications master?¡± she asks instead, choosing to salvage at least something from recent events by sating her curiosity. The man looks at her with eyes that shine a deep indigo, whose crows feet crinkle with a smile.

    ¡°Well!¡± he says excitedly, ¡°first there¡¯s the obvious, you¡¯ve mutated before integration disciple Tantra, and without a dao. That by itself opens a myriad of avenues to study. Then there¡¯s how you mutated, if we can replicate the conditions-¡± Tantra gives him a horrified look,¡±-let me finish. If we can replicate the conditions with the proper equipment then we might be able to expedite the journey to foundation. Right now your body¡¯s unconsciously gathering and circulating (which is another wonderful little detail, but let''s not get distracted) which means you are, right now, slowly getting closer to foundation without having to do anything. At a much slower rate than regular training mind you, if you only used this method it might take half a century to pass through the first step, but if applied in conjunction with regular training it could shave off years for exceptional disciples.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°what about regular disciples?¡±

    The man waves her question away, ¡°the sect has to keep its secrets somehow, disciple Tantra, can¡¯t go around announcing every discovery we make, that¡¯ll just attract the sharks.¡±

    -

    She can¡¯t see inside her body, but she can feel it, with her Qi.

    It¡¯s always so fascinating, to get a sense of the internals you otherwise overlook, this rudimentary version of Qi sensing is the reason biology exists. Pushing a rope of Qi through her intestines, she marvels at her gastrointestinal tract, it¡¯s so long. She¡¯s started to use it as her method of measurement, to track her progress. So far she can maintain about half the length of her small intestine before everything falls apart. Which is much longer than her arm, when she originally upgraded to three threads, you¡¯d think that¡¯d mean she¡¯s ready for four, but no.

    She can¡¯t even stop them from dissolving once they leave her core.

    If three were a hill, four would be a mountain. She¡¯s supposed to get to six before she¡¯s ready for the next exercise. She knows that this is from an advanced manual but how in the holy light of the gods is she meant to learn all ten exercises?!? Is the librarian messing with her? He has to be messing with her. But she pushes on, it¡¯s something to occupy her time, It¡¯s also a nice bonding exercise with her friends.

    ¡°I got it to my sternum!¡± Yorin shouts excitedly, thoroughly breaking her focus.

    Tantra sighs, ¡°Yorin, while congratulations are in order, you couldn¡¯t have proclaimed your accomplishment after the allotted time?¡±

    Yorin looks sheepish as his gaze meets hers, ¡°sorry¡± he says.

    Tantra sighs again and a hand places itself on her shoulder.

    ¡°Forgive him honourable Tantra, you can only expect so much from an idiot¡± Kisrin intones wisely.

    Tantra sighs, ¡°you¡¯re not wrong¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    The three of them look at each other, then share a chuckle.

    ¡°Still, that is impressive Yorin, it took me a month to reach the same point.¡± Kisrin says.

    Yorin lets a slight smile color his features, ¡°well, all I have to do is keep trying. Much easier than learning words.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of, I think it¡¯s about time we get you a new book, that old one doesn¡¯t seem much of a challenge anymore,¡± Tantra contemplates.

    Yorin pales, ¡°please, honourable mentor, please please don¡¯t¡±

    Tantra waves him off, ¡°come now Yorin, it¡¯s progress! Don¡¯t you love progress? Besides, begging doesn¡¯t suit you.¡±

    ¡°Nor does it suit proper cultivators.¡± Someone says as they approach them.

    All three pairs of eyes turn to find Hakan with a small entourage behind him. His brown hair tied back into a man bun, and ornate robes of purple trimmed with gold rather than green. He walks to them with purpose, and all of them are wary.

    Tantra is the first to get up and bows to the boy. ¡°Young master, it is an honour to be within your presence.¡± The other two scramble to their feet and give him their own bows.

    ¡°The honour is mine, disciple Tantra.¡± Hakan says, ¡°Tell me, what is it you were doing a moment ago?¡±

    ¡°Just simple control exercises, young master.¡± Tantra replies.

    ¡°Ah,¡± a knowing smile crosses his features, ¡°wise of you, many neglect it, not realizing its inherent benefits.¡±

    Tantra bows again, ¡°this one is grateful for the praise, but she is simply following the guidance of the master librarian.¡±

    Hakan chuckles, ¡°humble, a rare trait among cultivators.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, young master.¡±

    ¡°You have nothing to thank me for.¡± Then he bows deep, getting a few scowls from his entourage, ¡°I came to offer my sincerest apologies, honourable Tantra.¡±

    Tantra panics, ¡°raise your head young master, I do not know what you are apologizing for but surely it doesn¡¯t warrant such a display.¡±

    ¡°But it does,¡± he says insistently, keeping his head distinctly bowed, ¡°I left you to squirm in the forest like a worm. That is not conduct befitting even the lowliest of cultivators. It is my shame, and I must make recompense.¡±

    She goes to tell him that no recompense is needed, that no one could have truly known that she would have survived so long drowning in her own blood. But her more mercantile side tells her to shut up for a moment and think, the favour of a young master? Even in a sect like this that could prove a magnificent boon, if she navigates correctly of course.

    She puts on her mask and refuses to let the sly smile she feels in the back of her mind play across her face.

    ¡°I am truly honoured young master,¡± she reciprocates his bow, ¡°but I find myself free of any desires at the moment. If it so pleases you, perhaps you could join this one in her training once her arm has healed and provide instruction? This one is sure the depth of your knowledge is more than enough to pay any debts.¡±

    There are a few gasps from the crowd

    Hakan rises from his bow with a bright smile on his face, ¡°of course disciple Tantra, you may seek me out at any time.¡±

    Tantra has to hold back a devious smile.

 Ch.26:Left Collarbone

    Tantra¡¯s pretty sure her core¡¯s grown, a third of it is filled with soul Qi and it feels like the same amount she had when she cleansed her first meridian. Feeling is a nebulous measurement, and while Tantra prefers more concrete methods, there are none for Qi. She doesn¡¯t know how much she¡¯s progressed in comparison to her peers, but more Qi is always a good thing, it also means she won¡¯t be seeing a full core anytime soon since her Qi stone is now officially inert. Has been for about two weeks.

    But that¡¯s okay, she doesn¡¯t really need it anymore.

    She¡¯s been boosting her blood.

    It¡¯s not wise to do so before she gets better at her control, but she only does a few motes at a time, not willing to risk overwhelming her body like last time. The greatest benefit is she doesn¡¯t even need to touch the Qi her soul gathers to complete circulating for a day''s training. Which means she can build it up to cleanse her meridians. She should probably wait until she gets a bit more Qi, just in case, every meridian cleansed makes the next harder after all. But she¡¯s only cleansed one, and it was a minor meridian, so it shouldn¡¯t be too bad.

    She pulls on her Qi and sends it to her left collarbone.

    -

    The bandits have pulled back, she doesn¡¯t know why but it seems as though the army of children actually managed to push them back. Of which there is now only little over a hundred seventy. There are rumours spreading that the Elders will have to start the tests early to get fresh blood, but Tantra hasn¡¯t seen any indication to serve as proof. Tantra is just astonished by the death count, almost half of the disciples, dead. Full blown wars don¡¯t have those kinds of percentiles. All that and the Elders barely moved a finger.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a cultivators way,¡± Sola explained, ¡°challenge must be present in the journey, fair challenge, but challenge nonetheless. If we let the strong solve all our problems we will grow weak and complacent.¡±

    ¡°But so many died,¡± Tantra points out.

    Sola purses her lips and sighs, ¡°that¡¯s the way it is Tantra, those who can¡¯t meet the challenge fall off the path.¡±

    ¡°Like Karaz,¡± Ranya says darkly.

    Sola looks at Ranya, and nods, ¡°like Karaz,¡± she whispers.

    -

    ¡°Come on,¡± Etra says, ¡°why is your arm healing so godsdamned slow?¡±

    Tantra waves her caste at the girl, ¡°getting bored honourable Etra? Kisrin and Yorin should provide sufficient challenge in my stead.¡±

    Etra rolls her eyes,¡±Kisrin¡¯s too predictable, and Yorin just refuses to go down, it¡¯s annoying. At least with your idiotic experimenting there¡¯s some flavour to the fights, even if they mostly get you sent flat on your ass.¡±

    ¡°There was that one time I knocked you to the ground,¡± Tantra points out.

    Etra scowls, ¡°that was because of a mistake on my part rather than skill on yours. Besides, we agreed not to talk about that.¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°if you¡¯re going to keep mentioning how weak I am, I may as well return the favour.¡±

    -

    Breathing hurts.

    Breathing while running is agonizing.

    Which is just what Tantra needs, another complication to her routine. She has to slow down a few times to catch her breath, still going fast enough that the assistants won¡¯t beat her. But it¡¯s making it take longer to reach exhaustion, which is not good as it cuts into the rest of her time. Although she¡¯s not exactly managing it judiciously, skipping classes means she has a lot more time to train, which she mostly uses for control, since her broken forearm won¡¯t really let her do anything else. Yorin¡¯s started attending the classes though, even though her lessons are far superior. Ah well, more time to train.

    Damn, she sounds like a cultivator.

    The regular derision doesn¡¯t show its face at the thought. She can be a cultivator, she believes that now, so long as she tries. She doesn¡¯t even need to participate in the more violent activities, just slowly building herself while dedicating her coin making to something else. A merchant cultivator sounds kind of ridiculous but¡­well it could work. She just has to make it work.

    She speeds up as the pain in her throat reaches a manageable level. She doesn¡¯t know how close she is to foundation, hasn¡¯t even started to develop her Qi senses to measure it, but she can tell she¡¯s farther than she should be. She can match Yorin now (if it weren¡¯t for the times she has to slow down) a boy raised to be a farmer and easily the most dedicated when it comes to building his foundations, and she can match him. Circulation increases the body''s capabilities incrementally, as a happy accident to adapting to Qi. She won¡¯t see the benefit of years of circulation with her blood boost method, but she still sees improvement. She¡¯s nothing like the oldest disciples, who have to move at blinding speeds just to reach exhaustion, but she¡¯s getting there.You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    She slows down as the pain becomes too much. There isn¡¯t much she can do about it, not until reaching foundation, and unfortunately scar tissue doesn¡¯t leave any openings for Qi to be absorbed. Organs are like that, they take the longest, with joints being a close second, and bones being a distant third. There just isn¡¯t much you can do to train the internals. You can break joints, and fill in the gaps with Qi, but the brain? How do you exercise that besides concussions? Even the muscles of the heart don¡¯t really get exhausted, despite the exercise. Foundation, in that sense, is a misnomer, referring exclusively to the skeleton and skeletal muscles.

    She falls, exhausted, and is carried off to the side.

    ¡°Impressive,¡± says the chipper voice of the assistant, ¡°your growth has been nothing short of amazing.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tantra croaks between breaths, blinking away the stars in her vision.

    He sits in front of her rather than returning to observe the other disciples, ¡°masters got you on that special little technique of theirs eh?¡±

    Tantra blinks, then gives the assistant a sharp look.

    He raises both hands, ¡°relax, they gave me that manual when I crossed foundation. Rather handy technique eh? I¡¯m surprised they gave it to you so early.¡±

    Tantra nods slowly, ¡°It is, honourable assistant,¡±

    He lets out a small chuckle, ¡°call me Rakan, and you¡¯re Tantra. Girl with her soul so far and connection so weak it''s a wonder you can walk at all. Have to say, buying your way into a sect isn¡¯t exactly honourable, or fair, but you¡¯ve proven surprisingly determined.¡±

    Tantra suppresses her shock, keeping a placid expression on her face. ¡°Is there something I can do for you honourable Rakan?¡±

    Rakan smiles wide, ¡°more like what I can do for you kiddo. You¡¯ve caught my interest, and everyone loves an underdog story, how would you like to be my student?¡±

    Tantra stares at him, not really knowing what to say.

    ¡°Think on it,¡± he says, then he waves his hand and materializes a truly massive studded bludgeon, ¡°come see me if you''re interested, and once you¡¯ve got one of these.¡±

    ¡°I am partial to the spear,¡± she says blandly.

    He shrugs, ¡°see how that works out for you once you start fighting cultivators who don¡¯t give a shit about a few pokes.¡±

    He gets up with a flourish and returns his club to whichever artifact he has on his person, ¡°see you soon Tantra.¡±

    -

    Sola walks down to the merit hall with a bounce to her step.

    She managed to take down a proper beast! Sure it was a squirrel, at one point, but the fact she managed before foundation is remarkable in and off itself, she carries a corpse the size of a dog, with a tail that splits into three, and claws that are hooked into the merit hall. She doesn¡¯t get much attention for the kill, there are others here with much more impressive bounties but she can¡¯t help her smile at the look of sheer terror she gets as she walks up to one of the alchemist buyers.

    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± the man says.

    ¡°C¡¯mon Bomin, don¡¯t be like that, it¡¯s just a squirrel.¡± Sola says with an innocent smile as she plops the corpse on his counter.

    ¡°I don¡¯t care what it was, that thing¡¯ll send my finances to the hells just on its own! Go to one of the others kid, looking at this thing is giving me enough of a headache.¡±

    Sola pouts, and as she goes to pick up the squirrel a hand is placed on her shoulder.

    ¡°No worries Bomin, I can cover the cost if it¡¯s for an old friend,¡± someone says behind her.

    ¡°Master ¡®librarian¡¯¡± Bomin says blandly, ¡°to what do I owe the pleasure?¡±

    ¡°Nothing much, I just want to speak with the girl.¡±

    ¡°Well feel free to do so you old codger.¡±

    The man nods, snaps his fingers and suddenly the sounds of the merit hall disappear. Sola looks around to the people and finds them moving their mouths, but nothing comes out.

    ¡°A silence field,¡± the librarian says, ¡°handy little trinket.¡±

    ¡°Apologies master,¡± Sola says as she turns to him, ¡°but do I know you?¡±

    The man shrugs, ¡°you¡¯ve visited my library a few times, back when you were studying combat manuals, apparently it¡¯s been long enough that the memory has faded.¡±

    Embarrassment creeps up unto her face and she bows, ¡°apologies master, I meant no offence¡±

    ¡°No offence was taken,¡± the man shrugs, ¡°I am quite forgettable after all.¡±

    There¡¯s an awkward silence before Sola decides to speak up, ¡°you wished to speak with me master?¡±

    The man strokes his beard as he regards her, ¡°your Qi sense is remarkable for your age.¡±

    What? Sola¡¯s brain short circuits for a moment.

    ¡°How?¡± she blurts out.

    The man looks amused at her, ¡°you learn a few tricks as you age.¡±

    ¡°But that shouldn¡¯t be possible,¡± Sola says.

    The man grunts, ¡°a little hypocritical for one who¡¯s touched the dao at such a young age.¡±

    Sola blinks at him, ¡°Is that what this is about?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± he shakes his head, ¡°this is about that merchant friend of yours. Tell me, have you noticed how fast she¡¯s been progressing?¡±

    Sola shakes her head slowly, ¡°I never thought to look.¡±

    The man looks almost disappointed in her, ¡°well you should start noticing soon. When you do, don¡¯t comment on it, and don¡¯t tell anyone.¡±

    ¡°I am very confused, master, is there something special about Tantra?¡± Sola asks.

    The man stares her down, letting some of his Qi blanket them both.

    ¡°I won¡¯t tell anyone,¡± Sola mumbles, wilting under pressure.

    He retracts his Qi.

    ¡°Good,¡± he says, ¡°very good.¡±

    Suddenly the noise returns to the hall.

    ¡°Now then¡± he says, ¡°a thousand merits for that squirrel should be enough, no?¡±

    Sola¡¯s eyes go wide, ¡°more than enough master!¡± She bows.

    He nods and extends a sect token, she hastily does the same and feels hers get incrementally heavier as they touch and the merits are transferred.

    ¡°Well, it was nice seeing you Bomin, but I do have a library to attend to¡±

    Bomin scoffs, ¡°sure you do.¡±

 Ch.27:Conflagration

    ¡°Begone foul demon! Return to the hells where you belong,¡± Tantra yells as she points a wooden blade at the woman in front of her, the woman puts on a sly smile.

    ¡°Simple fool,¡± she says, ¡°you have eyes, yet you do not see. You have ears, yet you do not hear. This place you call home is just another layer of the hells, and I have simply returned to my home.¡±

    Tantra gasps, ¡°Lies! You lie, demon!¡±

    The woman cackles ¡°strike me down then oh noble cultivator, take your blade and drive it through my heart. Kill me, and I will simply return.¡±

    Tantra hesitates, but hardens her resolve, ¡°then I will kill you then as well.¡±

    Tantra charges with a war cry and swings her blade, the woman dodges and rushes in bearing down on Tantra and tickling her sides, Tantra loses her blade and starts laughing hysterically.

    ¡°Ral, stop!¡± Tantra manages.

    ¡°I am not Ral, I am Rolinda the demon of lost memories!¡± The woman declares, continuing to tickle Tantra, ¡°and you are at my mercy!¡±

    Tantra laughs and laughs until she¡¯s out of breath and Ral lets her go, Tantra gets up shakily and faces the woman with a pout.

    ¡°You said no tickling!¡±

    Ral puts a finger on her lip, ¡°did I now? I don¡¯t seem to recall.¡±

    Tantra huffs, ¡°of course you don¡¯t¡±

    Ral chuckles and it is the perfect melody of a proper lady, ¡°now now Tantra, don¡¯t be like that. I promise not to do it again¡±

    Tantra crosses her arms and glares at the woman.

    ¡°I¡¯ll pay for a meal at Goruks¡± Ral offers with a slight smile.

    Tantra perks up immediately, ¡°With extra beef in the noodles!¡±

    Ral chuckles, ¡°come now Tantra, we don¡¯t want you getting fat. A woman¡¯s figure is their pride after all.¡±

    ¡°It is a worthy sacrifice,¡± Tantra nods solemnly, ¡°only the best noodles can be served at my table!¡±

    ¡°Tokar won¡¯t be happy,¡± Ral points out.

    Tantra¡¯s enthusiasm peters out, ¡°papa¡¯s fat, why can¡¯t Tantra just enjoy her food like he does?¡±

    Ral shrugs, ¡°a merchant lives and dies by their image, Tantra, and being a young lady you can¡¯t just drape yourself in gaudy jewelry and expensive perfumes like the men. You have to actually pay attention. It¡¯s not fair, but life rarely is.¡±

    Tantra kicks the floor dejectedly, and Ral gives her a warm smile and pats her on the head.

    ¡°Come on my little merchant, let¡¯s get the others, it would be rude not to invite them.¡±

    -

    Toka examines her arm meticulously, having her stretch, flex and extend, and then tapping portions of her forearm with some kind of small hammer. She felt a little pain from that, which apparently means there are still fractures, but overall¡­

    ¡°You should be fine to train,¡± Toka says, ¡°though next time kindly avoid breaking your arm from the inside out.¡±

    Tantra chuckles nervously, ¡°apologies healer Toka, I let my anger at my opponent overwhelm me in the moment, it won¡¯t happen again.¡±

    ¡°It likely will,¡± Toka sighs, ¡°but that¡¯s what I¡¯m here for in the end, so you kids can do your reckless crap with a safety net.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    ¡°And you have my gratitude for it,¡± Tantra bows.

    Toka waves her off, ¡°off you go now, I have other patients I need to see today.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°even with the¡­reduced population?¡±

    Toka purses her lips, ¡°cultivators always find new and inventive ways to hurt themselves, and I see the peasant servants as well.¡±

    ¡°All of them?¡±

    Toka nods.

    ¡°That¡¯s a lot for just four healers,¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°Eh, it furthers our daos, so it¡¯s worth it¡± Toka shrugs.

    -

    Aim, thrust, reset.

    Step, slash, reset.

    Observe, block, reset.

    She goes through the motions of her spear form fluidly, surrounded by other disciples practicing with their respective weapons. Only Tantra, Yorin, Kisrin, and Etra still carry spears, everyone else moving on to whichever weapon they found cool. Tantra¡¯s pretty sure that¡¯s how children base most of their decisions. Ignoring, of course, that she is also a child. Master Jorin stopped correcting them after that first month of practice, of which Tantra only got two weeks, directing them to the library to search for proper weapon forms. Tantra got a book called the serpent¡¯s snare, which mostly focuses on defence and devastating blows that have to be set up like a trap. She mostly got it for the defence.

    Kisrin and Etra are practicing something related to speed, while Yorin is just sticking to the basics, not really putting much effort into the spear. Which is a shame, it¡¯s a pretty good weapon.

    Good enough for proper cultivators? She remembers how the first bandit she fought seemingly shrugged off a punctured lung as though it were a mere inconvenience. How would the spear fare against proper spirit beasts? Or cultivators of greater power? Will she ever find herself in a situation where this even matters? She finds herself contemplating this a lot after Rakan¡¯s advice. But does she want to go with a brute¡¯s weapon? Does it matter? Only personal instruction from Jorin himself could top what she was offered. The assistants are each and all on the cusp of becoming inner disciples, they just need to take that final step and anchor their souls. Getting personal instruction from one with so many years of experience would be worth the price of using a¡­less than desirable weapon.

    She sighs as she makes her decision.

    -

    Mongrels are, in essence, proto-spirit beasts. Regular animals changed by Qi, but not so much where they could be considered distinct from their species. Strength varies based on the animal, but generally they aren¡¯t that much stronger than their mortal counterparts. They are, however, much more aggressive.

    The three of them approach the buck. Clomping its hooves and waving its antlers, it grunts and huffs as it considers them. Yorin goes to stab it. The deer jumps over to him knocking the spear away with its antlers, charging at the boy. Just before it bowls him over, Tantra and Kisrin manage to stab it in its hindquarters, eliciting a pained bleat as it jumps away. Blood flows freely as it lets out a rumble from its chest, head low to the ground and watching. The three of them get back in their triangle around the deer slowly approaching as it stares. Then it jumps for Tantra, who pulls back her spear just before it knocks it out of the way and drives the weapon deep into its chest.

    The deer lets out a bleat that overtakes the forest as Tantra holds it still for Kisrin and Yorin to impale. The beast goes limp and lifeless as one of their spears pierces its heart. Tantra lets out a slow breath as she calms her racing heart.

    ¡°We did it!¡± Yorin shouts with ecstatic joy.

    ¡°Indeed we did, a decently sized one as well,¡± Kisrin adds as he rubs sweat off his brow.

    ¡°Well, this one hopes her honourable peers are satisfied, that was horrifying.¡± Tantra says.

    The two of them chuckle, ¡°come now Tantra, you¡¯re not so much of a coward as to be frightened by a deer.¡± Kisrin says.

    ¡°This one is, in fact, that much of a coward,¡± Tantra asserts.

    Yorin rolls his eyes, ¡°sure, Tantan, sure¡±

    Tantra looks scandalized at the boy, ¡°have you been speaking with Ranya?¡±

    Yorin lets a devious smirk sneak onto his face, ¡°she has a funny taste for nicknames, you know what she calls master Karr?¡±

    Tantra shakes her head,

    ¡°Jojo,¡± He says.

    Kisrin scrunches his brow, ¡°now that¡¯s just bizarre¡±

    -

    Conflagration.

    It is¡­beautiful.

    He is in the centre of a blaze, enraptured by the sight of the living flame. For it must be living, only something alive consumes so voraciously, only something alive could display such graceful motions, only something alive could destroy so wantonly. That is the purpose of fire, destruction, but also purification, a new beginning.

    He brought to this village a new chapter, for it to grow and prosper and gather kindling for the next burn.

    Is he not a benevolent god?

    To so freely give such a gift onto mortals.

    He basks in the flame and heat, taking in a deep breath of charred wood and cooked meat.

    ¡°Ahhh,¡± says the bonfire, ¡°what a beautiful flame for a beautiful day.¡±

 Ch.28:Six More Months

    Carving arrays is a delicate process, the words of the World are not things that tolerate mistakes, each one must be perfected, their connections fluid and curves smooth. Even learning the language is a headache and a half, which is why most array artists are past their thirties. Now creating a new array? That, my friends, is a monumental task.

    But it doesn¡¯t stop Vozen from trying.

    Converting Qi to air is a simple process. Take the character for Qi, conversion, and air, and organize it into that order. Then Qi will fill the carving and create¡­.well, air. Not exactly an impressive feat, but it is the first step to what he¡¯s trying to do.

    He knows how to make a partial conversion, theoretically, it would simply fill this whole room with array script, which is what he¡¯s doing right now, as a proof of concept. He doesn¡¯t actually plan to make a room like that standard, it would be too difficult to keep a secret and allow worthy students to enter at the same time.

    Maybe on the mountain.

    Using this discovery to benefit only the strong leaves a bad taste in his mouth though. This could be a massive breakthrough! Potentially a whole new path to tread! If only they didn¡¯t need to hide their discoveries from the other sects and the greedy jackals of the world. Imagine how much further research would go if they all worked together.

    Ah well, such is the way of cultivators, to walk the journey alone.

    -

    There are few things that can match the exuberance of one happy Yorin. He swings his guandao with glee through the air with absolutely none of the careful precision expected of cultivators. Kisrin looks on bemused at his antics as Tantra carries a soft smile. fifteen hunts and two thousand merits, but they got something worthy of her friend. The guandao might even last him into anchoring.

    ¡°This is amazing!¡± Yorin says excitedly, ¡°It¡¯s so light! And fast!¡±

    Kisrin chuckles, ¡°that''s what the scripts are for.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you got me something so expensive! This is the best! You guys are the best!¡± Yorin says.

    ¡°Now, now Yorin, say such things to a merchant and they¡¯re liable to take advantage of you¡± Tantra warns.

    Yorin snorts, ¡°please Tantra, tell better jokes, you would never do that¡±

    A sly smile creeps onto her face, ¡°That''s what you think, with your simple little mind Yorin, perhaps I¡¯m playing the long game? It¡¯s always a positive to know competent cultivators in my business after all.¡±

    ¡°Is that why you¡¯ve been training with the young master?¡± Kisrin asks, ¡°making connections?¡±

    Tantra nods, ¡°exactly, if I can get the ear of the whole sect then the Jade Sol enterprise will have another source of muscle to protect its assets.¡±

    Kisrin lets out a sigh of relief.

    Yorin eyes them both then sighs, ¡°honestly, you two¡­¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡± Tantra asks.

    ¡°Oh how I wish I could tell you Tantra, unfortunately that¡¯s not my place,¡± He looks pointedly at Kisrin, who freezes up.

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°tell me what?¡±Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°Nothing of importance!¡± Kisrin says quickly, ¡°Yorin is just being silly.¡±

    Tantra blinks, then shrugs, ¡°well okay then.¡±

    -

    Tantra is doing push ups, one at a time.

    She still can¡¯t do proper ones, but that¡¯s because she¡¯s been actively avoiding them. But she has to now, to complete her foundations. Her legs have passed the threshold where they no longer take damage from Qi boosting. Eight months into the journey and she¡¯s already done a third of her foundations. That kind of progress is unheard of. She¡¯s experimented a little with it, and while she can¡¯t take much before her muscles reach exhaustion, she can move incredibly fast if she wanted to. She suspects she¡¯s not very far along physically, still only being able to match Yorin who still has little over three years before he completes his legs if he keeps jogging everyday. Which is interesting, but not surprising. Still, now that she can boost, she can beat Yorin in any race at any time. She considered continuing with jogging, to specialize in her legs, and maybe she will, but she has to at least alternate between the two exercises if she actually wants to reach foundation rather than becoming a running maniac. Jogging exercises the muscles of the legs, lower back, and abdomen, and while the latter two don¡¯t see as much benefit as the former, they still see significant benefits. Push-ups have some overlap but they mainly train the arms, chest, and back. Which should only take another six months with her boosting technique, then¡­then she can go home.

    -

    ¡°You know,¡± Etra slurs as she takes a swig of her gourd around the fire, ¡°you''re not so bad for an uptight cunt.¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow as she swallows a piece of sweetened bread, ¡°I¡¯m fairly certain that¡¯s not how normal people phrase a complement¡±

    Etra waves her off, ¡°normal people are lameee. All about planting crops and tilling fields. Or other shit, like cutting wood. Can you imagine dedicating your life to chop wood? Honestly, if they loved trees so much they might as well fuck ¡®em.¡±

    Tantra gives her an affronted look, ¡°carpenters are the reason we have our homes! It is a most honourable profession and I will not hear you disparage it.¡±

    ¡°Oh puh-lease,¡± Etra says, ¡°If they want to chop wood so much they should become immortal. Then they can do it for eternity!¡±

    ¡°If everyone travelled the path, we¡¯d have no one to keep our societies from collapsing.¡± Kisrin points out.

    ¡°Maybe it should collapse then! Honestly, peasant life is fucking depressing. At least compared to this¡± Etra says as she passes the gourd to Yorin who happily takes a sip.

    ¡°Surely it can¡¯t be that bad.¡± Tantra says

    ¡°Speak for yourself, merchant girl, I was raised in a village. The only thing you had to look forward to was back breaking labour, occasional gossip, and on rare occasions some meat from a spirit beast that got a little too close.¡± Etra says.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the goblins,¡± Kisrin says.

    ¡°The fuck are goblins?¡± Etra asks.

    Kisrin shrugs, ¡°short, humanoid, green. Has a tendency to mutate rapidly.¡±

    ¡°And they''re all connected to the dao of hunger.¡± Tantra points out.

    Etra stares at both of them, ¡°that is horrifying, how have I not heard of this before?¡±

    ¡°Gobs live back in Ranya¡¯s home,¡± Ranya says between bites of venison.

    Etra just looks confused.

    ¡°She means down in southern Rikidan¡± Tantra provides, ¡°which does beg the question of how you both got here?¡±

    Kisrin shrugs, ¡°wandering cultivators from the sect scouted me.¡±

    ¡°Same!¡± Ranya says as she tears off a big hunk of meat, ¡°I miss Hilly, he was so cool!¡±

    Kisrin scoffs, ¡°mine was a cultivation freak, forced me to run as fast as I could behind her or I¡¯d be left stranded.¡±

    ¡°Guys! Jojo¡¯s walking to the centre of the field.¡± Ranya says excitedly.

    All the chatter ceases as they observe the caramel skinned man carrying a torch walk around the small pockets of fire made by the disciples to the centre, Where logs are stacked against each other in preparation for a pyre.

    ¡°Greetings precious disciples of the Serpent¡¯s Fang, and congratulations.¡± Jorin¡¯s voice doesn¡¯t exceed his normal volume, and yet it travels across the field to all the disciples present, ¡°Hard has the year been, filled with death and mourning. But those who stand today are stronger for it, ever prepared for the future, ever prepared for the struggle. I want us to take this moment to commemorate the fallen, to their memory, and to their bravery, I want us to take this moment to recognize the tenacity we have all displayed on our journey, I want us to take a moment to prepare ourselves for another year of pain. Yet there is beauty in the suffering, do not forget that, or the moments that tie us all together as sect brothers and sisters.¡±

    He takes a deep breath, then lets it all out one boisterous yell, ¡°happy new year!¡±

    There are cheers as he throws the torch into the pyre.

 Ch.29:Club

    Rakan is cleaning his club.

    The weapon doesn¡¯t need much maintenance. It¡¯s a club. But it beehoves him not to give some love to his oldest companion. The slice that the bandit bitch made is cast over, getting the scripts redone was a pain and a half though. He¡¯s a little peeved by how easy it was for her to handle him. Sure, he hasn¡¯t anchored, but his roots are deep, making him stronger than some cultivators in connection. But arrogance begets punishment, as someone said once in his life, he thinks it was his parents. He doesn¡¯t really remember them. Anyway, point is he got a little confident, and someone stronger showed him what was what, if it wasn¡¯t for master Jorin he likely would have faced a rather gruesome end.

    He¡¯s given more than a few so he¡¯d probably deserve it.

    ¡°What do you want, girl?¡± he says to the kid behind him, ¡°I¡¯m kinda busy cleaning and contemplating.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m here about the offer you presented,¡± She says.

    Rakan turns with an eyebrow raised, eyeing the girl.

    She¡¯s carrying a kanab¨­, much like his, that rivals her in size.

    ¡°That was three months ago,¡± he says amused.

    ¡°You never mentioned a deadline,¡± she insists, ¡°I simply took my time.¡±

    He snorts, ¡°a vice all cultivators share.¡±

    He gets up and shoulders his club, facing the girl.

    ¡°Well come on and swing, don¡¯t leave me hanging,¡± He says.

    She blinks at him, ¡°just like that?¡±

    ¡°What, did you expect more pomp and fanfare? I offered, you accepted, now swing.¡±

    ¡°Okay¡­¡± She positions her club above her and swings.

    Time doesn¡¯t slow down, that¡¯s not how improved perception works. A second is still a second, and an instant is still an instant. Even so, he can trace every inch of the club''s arc as it goes for his head. The kid really doesn¡¯t care if he gets hurt, does she? Good, that means he won¡¯t have to do a show of force to get her serious. He takes a step to the side just before the club would have hit.

    ¡°The club may be a simple weapon,¡± he says, ¡°but you still have to use the basic principles, put your whole body into it girl.¡±

    She steps closer and swings again, this time from the side, it¡¯s slightly faster than before, he shrugs off his own weapon and places it¡¯s head to the ground, leaving the body to weather the blow. It doesn¡¯t move so much as an inch.

    ¡°Not bad, could be better.¡± he says, ¡°try to get used to swinging constantly, a weapon of this size is better at area denial and groups, not dueling.¡±

    He demonstrates by bringing his club up to his shoulder, then swinging down diagonally, shouldering it to his other side and repeating the motion, making a figure eight. The girls took a step back so as to not get bludgeoned.

    ¡°Keep it nice and smooth, this¡¯ll be the motion you have to memorise, got it brat?¡±

    She nods, ¡°yes master,¡±

    He blinks, ¡°don¡¯t call me that, I don¡¯t want to get rocked by Jorin just ¡®cause you wanted to be all respectful.¡±

    Tantra gives a sly smirk, ¡°of course master¡±

    -

    She forces all her being to focus on one point, causing her whole body to sweat and her head to pound as she takes four threads of Qi and brings them together. They touch, they thread, and the beginning of a rope is made.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Then it is lost.

    Tantra doubles over and has to hold in bile.

    She¡¯s never experienced a physical reaction that intense during a control exercise. Sure, she knew it was theoretically possible, if willpower triumphs over what the soul can handle, but she never expected to experience it. It also means her soul¡¯s too weak to even think about the other exercises, which is a shame.

    She doesn¡¯t care much for bottlenecks.

    Oh well, so long as she keeps cultivating, her soul will grow in conjunction, so she¡¯ll be able to do it eventually. Who knows, maybe this is even a good thing, if she can force herself through the same process over and over again. She shudders at the thought.

    But it would be effective.

    She shelves that for the moment and goes for the other matter of insistence.

    Her second rib, and her soon to be sixth meridian.

    There was a time when she didn¡¯t believe she would ever free her meridians, possessing a soul so far from her body that it¡¯s a wonder she gets any Qi at all. Now she has five, all anchoring her soul and providing what little stability minor meridians can offer. But now it¡¯s time for another.

    A fifth of her core contains the required Qi, but it is enough.

    She sits in the lotus position and looks inside herself.

    Well, feels inside herself, same difference.

    She finds her second rib, and brings the Qi of her soul to burn the filth that it contains. It is not easy, requiring more effort to puncture the meridian than the times before, losing Qi to the lack of efficiency. But here she finds her control useful, she can grab the motes that disconnect from the thread and integrate them back.

    Not all of them, there''s much too many for that, but it helps reduce the burden.

    Like every time before, she scours the impurities and connects the meridian to her soul. Six small anchors, barely anything at all, but it¡¯s progress.

    She¡¯ll take progress

    -

    ¡°If the Qi of the world is like water, then the Qi of the soul is like blood.

    Pure, dense, and distinctly yours. It is pure, in the sense that it doesn¡¯t carry with it the concepts of the world until one touches the dao, tailor made to the individual. It is stronger than the surrounding atmosphere, easier to manage, easier to use. What might be my point in saying all this? Well, my point is that one who has anchored, so flush with soul Qi, is leagues above one who has not. Yet you have challenged me anyway, little fools from your little sect.¡± Say¡¯s the man with a short beard and a shaved head, he¡¯s wearing robes of green with a gold trim, and the token attached to it is in the shape of a reptile''s eye.

    He¡¯s surrounded by disciples wearing robes of white on black, one of whom he¡¯s leisurely sitting on.

    One of them, the one with a dented skull and definite brain damage, points at him with his broadsword.

    ¡°You trespass into our territory and disparage The Mouth Of The Deep, knave! Under the light of heaven and the gaze of the gods I will see you struck down, no matter the gap that lies between our cultivation!¡±

    The man and green sighs, gets up, and manifests a scorpion whip in his right hand and a buckler of steel in his left. There are a few disciples on the ground, and a few readying their weapons, it doesn¡¯t really matter  to him though. Sure, he isn¡¯t that far ahead, technically, but he¡¯s had decades to refine his soul and deepen his foundations. Just because he hasn¡¯t taken the next step does not mean a couple dozen purification brats can challenge him.

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t let those kinds of words slip by without repercussions. Rikidan rules these lands boy, not your sect, and to threaten one such as I. Get out of my sight before I decide the dent in your head isn¡¯t excuse enough to save you from my blade.¡±

    The surrounding disciples pale, realizing their little brawl might turn into a legitimate bloodbath. The fool boy goes to answer but someone so dark they may as well be a void grabs the nape of his neck.

    ¡°That is no way to treat a guest Jorak,¡± says a suction of air as the color of the world is drained with every breath, the thing vaguely possesses a human shape, but taller, and lankier. With arms that could perhaps touch the ground despite standing at eight feet.

    The boy pales and tries to speak, but finds the words taken from him before they can leave his mouth.

    ¡°No excuses now,¡± the thing says, ¡°let''s not embarrass ourselves further hmmm?¡±

    The disciple clamps his mouth shut and the void let''s go.

    ¡°Ilkar!¡± It says jovially, shifting its focus to the bald man in green, ¡°what a joy it is to see you once more old friend, come come, I have the finest tea from Ralth waiting for your tastebuds to delight in.¡±

    Ilkar chuckles, ¡°always one for dramatics, eh old monster?¡±

 Ch.30:Foundations

    ¡°The Rikidan empire was formed in the first millennium of Roguth¡¯karrs wrath¡± Tantra recites, ¡°originally it was a collection of city states, all ben-efiting from mutual trade deals but having ex-clu-sive militaries. This changed once the dead began to rise from the ground and rav-ag-ed the world. Forthigal Rikid, leader of Goroka City, led a united coalition to fight a va-li-ant defence. Eventually once the dust was settled, after thousands of years, the borders between City States became non-existent, and so became the central territories of Rikidan, forever may it reign.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful,¡± a woman claps, ¡°all off the top of your head? Fabulous! At this rate you¡¯ll surpass me in historical knowledge, little jewel.¡± She says as pinches Tantra''s cheek and pulls.

    ¡°Aunt Temiiii, don¡¯t do that! It hurts.¡±

    Aunt Temi scoffs, ¡°you should stop being so cute then, maybe get into a few street fights and break that pretty nose of yours?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Tantra covers her nose, ¡°Tantra will stay pretty forever and ever!¡±

    -

    Tantra stares at the mirror, there¡¯s a large scar on her throat, from one end to the other, a constant reminder of her mortality. There are others, the one deep into her right shoulder is actually bigger than the one on her throat, but her robes do a good job of covering it up. There¡¯s one on her chest, going from lower right rib to top left rib. Then there¡¯s the one on her back. It''s hard to see using the mirror but she¡¯s pretty sure it¡¯s mostly straight, leaning more towards her right.

    She is, most certainly, never going to be a proper lady with scars like these.

    She can still be a merchant though, who knows, maybe it¡¯ll add to the aesthetic.

    She takes a deep breath, ¡°Rolan Rode a Rowdy Reindeer down to Rikidan proper¡±

    She can hear it then, a hint of her old voice peaking through. It¡¯s still hoarse and scratchy, but not as much as before.

    She smiles wide into the mirror.

    -

    ¡°I¡¯m Pinia Farson. It''s a pleasure to meet you!¡± Says a girl who is perhaps just on the cusp of reaching the double digits for age. Her robe is in pristine condition, a deep purple with green trim and a green sash to hold it all at the waist. She has short black hair, much like Tantra¡¯s, but her eyes are a vibrant ruby.

    ¡°Pinia,¡± Ranya says, like she¡¯s tasting the name and finds it wanting.

    ¡°Farson,¡± Sola says with derision.

    Pinia eyes them awkwardly.

    ¡°Apologies, honored junior,¡± Tantra says, ¡°these two are simply being idiots, please do not mind them.¡±

    ¡°Ranya is not an idiot!¡± Ranya says.

    ¡°Then show some courtesy and welcome her into our home.¡± Tantra hisses, before turning back to Pinia. ¡°Apologies, honored junior, I have yet to introduce myself, I am Tantra Sol.¡±

    Pinia bows, hastily trying to match her formal demeanour, ¡°greetings?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± Sola says, ¡°Tantra¡¯s the only one in the sect who actually cares about formalities.¡±

    ¡°Kisrin does as well,¡± Tantra replies.

    ¡°Only because he wants to get under your robes.¡±

    Tantra blushes, ¡°honourable senior!¡± She exclaims, ¡°do not joke about such things, Kisrin is just a friend.¡±

    ¡°Much to his disappointment.¡±

    Tantra¡¯s expression hardens, ¡°you want to be like that? Fine, do not forget that you made me do this.¡±

    Tantra boosts her legs to the maximum they can handle, jumping from her seat and dashing to Sola, the girl blinks in surprise, but it¡¯s too late. Tantra is upon her tickling her sides like a vulture feasting on a fresh kill. Sola howls and hollars, her cries for mercy ignored as Ranya sends a solemn prayer to the gods that her journey through the cycle might be one without troubles. Pinia looks confused but mostly amused, barely able to stifle a few chuckles of her own.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Eventually, once Tantra has deemed the girl''s punishment suitable, she stops her assault on the nervous system and gets back up. She brushes herself off professionally, displaying a prim and proper countenance as she returns to her seat like a proper lady.

    Sola pants hard as she gets up, frazzled and frankly affronted.

    ¡°You had to do that in front of the new kid?¡± Sola asks.

    Tantra nods with gravitas, ¡°know to watch your words next time if you don¡¯t want to be made a fool.¡±

    ¡°I miss when you had respect.¡± Sola grumbles.

    ¡°I still do Sola, but only for those who have earned it.¡±

    Sola rolls her eyes, ¡°alright, let''s get the introductions over with, then we¡¯ll¡­¡± she pauses, looking distant for a moment, ¡°then we¡¯ll show you to your room.¡±

    -

    Pinia is so excited!

    She¡¯s actually here, actually amongst cultivators. By the hells she¡¯s considered a cultivator! All her dreams wrapped in a neat bow, papa said not to get her hopes up when the recruiters came, and indeed most of them passed her over. Saying some rather mean things while they were at it, but the Serpent''s Fang took her! A strange man whose skin is whiter than white looked into her soul and found her worthy! Despite her¡­uh¡­lackluster performance in the selection tournament. No one tried to fight for her to join their sect, which hurts a bit, but does it really matter?

    She¡¯s here!

    As she opens the door to her new room with exuberant joy she sees something unexpected.

    ¡°Is that a duck?¡±

    The duck honks at her.

    -

    Kisrin gets in his stance and thrusts his new spear with all the force he can manage. It cuts through air like a heated knife might cut through butter. The spear is a simple weapon, sure, but it¡¯s also the best weapon. At least until they can start performing some rather superhuman feats, but even then it¡¯s still the best among equals, in his humble opinion. Everyone just wants to get something cool that¡¯ll follow them in the tales bards surely will sing once they go on their adventures.

    If they cared at all for practicality they¡¯d all choose the spear.

    He was almost disappointed when he saw Tantra with a kanab¨­, but after hearing her explanation, he can hardly blame her.

    Personal instruction from an assistant?

    Even he might change weapons if offered something like that.

    -

    Yorin skips through the field with his book under his arm.

    He¡¯s done! He''s finally, finally, done. No more studying for him, no sir please and thank you, from now on it''s a straight path to immortality and all its wonders. He almost feels bad for how happy he is about that. Tantra put a lot of time into making sure he can read and understand basic arithmetic. Even taught some biology, but only for the main areas the big meridians affect.

    Which was actually pretty interesting but he doesn¡¯t want to think about that right now.

    He knocks on the door to his friend''s house.

    Tantra opens the door and gives him a raised brow.

    He points at the book settled in his arm.

    She gives a soft smile and ushers him in.

    -

    Meditation isn¡¯t easy for someone like her, she needs action, she needs excitement, and meditation is just breathing with your eyes closed doing nothing. Except gathering Qi, which is why Etra even bothers. Her cores gotten too big, it takes a full week to fill now rather than just a few hours, meaning she has to start adapting to regular bouts of meditation to fill up the more lackluster Qi radiating from the world.

    Filtering out their concepts is a pain in the ass, but it won¡¯t fit otherwise.

    She lets out a frustrated groan as she loses more three quarters of the Qi before she can integrate it into her core.

    She fucking hates gathering.

    -

    Jorin looks at his soul, it is a large thing of rugged edges under a calcified shell. At its center is the sound of beating, as soft soul-flesh moves to its tune. His soul is only half formed, not yet ready for integration.

    That¡¯s the price for connection to one of the greater dao¡¯s, but that¡¯s fine, the benefits outweigh the sacrifice. He runs a metaphorical finger across the calcified shell, limbs don¡¯t exist here, but he can shape his will into the concept of a finger and get the same result. It feels like it¡¯s burning, each beat adding to the heat as it radiates into the cosmos of nothing.

    He smiles, makes a chisel out of Qi, and chips off a piece.

    -

    Tantra takes a deep breath.

    In.

    Out.

    In.

    Out.

    She grabs a small thread from her core, and marvels at how easy it is to move.

    She boosts her chest. No pain.

    She boosts her arms. No pain.

    She boosts her back. No pain.

    She goes over every muscle and bone, one by one boosting all of them and can barely contain her glee when she finds that it does not hurt. It''s exhausting, sure, but there¡¯s no pain.

    She lets out an ecstatic shout of joy.

 Ch.31:A Collection Of Fools

    A small smile and gentle claps echo through the library as the librarian regards Tantra.

    ¡°You made it, girl. Congratulations, you can officially call yourself a proper cultivator.¡± He says, ¡°I¡¯m almost surprised you¡¯ve made it this far, I¡¯ll be honest, and you¡¯ll have to forgive an old man for feeling a bit of sentimental pride for the fact that you did.¡±

    Tantra smiles wide at the reason she¡¯s advanced so quickly, puts down her books, and gives the man a deep bow.

    ¡°A thousand gratitudes master!¡± She says ¡°I owe all my progress to your wisdom and dutiful guidance.¡±

    The librarian snorts, ¡°let¡¯s not get too ahead of ourselves girl, this is only the beginning of a long journey, and we have yet to see if you can tread it¡±

    Tantra just gets up from her bow with an exuberant smile that causes the old man to chuckle.

    ¡°Now, I assume you are leaving?¡± He tilts his head to the books.

    ¡°Yes master,¡± she says, ¡°I have not seen my family in little over a year, and the heart yearns for their company once more. I will be back, this I promise you, It shouldn¡¯t take more than a few years before we meet again¡±

    The librarian waves her off, ¡°journeys can get surprisingly long, girl, especially with the amount of detours you plan on taking before heading home.¡±

    Tantra gives him a shocked look, ¡°how did you know?¡±

    ¡°I have my ways,¡± He shrugs, ¡°now lets see here¡­¡±

    He goes over the books one by one, making sure that the names match with the records as he crosses them off and places them into specific boxes for when he is to return them to their proper locations.

    ¡°Good,¡± he says, ¡°that should be everything.¡±

    ¡°Master?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°There are still two left,¡± she points at the advanced control manual and the blood infusion technique.

    ¡°Those are yours girl,¡± he says with a raised brow, ¡°have been since they touched your fingers.¡±

    Tantra gives him a confused look, ¡°but what about the sect¡¯s secrets?¡±

    The man shrugs, ¡°I doubt the infusion technique is much of a secret if it found its way into our hands, the measures we take are more so disciples who aren¡¯t ready for such techniques rather than hiding it from our rivals. All the real secrets are up on the mountain, for the inner disciples to use at their leisure.¡±

    She looks at books and takes them back into her arms, holding them close to her chest, she bows deep again, much to the amusement of the librarian, and heads home to pack.

    -

    There isn¡¯t really that much to pack, all she has are robes, her token, and a very slowly regenerating Qi stone. She wonders how she¡¯s going to prove her identity when she gets home? They aren¡¯t going to exactly let her in just because she claims to be of the Sol bloodline. Then again, Rakan might be able to grant them an audience, at which point she can give one of her siblings a pleasant surprise. She chuckles at the thought as she nears the sect''s edge, where Jorin is waiting with arms crossed.

    ¡°You are early,¡± He notes.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°So are you master,¡± she bows.

    He grunts, ¡°It¡¯s easy to be early when you don¡¯t have to sleep.¡±

    Tantra nods, she¡¯s started to notice that. She can¡¯t really measure time, she doesn¡¯t have a sundial, but it feels as though the amount she spends sleeping has lessened. Not at an alarming rate, just enough where the sun is peeking over the horizon rather than being level with it.

    ¡°Know that I do not approve of this, if you were going on your own, that would be one matter, but you risk your fellows by allowing them to join you on this journey.¡± he says.

    Tantra bows again, ¡°apologies master, but is it not the cultivators way to do as one wills? Who am I to stop them from joining me when that is their heartfelt desire?¡±

    ¡°You are a girl who should know better,¡± he replies, ¡°the world isn¡¯t as kind as our sect, even with the bandit raids, you risk them all for the sake of friendship. Know that when they die, it will be your burden to carry, and if they survive, it will be their triumph to hold.¡±

    Tantra looks down, ¡°we¡¯ll be fine, we have Rakan.¡±

    Jorin lets out a heavy sigh, ¡°you are willingly making yourself a fool disciple Tantra, I hope it¡¯ll be worth it in the end.¡±

    -

    All of them walk down a dirt path filled with brambles and thistles, new robes scraping against the receiving and reweaving the small gashes that are made. Jorin presented them with proper cultivators robes with array script woven into its interior, providing all the conveniences one might expect from clothing that will suffer battle and travel. They had all, in their excitement, found a tree to hide behind as they changed, much to Rakans amusement and Jorin¡¯s chagrin.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know clothing could get so soft,¡± Yorin marvels, ¡°what did they make this with.¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°most robes of this kind are made with linen, I¡¯m honestly surprised the sect was willing to part with them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s tradition,¡± Rakan says, ¡°all disciples get one for their first journey, as a gesture of good faith and an advertisement all at once.¡±

    Tantra tilts her head, ¡°when you put it that way it makes some kind of sense, the only problem is this sect can only be reached with the aid of a cultivator, so popularity will mean little for their recruitment ratios.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about recruitment.¡± Etra scoffs, ¡°It¡¯s about recognition! Someone will see our robes and tokens, and measure our sect by how much shit we can kill for them.¡±

    ¡°It is not always killing.¡± Kisrin points out.

    Etra rolls her eyes, ¡°what else would it be? It¡¯s literally our profession.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be,¡± Tantra interrupts, ¡°we could choose to be something else while we cultivate.¡±

    Etra raises a brow, ¡°and how pray tell, would we find the time to advance if we were to do that.¡±

    ¡°My life spans already double what it normally would be,¡± Tantra points out, ¡°the path can give us as much time as it takes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s assuming anyone would hire you, girl.¡± Rakan says, ¡°all the common folk are too afraid to take a cultivator under their wing. Even in foundation you could easily kill a mortal, and depending on where you live and who you killed, the law won¡¯t care much. No one is willing to risk that for the years an apprenticeship takes.¡±

    Etra just points to the man as though he¡¯s made a wonderful point.

    Tantra pouts, ¡°surely not all of them are cowards.¡±

    ¡°It is not cowardice,¡± Rakan says, ¡°It¡¯s good survival instincts¡±

    -

    A boar with serrated tusks and a mouth full of spittle charges at Tantra, she sidesteps the charge and swings her club at it, striking its side. The boar squeals as it swipes at her and manages a small but on her leg. Tantra grunts, takes a step back, then boosts her arms as she brings down the club like an omen of death. Brain matter and blood go flying as the boar''s skull is fully caved in. It takes a step forward as though not aware of it¡¯s death, then collapses to the ground.

    Tantra lets out a breath and shakes her exhausted arms, a little too much.

    ¡°And theirs breakfast,¡± Rakan claps, ¡°congratulations kid, couldn¡¯t have done it sloppier myself.¡±

    Tantra shakes off brain matter stuck to her club, ¡°I killed it, we have food, does the performance really matter?¡±

    ¡°Of course it does!¡± Yorin exclaims, ¡°aren¡¯t you the one who''s always talking about maintaining an image? Cultivators have to look cool!¡±

    Etra shrugs, ¡°crushing that thing''s skull was pretty cool.¡±

    ¡°Thank you¡±

    ¡°If only that was the first thing you did.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t want to waste Qi!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry Tantra,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°your execution of that innocent swine was most brutal and most impressive.¡±

    Rakan snorts, ¡°¡®impressive¡¯ sure.¡±

    Tantra mutters her grievances at the collection of fools.

 Ch.32:A Stroll Through The Woods

    The DarkWoods is many things, safe is not one of them.

    Then again that can apparently be attributed to most places in the world, if you were inclined to believe the words of master Jorin. Tantra is very much inclined so when Rakan announced a night watch she was one of the two that didn¡¯t groan in dissatisfaction. Rakan could, theoretically, manage their night watch for at least half the nights, he¡¯s awake right now after all, and perfectly peppy as he does his burpees. Which is apparently the perfect exercise for travel, how she didn¡¯t hear about this earlier she¡¯ll never know.

    It looks exhausting, especially because he¡¯s been doing it for the past hour. Doesn¡¯t he get tired? She knows that the body''s capabilities increase the more Qi you put in it, but this is kind of ridiculous. He isn¡¯t secretly flowing Qi through his meridians, is he? No, she hasn¡¯t heard of a technique to increase endurance, and if there was such a thing they would have been taught it.

    Crickets and Rakan, that¡¯s what''s keeping her company in this damp little corner of the world while the others sleep. Which is good, anything else would be an unwelcome disruption, and a potential danger.

    Eventually Rakan sits next to her and takes a swig of his water.

    ¡°Your shift¡¯s done,¡± Rakan says, ¡°go wake up Kisrin.¡±

    ¡°How do you know the mortals would be too scared?¡± Tantra asks.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Earlier, when we were talking, you said that mortals were too afraid to take a cultivator as their apprentice. How do you know?¡±

    He swishes the water of his wineskin as he considers her. It¡¯s deceptively expensive, dyed with arrays internally to collect Qi and convert it to water. He takes another swig.

    ¡°Wanted to try my hand at smithing once, when I got tired of all the blood.¡± He says, ¡°No master would take me, all saying some such bullshit about how they were too ¡®lowly¡¯ to teach one such as me. So I bought some normal peasant clothes and tried my hand then, got kicked out every time, saying I was too old to teach.¡±

    He chuckles as he takes another gulp of water, and lets out a contented sigh.

    ¡°Violence is the only friend we have, kid. It¡¯s a bitch but it¡¯s there, all throughout the journey, all the way to the end.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­depressing¡± Tantra says.

    He shrugs, ¡°learn to enjoy it, isn¡¯t so hard then.¡±

    ¡°My families a merchant company,¡± she says, ¡°we could sponsor you if you want.¡±

    He chuckles, ¡°you know, for how shrewd you can be, you''re surprisingly naive. All favors have a cost, especially for cultivators, I have no interest in leeching myself to some money focused scum, no offence.¡±

    ¡°None taken,¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry so much about it, cultivators live better lives than most. Our lives being filled with blood is a small sacrifice for a life of luxury.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t have to,¡± Tantra says, ¡°I¡¯m gonna be a merchant.¡±

    He lets out a small chuckle at that statement, ¡°I¡¯d think twice about that kid. I know you''re probably all about trusting family but they¡¯ll milk you dry and leave you to die once you¡¯ve stopped being a convenient tool.¡±

    ¡°You have a depressing outlook on life, teacher Rakan.¡± Tantra says.

    He shrugs, ¡°yeah well, living it has a tendency to do that. Go wake up Kisrin and get some sleep, kid, we can save the depressing shit for another time.¡±

    -

    To get out of the DarkWoods, they first have to walk deeper into it, to avoid trespassing into the territory of one of the greater beasts. There are quite a few because of how untamed the DarkWoods are, most foci have a city or two at its edges, and cultivators to cull the wildlife before they can become a threat. Here there are just the disparaged sects, bandits, and the tribes. She really hopes they don¡¯t run into any tribals, she has not heard good things.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°I want the dao of stone,¡± Yorin says happily, ¡°even bought a book from the library on it, something called petrography, really complicated but kind of interesting.¡±

    Kisrin shrugs as he walks through the foliage, ¡°It¡¯d be easier to just go for a weapon focused dao, since it''s something we¡¯re already learning.¡±

    ¡°But that just feels¡­lame,¡± Yorin says, ¡°why not add to what we have?¡±

    ¡°Bolstering our strengths is better than stretching ourselves thin,¡± Kisrin replies.

    ¡°You kids sure are getting ahead of yourselves huh?¡± Rakan says, ¡°you don¡¯t choose how the dao touches you¡­wait, that sounds wrong. You don¡¯t choose how the dao approaches you? Yeah, that¡¯s better. Better that way, more natural, and stronger too.¡±

    ¡°But it would be so cool to throw stones around, or make a suit of stone to fight in, or make stone spikes out of the ground.¡± Yorin babbles.

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°good luck with that, elemental daos are rare for a reason.¡±

    -

    ¡°That¡¯s a big monkey,¡± Yorin says.

    ¡°That,¡± Rakan says, pointing at the offending six foot spirit beast, ¡°Is an ape, it has no tail¡±

    ¡°Might have lost it when mutating,¡± Etra replies.

    ¡°What she said¡±

    Rakan sighs, ¡°that¡¯s not how mutations work, not at all.¡±

    ¡°How do you know, oh wise one, you study spirit beasts or something?¡± Etra says.

    ¡°I have actually, it¡¯s boring as fuck¡±

    ¡°Can¡­you¡­guys¡­shut¡­up¡± Tantra says as she weaves under a swing and boosts her club into its ribs, there''s a crunch, and the ape screeches, but it doesn¡¯t relent.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we help?¡± Kisrin says nervously.

    The three of them shrug.

    ¡°She¡¯ll be fine¡± Rakan says.

    -

    Tantra hisses as Rakan applies a bit of wine to the wound on her shoulder.

    ¡°Gonna have to watch that in case it gets infected,¡± he says, ¡°though your body shouldn¡¯t have too much of a problem fighting one off. Joys of a complete foundation¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t need to worry about an infection if you just helped,¡± Tantra grumbles.

    ¡°No, you wouldn¡¯t have to worry if you learned how to dodge.¡± Rakan points out, ¡°Honestly, that bite was so telegraphed it might as well have come tomorrow.¡±

    Tantra grumbles some more as the ape-thing leg is cooked on a spit, it was a pain to skin, its hide turned into something resembling bark. Which was lucky for Tantra ¡®cause blunt force trauma doesn¡¯t really care about armour. Not entirely true but it¡¯s close enough.

    ¡°It kinda feels wrong to eat,¡± Etra says as she chews through some meat, ¡°it was weird, but it looked so much like a person. Except for its face, and the fur.¡±

    ¡°Learn to get used to it,¡± Rakan says, ¡°Spirit beasts are a great source of Qi, and all you have to do it eat. some cultivators even turn to cannibalism to further their foundations¡±

    Yorin gags.

    ¡°Seriously?¡± Etra asks, ¡°that¡¯s fucked.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I had to fight one. Not fun, bit down on a chunk of my arm and ate it right in front of me. Luckily I wasn¡¯t the only cultivator there because she was horrifying, pretty sure she had a connection with the dao of hunger.¡± Rakan says

    A shiver ripples through the children

    ¡°How many journeys have you been on?¡± Kisrin asks, curious.

    ¡°This would be my fifth,¡± he says, ¡°and i''m one of the more conservative of the disciples, keeping them to just a few years. Some disciples take decades before they return to the sect, one of the first disciple hasn¡¯t been back for little over a century, only reason we know he¡¯s still alive is because his token¡¯s active.¡±

    ¡°How old are you?¡± Tantra queries.

    The man shrugs, ¡°thirty four¡±

    ¡°Huh, you don¡¯t look a day over twenty,¡± Etra says.

    ¡°That is how cultivation works, yes.¡± He says blandly

    -

    ¡°Tantra, can we hurry it up please?¡± Etra whines.

    ¡°No!¡± She says, ¡°you have no idea how expensive these are, I¡¯m going to harvest all of them.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a bunch of mushrooms.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s DarkWoods Lifecaps, and they go for a thousand merits each back at the sect! I can only imagine how much gold we¡¯ll be drowning in once we find a proper city. Rakan! use that special storage of yours to keep them pristine, we don¡¯t have the proper tools.¡±

    Rakan looks on bemused, ¡°alright kid.¡±

    ¡°Are you seriously going along with this?¡± Etra asks.

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°we¡¯re going to need the money, we only have merits, and that¡¯s worth a whole lot of nothing outside the sect¡±

    Etra grumbles, ¡°how does she even know how expensive those are?¡±

    Yorin chuckles, ¡°Tantra memorized all the prices when she was still foraging to get a Qi stone.¡±

    ¡°Right, forgot about her fucked soul, how¡¯d she even get to foundation in a year anyway?¡± Etra asks.

    ¡°Do the control exercises and maybe I¡¯ll tell you.¡± Rakan says.

    -

    ¡°Tantra, are you hiding?¡± Rakan asks

    ¡°No,¡± She replies.

    ¡°It¡¯s just a bird.¡± He says

    ¡°That thing is not a bird, and I refuse to fight it.¡±

    Rakan sighs and manifests his club, ¡°fine¡±

 Ch.33:A Traipse Around Trees

    Traveling as a cultivator is an annoyingly long process. Until they reach Rakan¡¯s level at least. The reason is quite simple, they still have to cultivate and train. Tantra maintains a constant motion with her club, up, diagonal slash, up, diagonal slash. A perfect figure eight.

    Apparently not for Rakan.

    ¡°Too slow,¡± he says, ¡°I can see a dozen openings to break through in just the last few seconds.¡±

    Tantra grunts as she doesn¡¯t stop swinging, ¡°not¡­fair¡±

    ¡°Yeah well, tell that to someone with my cultivation as they puncture your lungs.¡± He says, ¡°you¡¯re only on the first step of a long and vast journey, kid. Most cultivators out in the world have the years under their belt to crush you, you¡¯ve gotta compensate with skill.¡±

    ¡°Easy¡­just¡­avoid¡­bandits,¡± Tantra says.

    Rakan snorts, ¡°you think those are the only people you have to worry about? We might all be under the watchful gaze of Rikidan, but cultivators will be cultivators, and we¡¯ll find a reason to fight if we really want one.¡±

    ¡°But¡­why?¡± She asks.

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°honour, prestige, for the fun of it? Does it really matter? in the end there will be fights I can¡¯t protect you from, assuming I even care enough to do so.¡±

    ¡°Sounds¡­stupid.¡± She says.

    ¡°Yeah, that sounds about right, I¡¯m one of those idiots that fights for fun though so you should really watch what you say.¡± Rakan says.

    Tantra snorts, which interrupts her delicate balance of breaths as she swings, causing her to have too slow down to catch it again. In that time, Rakan appeared in front of her and punched her hard in the sternum.

    She wheezes as she collapses to the floor.

    Rakan waits for her to catch her breath and get back to her feet.

    ¡°Why did you do that?¡± She scowls.

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°for the fun of it mostly, but also to prove a point. See how easy it was for me to render you helpless? There are cultivators out there much stronger than I am who won''t even need you to fumble to get such a perfect opening¡±

    ¡°How am I expected to match you?¡± She raves, ¡°you have decades on my cultivation.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not training you to match me kid, I¡¯m training you to survive me.¡± Rakan says, ¡°and you¡¯d be surprised by how many stories there are of the little guy beating a well established cultivator.¡±

    ¡°Those are just stories,¡± Tantra points out.

    ¡°Yeah, and most are embellished. But a few are based on true stories, like that bard song about Kikir.¡± He says.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    Rakan raises a brow, ¡°haven¡¯t heard it? It should be pretty popular, even in Ralth, what, never been to a bar?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thirteen¡±

    ¡°So?¡±

    -

    Yorin takes a bite out of the unseasoned meat.

    ¡°I miss rice,¡± he grumbles.

    Tantra raises a brow as she swallows her own piece ¡°It¡¯s barely been a week. Besides, living off the land is very cultivatory, isn¡¯t that your inclination?¡±

    ¡°Not if it¡¯s for sacrificing rice.¡± He replies.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Tantra chuckles as Rakan rolls his eyes and Yorin pouts. She doesn¡¯t want to admit that she can sympathise with Yorins point, she misses noodles very much. But she¡¯s a realist, and prepared herself for going without, unlike one specific idealist.

    ¡°I can¡¯t wait to get home,¡± Yorin says, ¡°my mom can make the best rice this side of Testhim, just you wait, you¡¯ll renounce your silly noodles once you get a taste.¡±

    Tantra scoffs, ¡°¡®renounce¡¯? What, now that you¡¯ve learned the big words you¡¯ve decided to add them to your vocabulary?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the one who taught me them!¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°true, it just doesn¡¯t really fit your whole image.¡±

    Yorin rolls his eyes, ¡°and what might that image be oh magnanimous Tantra?¡±

    ¡°The lovable buffoon¡± she says simply.

    Yorin squints hard at her, ¡°I¡¯m just going to ignore the last part of what you just said.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s not wrong though,¡± Kisrin adds, ¡°you do have a tendency towards idiocy.¡±

    ¡°But I haven¡¯t even done anything!¡± He whines.

    ¡°You have a mouth,¡± Etra points out, ¡°and what comes out of it is more than enough.¡±

    Yorin takes a big bite out of the mole meat and grumbles, ¡°you guys are bullies.¡±

    ¡°Lovable bullies,¡± Tantra adds.

    He swallows, ¡°True, but still bullies.¡±

    A slight chuckle ripples through them and Rakan looks on bemused. It¡¯s been a while since he¡¯s seen camaraderie like this among cultivators, it happens, sure, but it¡¯s more the exception rather than the rule. Different cultivators advance differently, and those above tend to abandon those below for the sake of that ever present progress. That kind of environment makes it difficult to cultivate friendships, ironically enough. Cultivators can do anything but maintain a social circle.

    ¡°You know, I never thought of it before, but why do they call it the DarkWoods? It isn¡¯t particularly dark in comparison to a normal forest,¡± Kisrin points out.

    ¡°It¡¯s because of the void wraiths,¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°The what?¡±

    ¡°Void Wraiths, there¡¯s plenty of them at the centre, no one really knows how or why, but their there.¡±

    Etra raises a brow, ¡°aren¡¯t wraiths only supposed to exist on recent battlefields?¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°The going theory is that the DarkWoods was a battlefield, at one point, and the Qi of the centre maintains the wraiths.¡±

    ¡°Should we be worried about them?¡±

    Rakan snorts, ¡°looking to travel to the centre of a foci already kid? Bold, and stupid.¡±

    ¡°Well we¡¯re going deeper right?¡± He points out, ¡°what if we run into one?¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t,¡± Tantra says, ¡°the DarkWoods isn¡¯t so small that a month''s worth of travel would take us to its heart.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Kisrin asks, ¡°the Qi already feels pretty dense.¡±

    ¡°The Qi that radiates from a foci is practically solid,¡± Rakan says, ¡°at least that¡¯s what master Jorin told me. Never checked because I don¡¯t have a death wish.¡±

    ¡°Huh,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°why don¡¯t more cultivators just train a decent distance from a foci then? With this amount of Qi they should be able to expand their cores ridiculously fast.¡±

    ¡°Why don¡¯t you go ask the tribals that question¡± Rakan replies, ¡°assuming they don¡¯t just kill you.¡±

    ¡°Are they really that bad?¡± Yorin asks.

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°no, but they¡¯re territorial, and very wary of outsiders. That makes them more likely to take a violent approach to, from their perspective, protect their homes.¡±

    -

    The rate of Tantra¡¯s gathering is half again as good as when she started little over a year ago. Which is a pace that isn¡¯t matching the growth of her core. Unfortunately the control exercises don¡¯t have much relevance to taking Qi from the world. It¡¯s not about control, it¡¯s about convincing reality that the Qi is yours, then you have to filter it through into your core, which is a control relevant step, but it¡¯s not nearly as important as the first. Luckily the Qi is thick enough here to where she doesn¡¯t really need to worry about running out. She might never have a full core, but she can still store a decent amount.

    The other benefit of being closer to a foci is her little breathing mutation. She never really noticed it before, it being miniscule enough as to not attract attention. But now? Here? The Qi is so thick that she can¡¯t not notice it. She can feel the roots of her foundations dig deeper and deeper just from sitting here, and it¡¯s started to affect her in other ways. She¡¯s marginally stronger here, and she only needs half as much sleep as she would normally. The others got extremely curious by how she¡¯d been slowly needing less and less sleep the deeper they traveled, so she had to fess up about her mutation.

    Rakan didn¡¯t seem particularly pleased, ¡°fuck,¡± he had said eloqently, ¡°we need to pick up the pace.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Yorin says, ¡°Isn¡¯t this a good thing?¡±

    ¡°What she just described is how normal animals become spirit beasts. I have no interest in turning my student into a beast-blood.¡±

    ¡°But I haven¡¯t changed at all, and I¡¯ve been like this for almost a year.¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°If normal Qi density could mutate an animal then we¡¯d only have spirit beasts.¡± Rakan bit back, ¡°C¡¯mon kids, walking¡¯s over, we need to get out.¡±

 Ch.34:It Can Smell You

    Jogging in a field and jogging through the woods are not at all the same thing. The ground isn¡¯t flat here, and some points are dubious to tread due to mud or carnivorous plant life. They have to weave through trees, both standing and fallen, avoiding roots and bramble as they get deeper and deeper into the DarkWoods.

    She¡¯s handling herself surprisingly well though. Even for the fact that she¡¯s in foundation. Five hours in and she¡¯s not even winded, while she can hear her friends panting behind her. It¡¯s probably the Qi she reasons, that lovely, lovely Qi. It¡¯s feeding her body with energy that supersedes oxygen by miles, working through every muscle, bone, and organ. Her foundations are getting noticeably better, she can feel it. Every step the Qi works eagerly through her body to fill in the gaps. It¡¯s almost as good as her blood infusion.

    In more ways than one.

    Blood infusion gives small bursts of ecstasy with every clump of Qi she feeds her blood. This? This is like a never ending wave of subdued euphoria. Five hours, and she feels great. Like divinity itself has inhabited her body, like the dao of good vibes is coursing through her veins, like bathing in liquid ambrosia.

    It is overwhelming.

    If she didn¡¯t know that she¡¯d turn into a beast-blood, she¡¯d probably stay a few months just to savour the feeling. She has nothing against beast-bloods, Karaz was one after all, and she¡­she deserved better than what she got. Writhing in agony from an infection to the guts was too harsh a death for someone as lively and innocent as her. If anything is proof of the cruelty of the world it would be that, and the multitude of disciples that died because the Elders did nothing.

    Some anger flares at that thought, but also a touch of complacent sadness.

    What is she going to do? Give cultivators multiple realms above her and centuries worth of experience a piece of her mind? There are easier ways to die.

    But back to the point, she has nothing against beast-bloods, but that¡¯s not the same for most of the population of Rikidan. It is no secret that they are considered tainted or cursed, it¡¯s actually openly talked about.

    It¡¯s an image problem.

    She can¡¯t be a merchant and a beast-blood, it just wouldn¡¯t work. The only customers that¡¯d be willing to trade are the Underground, and they aren¡¯t the most reliable trading partners, considering it¡¯s a collection of cities used by the bandit clans as neutral territory. Otherwise maybe the tribals? It would be hard to drive a merchant caravan near a foci though, and that¡¯s assuming they¡¯d even be willing to talk.

    Point being, merchant life and beast-bloods just don¡¯t mix.

    Which means they should really start going away from the foci instead of towards it, but Rakan¡¯s the one who charted their route so she just has to hope that they¡¯ll start distancing themselves soon. Speaking of Rakan, he¡¯s absolutely covered in blood. Not his, but of the many beasts he¡¯s taken detours to crush with his club, it¡¯s kind of surreal, one second he¡¯s there, the next he has his club bearing down on some offending beast that got too close.

    Luckily the robes he¡¯s wearing can clean itself because that is an impressive amount of blood they¡¯re absorbing right now.

    -This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    ¡°Good¡± a stone cracking steel says to the boy bleeding profusely on the floor. Panting on his hands and knees. ¡°You¡¯ve progressed admirably Falthom, truly it is a masters pride to see their disciples progress so swiftly.¡±

    ¡°Yes master,¡± Fathom says between gasps.

    The gleaming sculpture tilts its head, it shrugs then kicks the boy in the ribs, sending him flying into a pillar. ¡°If you can talk, you can fight, boy.¡±

    -

    Lotus stance is unnecessarily uncomfortable for a meditation stance. Yet it is the stance Rashia takes whenever she has the opportunity to, which is getting rarer and rarer considering the greater beasts are starting to move. They¡¯re likely due for a beast tide soon, a shame it would be so close to the new initiates. She looks over to the dozen or so bodies swinging their swords, maybe she could convince the master to let her send a few of her disciples this time? It¡¯s possible, they only have little over two hundred with the new additions.

    A lightly muscled man with wild black hair and deep purple robes with the countenance of an eccentric walks into her hall. She doesn¡¯t see him with her eyes of course, those are closed, considering her meditation. She sees him with her aura, a complicated technique that she¡¯s only just managed to make applicable to battle, in the last decade or so. It lets her see him completely, not just the limited vision biology would grant her, she can see the little twitches that indicate a breakthrough, can see how his Qi roils, like a book on the verge of bursting open. He¡¯s close, so very close, if only he spent more time on his cultivation.

    ¡°What is it Vozen?¡± the drawing of the blade says.

    ¡°I did It master Rathia!¡± He says excitedly, ¡°I finally made it work. It took a while but with the right scripts and organization anything is possible! Now I just need to downsize-¡±

    ¡°Vozen,¡± the sliding blade interrupts, amused, ¡°slow down, I don¡¯t even know what you¡¯re talking about right now.¡±

    He gathers himself from his twitchy excitement and coughs into his hand like a presenter clearing their throat, ¡°well, master Rathia, I¡¯ve managed to do a partial conversion of Qi in a new meditation room, all we need now is to advertise the benefits to the disciples and we can embark on a new path. I¡¯m thinking of calling it acclimation.¡±

    ¡°Hmmmm,¡± the cutting of air says, ¡°that¡¯s good. Very good. Once again you have proven your worth Vozen. Don¡¯t let any disciples enter now, I and the other masters will discuss in our next meeting before moving forward.¡±

    He puts a fist in his palm and bows.

    ¡°Of course master,¡± He says.

    -

    It smells something.

    Something sweet and savoury.

    Meat untainted yet filled with vitality. It licks the chops of its very large mouth. Its head has grown. Its eyes used to be on the front of its head, but with the swelling of the skull they shifted to be on the side. That¡¯s okay, it can see through scent now, and feel through sound. It has become such a wonderful thing of many limbs and voracious violence. It¡¯s claws dig deep into the earth as it pushes the life/change into its legs and bursts into motion. The scent is not close, but they are not moving fast either, it will be a simple hunt for it, and such delectable treats will be its reward. It crosses the territory of the Many-Serpent and the Dove-Of-Eyes, not worried about retaliation from such weak creatures. It bounds through the forest, and anything too slow to move, or foolish enough to get in it¡¯s way is run through by one of its spine-pikes and fed to a mouth that is much too big and filled with too much teeth, ground down into paste before they fall into its gullet.

    They all taste the same, filled with a life that is wrong, twisted, misaligned. Like biting into something that has bitter undertones to an otherwise perfect meal. The ones who aren¡¯t changed just taste bland, so it leaves them alone, to grow into something worth tasting and eating. It is rare for the Pure Ones to be so close, rare for them to dare enter the radius of its nose, but every now and then one who is either foolish or bold will come, and it will feast. It can smell that this is more than one, truly a day worth commemorating!

    It¡¯s getting closer, it can see/smell them through the woods, can practically taste them. A geyser of water gushes through its mouth as it salivates in anticipation. How long has it been since a good meal? Since satisfaction? Too many seasons, it knows, too many seasons indeed.

    It crashes through branches and bramble, crashing in front of its prey like a meteor sent from the heavens. They stop and freeze in fear, It takes a deep whiff of their scent.

    Mmmmh.

    It smiles and it does not look like a smile because its mouth does not look like a mouth, it gets on its hindmost legs and lets out a deafening roar.

 Ch.35:Would You Like A Flower?

    There is no noise.

    Silence is the only sound that pervades the forest as the thing gets down on the rest of its limbs, sniffing at them with a nose that is split in two as what was perhaps a mouth extends to the sinuses. Its mouth looks like a flower, blooming petals of flesh and teeth, on a head that has grown and contorted to fit its massive size. It has fur, and skin, but it looks like steel. It walks on eight limbs on a body that was extended to accommodate, out of its back sprouts a mess of bone spears, joints and muscle allowing for precise movement.

    Perhaps, a long time ago, the thing in front of them could have been recognized as a bear. Now it is a horror of biology and violence.

    The thing sniffs the air as it approaches then, Rakan does not move, none of them do. It walks up to Yorin and extends a tongue out of the flower-mouth, giving his face a gentle lick. Yorin doesn¡¯t seem to appreciate the gesture, shivering in a primal kind of fear that can only be present when in the sights of an apex predator. The bear-thing laughs, then it goes to bite off his head.

    In the instant before Yorin would have lost his head, Rakan is there, and hits the beast as hard as he can, the sound of club on skull reverberates through the forest. The bear-thing lets out a squeal of delight and goes to jab Rakan with multiple bone spears, he weaves between then, grabs Yorin, then throws him aside. Tantra is staring at the two titans as they clash, Rakan dodging and swinging his club, the bear-thing standing on four pairs of limbs as it rears up and assaults Rakan with a flurry of paws and claws. Rakan dodges one, dodges two, but the third strikes him in the side and sends him flying into a tree. Throughout all of this the bear thing is squealing with joy out of its flower mouth. It charges Rakan as he struggles to his feet to continue its assault.

    Tantra is shaken out of her daze when she sees Etra run towards the bear-thing. Tantra blinks, then boosts her legs with all she can, tackling the girl to the ground.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Tantra hisses.

    ¡°Helping him!¡± Etra says, ¡°he¡¯s gonna die at this rate.¡±

    ¡°And so will you!¡±

    ¡°If that thing kills Rakan then we¡¯re all dead anyway, I¡¯d rather die fighting.¡± Etra argues.

    Tantra¡¯s mind blanks, trying to find some way to get out of this alive. The only thing she can think of is driving the thing off, but how much can they even help with that? She can barely follow what''s happening as it is, but she doesn¡¯t have any other options.

    She lets Etra go, ¡°fine, but let me go first, and only join if its safe.¡±

    Etra huffs, but nods under Tantra¡¯s intense glare.

    Tantra takes a deep breath, sending a thread to each leg and charging in silence covered by the sounds of struggle. Rakan has been pawed around a few times, and while it¡¯s obvious the thing is just playing with him, he can still follow and deliver his own strikes. That¡¯s what''s important, she just has to hope this thing isn¡¯t so advanced that it can shrug off the blows Rakan delivers.

    She brings up her club and readies herself to strike a knee-

    She is jabbed by three bone limbs, puncturing through her soft human flesh and coming out the other side. The thing just flings her aside into a tree. She coughs out blood, then coughs out some more, then a lot more.

    Fuck, she thinks through tears.

    It punctured her lungs. Tantra gets up on shaky legs and continues to cough out blood, trying to take whatever breaths she can, but air simply escapes them. The Qi however, doesn¡¯t.

    She stumbles forward and someone grabs onto her.

    ¡°Tantra!¡± A voice she recognizes as Yorins cuts through her thoughts, he really shouldn¡¯t be here, he¡¯ll die here. ¡°Oh my gods, are you okay?¡±You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    She tries to say something but all that comes out is a cough and some blood, landing straight on Yorins robes. Damn, that¡¯s rude, not fitting behavior for a merchant at all. She goes to say sorry but only gets more blood on his robes. She grumbles internally, this¡¯ll ruin her image. Well, a part of her says, your not going to live long enough for it to matter.

    Oh shut up.

    She just needs a moment.

    Yeah, just a moment.

    She lets out a few more coughs and goes to look at the bear-thing. Kisrin and Etra are both dueling with their own bone spears while Rakan, it seems, has decided to ramp up his boosting. She can¡¯t even see him, just blurs and the sounds of crunching bone. The bear-thing is actually being pushed back, to its delight, fucking weirdo.

    She really need to focus.

    She goes to take a deep breath, suffering through a few more coughs, but the Qi gives her clarity, and it subsides some of the pain. Yorin is saying something, but she can¡¯t hear him, the only thing occupying her focus being the bear-thing.

    She boosts her legs and charges again.

    This time she expects the spikes, and ducks under them. She sends two massive threads to her arms and boosts with all she has, hitting the back of one of the bear-thing¡¯s kneecaps. It doesn¡¯t break, but it does stumble, which gives an opening for Rakan to start wailing on its head. A spike pierces her shoulder and flings her aside again.

    She gets back up and charges, hitting the same knee.

    Spike, fling.

    Charge, knee.

    Spike, fling.

    Charge-

    There is a crunch as the knee breaks. Tantra, skewered thing that she¡¯s become, coughs with joy. It is quickly replaced with pain as a paw the size of her body swipes her aside and cuts deep into her flesh. She goes flying and crashes into a tree. She thumps to the ground and tries to get up.

    Huh, she can¡¯t seem to do that.

    Weird.

    She looks to her left arm.

    There is no arm, just meat, gristle, and bone.

    Oh that¡¯s not very good.

    That¡¯s not very good at all.

    She flops to her back and considers her arm. That¡¯s a lot of red, and a good amount of white, It looks like the muscles¡¯ll be quite useless. Ah well, she has her other arm. She grips her club and sits up, feeling a monumental amount of pain from her chest as she coughs some more. She looks down.

    Huh, her robes are torn.

    So is her flesh but the important thing is her robes.

    How is she supposed to show her face to anyone dressed like this? Ah wait, repair scripts, forgot about those. Handy, very handy. Well, up we go!

    She wobbles to her feet and looks at the bear-thing, still fighting Rakan, honestly, what a pain in the ass. Couldn¡¯t this thing have just left them alone? All they wanna do is cross the forest, is that some sort of crime now?

    You know what?

    Fuck this bear.

    -

    Rakan won¡¯t be able to last much longer, with his guts trailing the forest floor and his body punctured to the hells and back, but he doesn¡¯t need much longer. The bastards started protecting its head, which means he¡¯s getting close to caving it in, beasts this strong don¡¯t protect something unless they have to. Fucking monsters. They must be off from their route, because this thing shouldn¡¯t be anywhere near it. Consequences of rushing and not navigating properly. He lets out a cough of blood as he ducks past another paw. Beasts aren¡¯t like humans, they¡¯re all brute force and no technique, making them very predictable. Well, except for Divine beasts, but if they met one they¡¯d just be dead so it wouldn¡¯t matter much if it can fight with flourish.

    He hits its head again and hears a crack.

    He smiles and dodges another pair of paws.

    Then, suddenly, he is met with his student riding the bear as she bashes in its skull, cackling and coughing.

    He blinks.

    Is that Tantra?

    Hard to tell through all the blood, but he¡¯s pretty sure it is.

    Damn, she must have really hit her head one of the times she was thrown around like a wet, ¡®cause what she¡¯s doing is insane.

    None of the spikes can seem to stab her as they aren¡¯t designed to point inwards, the bear tries to shake her off, but whenever it does he rewards it with a fully infused club the the face. He smiles, as the bear rages in confusion. Trying desperately to get one of them away from his head.

    Eventually, there is a crack.

    Then another.

    Then the skull caves it.

    The bear goes limp and the girl falls off, struggling on wobbling feet as she walks towards him.

    ¡°Good job kid,¡± Rakan says as he pushes his guts back into his stomach. Qi¡¯ll heal it, it¡¯ll just take a while.

    Tantra smiles wide with teeth stained crimson.

    Then she passes out.

 Ch.36:Chess With An Old Friend

    ¡°Damn girl!¡± Karaz says as she moves her pawn forward two squares, ¡°don¡¯t you feel pain? That big ass bear just turns you into a skewer and you what? Jump on its back and start bashing in its head? You remind me of the berserkers back at the tribe.¡±

    Tantra looks shamefaced down at the board as she moves her own pawn two squares, ¡°I was just trying to survive.¡±

    ¡°And do it in the most brutal way possible,¡± Karaz cackles, moving her knight to up two and to the left, ¡°honestly, who would¡¯ve thought my sweet little junior would become such a brute.¡±

    Tantra moves her own night behind her pawn, ¡°I¡¯m no brute, I¡¯m a proper lady! I just¡­had a moment.¡±

    ¡°What a moment it was!¡± Karaz moves a pawn within range of hers, ¡°So much blood! So much gore! I wish I was actually there to have seen it.¡±

    Tantra grunts as she eats her pawn, ¡°I was heavily concussed for most of it so I didn¡¯t really notice.¡±

    Karaz takes out her pawn with the knight, ¡°you¡¯d be surprised, the brain is great at remembering traumatic events.¡±

    ¡°And you would know that how?¡± Tantra says as she moves a pawn forward.

    Karaz sends her second knight diagonally behind her first, ¡°Trust me ¡®Tantan¡¯, I know plenty about trauma.¡±

    Tantra sighs as she moves her bishop one square to corner her knights, ¡°of course you do, and only Ranya calls me Tantan.¡±

    ¡°How is she by the by,¡± She moves her bishop, ¡°It¡¯s been a while, I¡¯m curious on how the gals have been¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re okay,¡± Tantra shrugs as she moves her second knight, ¡°weren¡¯t doing so great after you died though. Ranya was¡­well I didn¡¯t know at first honestly, she kinda kept to herself. Then she came up to me all ready to go on a crusade for vengeance. That kid really cared for you.¡±

    Karaz gives a sad smile as she moves her second bishop, ¡°Yeah, I know. She¡¯s a good apple that one, has a tendency to be fucking annoying though.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let her hear you say that.¡± Tantra says as she swaps a rook and her king, ¡°she¡¯d come all the way here just to kick your ass.¡±

    They both share a chuckle.

    ¡°And what about Sola?¡± Karaz asks.

    ¡°She avoided me for a bit, but not for long. She sprung back a lot faster than Ranya but I¡¯m pretty sure that¡¯s because she¡¯s older,¡± Tantra says.

    Karaz ¡®hmms¡¯ as she moves a pawn forward, ¡°that idiots good at hiding her pain, hope she finds someone to talk to now that I¡¯m gone¡±

    Tantra raises a brow and moves her queen to corner Karaz¡¯s first knight, ¡°she has plenty of friends.¡±

    ¡°I meant someone close to talk to, about feelings and shit,¡± Karaz moves a bishop back ¡°cultivators are all about being rough and tough, finding someone to vent your feelings on can be hard.¡±

    ¡°What about Ranya?¡± Tantra moves a pawn.

    ¡°Too young,¡± Karaz moves her bishop, ¡°and checkmate¡±

    Tantra looks stunned at the board, ¡°how did I not see that?¡±

    Karaz shrugs, ¡°brain damage and profuse blood loss¡±

    Tantra just keeps staring at the board,

    ¡°Hey Karaz?¡±

    ¡°Mhm?¡±

    ¡°Am I dead?¡±

    Karaz chuckles, ¡°silly Tantan, of course you¡¯re not dead. Your brain¡¯s still firing its little neurons to make this comfy dream for us to play a game of chess that makes no sense. I¡¯m not not really Karaz and none of this is really real, all just a fabrication.¡±

    Tantra blinks, ¡°Really?¡±This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°Really¡±

    ¡°But it feels so real,¡± Tantra says.

    Karaz waves her off, ¡°that''s how all dreams feel.¡±

    Tantra taps her chin, ¡°guess I should wake up then.¡±

    ¡°Yes, you should,¡± Karaz nods, ¡°tell your friends I said hi.¡±

    -

    The first thing she noticed when waking up was how floaty everything feels.

    The second was how full of blood her lungs were.

    She turns to her side and starts hacking out globs of blood, someone is talking, many someones are talking in fact, she doesn¡¯t give them any attention as she keeps trying to get the blood out. Each cough shakes her whole body, aggravating so many wounds all at once that she might have whimpered if she could do anything other than cough. She gets to her hand (the left one is currently hanging limp) and knees, letting streams of blood fly  it¡¯s way out of her lungs.

    ¡°Still alive kid?¡± Says a voice she recognizes as Rakan.

    She gives a thumps up in his general direction, which causes him to chuckle.

    ¡°Well good, thought you wouldn¡¯t be waking up, even with your foundations you took a lot of damage.¡±

    ¡°Says the person who¡¯s literally holding their guts in,¡± Etra says blandly.

    ¡°My roots are much deeper than hers, besides, gut wounds are easy to survive, just a pain to heal.¡±

    Meanwhile Tantra is still coughing.

    ¡°We got some bear meat for you!¡± Yorin says happily, ¡°It should help you heal.¡±

    Bless his little heart.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll be able to eat considering all the coughing,¡± Kisrin says.

    Yorin, not at all considering the obvious complication, gives an affronted look that causes Tantra to chuckle-cough.

    ¡°Karaz¡­says¡­hi.¡± She manages before passing out again.

    -

    Once Tantra woke up and could walk, which was only after a few hours, they got on their way again. Despite the two fighters being very injured and very much out of Qi. Apparantle in their rush they headed too far west, missing the point they should have turned north, and are now in unknown territory because no one from the sect actually comes this deep to chart the waters as they say. Tantra¡¯s pretty sure her body sustained itself fully on Qi while her lungs were leaking blood and air, how does she know this? Well, firstly it''s the only possibility, sure foundation freaks can survive a lot, but a double puncture, at her depth? Yeah, no. Secondly, her skin is starting to turn grey, a clear sign of Qi poisoning. Her body is somehow breathing in more Qi to compensate for her lack of actual breathing, which is a horrifying thought, how does that work? She thought the amount was static.

    Although combined with the impressive amount of damage she took, she¡¯ll come out of this much more durable at least. She can feel it more than ever, the punctures to her body, her mangled arm, chest, and abdomen, all being filled with Qi. It¡¯s harder to scar the deeper your roots, but she¡¯s pretty sure she¡¯s earned a few more after that fight.

    Damn, she¡¯s starting to become a canvas, isn¡¯t she?

    She doesn¡¯t really like that thought, at least her robes will cover most of the damage, once they¡¯ve repaired themselves, not all though. The linen masterpieces they received were of a sleeveless persuasion, probably to save on said linen. Which means when her pulped arm heals back it¡¯ll be on display for all to see.

    Just like her neck.

    She goes to sigh, but instead she coughs.

    This is starting to get annoying.

    -

    It¡¯s only when she measures each claw mark under the moon''s gaze does she realize something rather profound.

    ¡°Hey Etra, have I gotten taller?¡±

    Etra looks at her from her spot in the river and scrunches her brow, ¡°yeah, you haven¡¯t noticed?¡±

    ¡°Well, no, I don¡¯t normally measure myself.¡± Tantra replies.

    Etra snorts, ¡°what kind of self respecting cultivator doesn¡¯t know their own height? I¡¯m five four, if you were wondering.¡±

    ¡°I wasn''t,¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°Well fuck you too then.¡±

    -

    Tantra doubles over as she loses control of the threads again. She¡¯s lasting longer though, just a little bit each time, though that might just be wishful thinking. Having little to nothing to do when it isn¡¯t her turn on watch means she has a lot of time to train, a whole night in fact. Which is concerning because this is the fifth night in a row where she hasn¡¯t needed sleep, not even Rakan can do that if he pushed himself, yet she feels perfectly refreshed.

    Because of the Qi.

    The rate at which she gathers has gone down, a bit, but it¡¯s closer to the high than it is to the low. Her skins even started to turn grey in what she hopes is Qi poisoning and not a mutation. She didn¡¯t know all it took was to force her body to adapt by getting both lungs skewered would increase the rate at which her body breathes in Qi. She would still never do it, but its interesting. It means that her mutation isn¡¯t static, it can change, which is a good thing overall but not so much when she¡¯s as close as she is to a foci. Luckily the density has started to lessen as they traveled north, but she¡¯s still getting more than she was before the bear attack, which is miles away at this point.

    It should only take another week of walking, much to her and Rakans chagrin.

    They¡¯d both rather run.

    Neither of them can.

 Ch.37:Honoured Cultivator, Your Guts Are Showing

    Tantra knows all about first impressions.

    They are, universally, the one that sticks the most in someone''s mind. You can change how they feel about you but that first encounter will always reign in their subconscious, like the canvas from which you paint upon. Merchants are all about good first impressions, it¡¯s the difference between a sale and a customer walking out to spread rather bad rumors about your service. So she¡¯s learned a lot about how to make the best first impression she can, mostly through formalities.

    ¡°Greetings honoured guard¡± Tantra says happily, blood soaking her robes (not the good ones, those are still repairing) and teeth, Rakan standing behind her holding his guts in his stomach. The poor man smells terribly because of the offal, but it¡¯s healing well enough. Now the openings¡¯ only half what it was, which is still enough that his intestines will hang from his abdomen if he¡¯s not holding it back. ¡°Might you direct us to the market? we have plenty of pelts to sell.¡±

    The guard, at this point, is sweating like he¡¯s in a desert, faced with five cultivators, two of which look like they had a bad encounter with a terrorclaw. Which is just as intended! Tantra couldn¡¯t manage the normal polite/formal approach because of, well, all the blood. But what she can manage is the image of the big bad cultivators regarding massive injuries with barely a thought. Which is its own kind of first impression.

    The guard bows, which is awkward with his spear, he doesn¡¯t really look like a guard, more like a peasant dressed in leather and placed at the entrance. He¡¯s quite young too, must be more of an early warning system than actual protection.

    ¡°Gr-greetings honoured cultivator,¡± he stutters and bows, ¡°I-this one would be honoured to guide you and your fellow honoured cultivators to our humble market¡±

    ¡°No need for that,¡± Tantra waves him off, ¡°you can keep your watch and we can be on our way, just give us a direction and we-¡± a cough, with a slight amount of blood, ¡°we can find our way¡±

    ¡°Apologies honoured cultivator this one would of course be honoured to-¡±

    ¡°Just get to the part where you give us a direction,¡± Rakan says, ¡°all this formality makes me nauseous.¡±

    Etra gives him a raised brow, ¡°you sure that¡¯s not from the hanging guts?¡±

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°might be.¡±

    ¡°Sincerest apologies, honoured cultivators, the market is slightly to the west-of-centre, in that direction.¡± He points behind him.

    ¡°Good man,¡± Tantra says with a smile that makes him shudder in fear, ¡°well then? Let¡¯s be on our way.¡±

    -

    ¡°It¡¯s insulting!¡± Tantra raves as the crowd gives them plenty of space, ¡°they didn¡¯t even try to get a good deal, just smiling and agreeing with whatever I charged. Do they not have any professional pride?!?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re villagers.¡± Etra says blandly, ¡°and a cultivator covered in blood followed by one with his guts hanging outside his body walked in and started talking sales for spirit beast pelts, one of which they definitely couldn¡¯t afford. What? Did you expect them to haggle?¡±

    Tantra grumbles out her dissatisfaction, ¡°It hurts my merchant heart, I just took the intricate process of making a deal and shattered it with a hammer.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to keep my guts on the inside next time,¡± Rakan chuckles. ¡°Though I think you¡¯ll find only city folk are willing to haggle with cultivators.¡±

    Tantra pouts as she opens the doors to what is supposed to be an inn. Joyful conversation and merry banter stop abruptly with their entrance. There are a few beats of silence before all five of them stand from their seats and bow deep.

    ¡°¡±This one greets the honoured cultivators!¡±¡± They all speak at once.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Sit back down, which one of you is the innkeeper?¡± Tantra says, annoyed.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    They pale a bit and all but one takes their seat.

    ¡°This one is the humble innkeeper honoured cultivators.¡± The man says, still bowed and with sweat running down his brow.

    ¡°Good, we¡¯d like two rooms please¡±

    ¡°Of course honoured cultivators¡±

    ¡°How much would that cost us?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t dare to charge ones as esteemed as you honoured cultivators, it is an honour to even be in your presence, let alone house you in my humble home.¡±

    Tantra groans.

    -

    Villages are stupid.

    She has decided this fact because over the week they¡¯ve stayed here, they haven¡¯t had to pay for anything once. Everyone just gives them what they need freely, roam and board? Of course honoured cultivator. Food and drink? Go right ahead, honoured cultivator. Alchemical concoctions? Why, you only had to ask honoured cultivator. Do these people not care at all about coin? It¡¯s ridiculous! She wants to get out of here as soon as possible but Rakan refuses until he can get his Qi back to a safe level for travel, which should take something like a week. At least they have noodles, she¡¯s gone too long without noodles. She shakes her head sadly at the sight of Yorin joyfully eating his curry.

    ¡°What?¡± He says, stopping for the moment.

    ¡°You still don¡¯t recognize the true king of the culinary world,¡± she says mournfully, ¡°truly it is my failure as your teacher to have not enlightened you to the undeniable truth. Also, don¡¯t speak with your mouth full, it¡¯s disgusting.¡±

    Yorin scoffs, ¡°puh-lease, you wouldn¡¯t know good taste if it shat in your mouth.¡±

    Etra bursts out laughing, getting a few chunks of meat on the table as Tantra gags, Kisrin just ignores the whole thing and continues with his meal of mashed beans mixed with cooking oil, small slices of tomatoes, cumin, salt, pepper, and tahina.

    ¡°Where did you learn such foul language!¡± Tantra yells.

    Etra puffs out her chest proudly, ¡°you''re not the only one that can be a teacher.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t taught him, you¡¯ve poisoned him! Witch! My sweet little Yorin can¡¯t say such things!¡± Tantra barates the girl, who still seems quite smug in her accomplishments.

    Tantra growls and tackles Etra to the ground.

    ¡°I will show no mercy!¡± She bellows.

    ¡°What the fu-¡± Etra can¡¯t complete her sentence as she starts laughing hysterically from Tantra¡¯s tickles.

    -

    Tantra is walking through the village alone. There isn¡¯t much else to do, she even tried to help them with the more physically intensive labour but that managed to get them to actually say no, quite vehemently too. It¡¯s good to know these people have boundaries because honestly, she could¡¯ve been fooled. Suddenly a ragged boy covered in dirt steps in front of her, clothing little more than scraps, blocking her way. She raises a brow as more than a few bystanders gasp.

    ¡°Move out of the way kid, I''m enjoying a stroll.¡± Tantra says

    The kid doesn¡¯t move, staring at her, then seeming to realize something as he goes to bow. He doesn¡¯t do it correctly, his arms are up in the air behind him as though he were about to start some sort of idiotic run.

    ¡°Cul-ti-va-tor,¡± the boy struggles through, ¡°teach me!¡±

    The crowd takes a step back as though they were just struck, a few even running away, as though Tantra would pulp them all for the offence of having a stupid child approach her with a stupid wish.

    ¡°Go back home to your parents¡± Tantra says, stepping to the side.

    He gets in her way again, ¡°no home! No parents!¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°a beggar then? Here, take a coin and leave me alone.¡±

    She throws a coin at him but he doesn¡¯t catch it, staring at her in the eye as it hits the ground. Tantra¡¯s brow twitches as he doesn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Teach me!¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°you realize what you''re doing is monumentally stupid right now, right? Wait for the tournaments and find your chance then.¡±

    ¡°No!¡± the boy says, ¡°I¡¯ll lose!¡±

    She bites her tongue as she goes to say something unkind. She turns to one of the peasants.

    ¡°You,¡± she says, ¡°do you know this boy?¡±

    The woman goes into a hasty bow that is much deeper than it needs to be, ¡°yes, honoured one. His name is Erick Khal, please honoured one, the village will teach him respect, please do not visit your wrath upon us.¡±

    Tantra is genuinely shocked by the actual pleading the woman is doing, are cultivators that feared? They were the closest village to the northern DarkWoods, so surely seeing a cultivator isn¡¯t some strange anomaly, do they actually have a tendency for slaughter?

    ¡°Is he truly a beggar?¡± Tantra asks instead.

    The woman rises from her bow, ¡°yes honoured one, his parents died a few wars ago with Okham-Khal.¡±

    Tantra sighs and turns back to the boy, ¡°you truly want to be a cultivator?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± he says without hesitation, eyes sparkling.

    Tantra sighs again, ¡°walk with me boy, and pick up that coin.¡±

 Ch.38:A New Idea

    They spend a while just walking, the boy tried to start up conversation but stopped after Tantra didn¡¯t reciprocate. She doesn¡¯t want to just say no to the boy, after all she was never really meant to cultivate, but how does she make him understand? There¡¯s only one real method she can think of, but she really doesn¡¯t want to use it, traumatizing the poor kid wouldn¡¯t be ideal. Still it¡¯s the only idea she can come up with.

    She keeps walking.

    A few people are staring at her bewildered, with some other kids trying to grab the boy away from her, but they backed off when she glared at them. A lot of kids seem quite hostile to the boy, even the other beggars, and she isn¡¯t fool enough not to notice the sneers of derision directed his way from the adults. She can take guesses as to why but she¡¯d rather not make assumptions.

    He can¡¯t come with them, can¡¯t come with them at all. They can¡¯t protect him if something like the bear-thing shows up again, even if it was a mistake of navigation rather than an expected occurrence. She can¡¯t have the death of a boy so young on her conscience, to be frank, but she needs to make him understand.

    ¡°You realize,¡± she starts, ¡°that cultivation is a dangerous path? And that¡¯s ignoring the fact that you won''t be part of a sect anytime soon but with a group of wandering cultivators. We will encounter spirit beasts, frequently, and your chances of surviving them isn¡¯t even worth mentioning.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t even pause to think about it, ¡°that¡¯s okay,¡± he says, ¡°it¡¯s better than this.¡±

    She sighs, mulls it over in her mind and considers that yes he probably would think so. From his perspective, anything is probably better than being a beggar.

    She points at the scar on her neck.

    ¡°You see this boy?¡±

    He nods.

    ¡°I got this fighting bandits, I have another scar on my back from where the man cut me down. Then he pulled me by the hair, and slit my throat and my friends could only watch. The only reason I''m alive is some freak accident.¡±

    Then she shrugs her robes off a bit to show off the bigger scar on her shoulder.

    ¡°I got this one fighting a different bandit, earlier than the last. Cut through this bone right here-¡± she points at her collar bone, ¡°-and stabbed my friend through her guts. She didn¡¯t survive¡±

    Surprising Tantra, the boy doesn¡¯t seem to budge, staring at her with determined eyes.

    ¡°Do you understand?¡±

    He nods.

    She sighs, she¡¯s wearing an old pair of robes right now, one of the ones with sleeves. She did not want to do this. She takes the sleeve of her left arm and reveals a truly mangled sight of torn viscera, oozing pus, and peeking bone.

    The kid''s eyes go wide, and it looks like he¡¯s about to puke, but he holds his composure and manages to stare her right in the eye.

    Then he rolls up his own sleeve.

    -

    ¡°So you wanna, what? Take him as your apprentice?¡± Rakan says, clearly unimpressed.

    ¡°Well,¡± Tantra drawls, ¡°I was hoping you could be his master.¡±

    He gives her a flat look, ¡°absolutely not¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°he¡¯s coming with us anyway, and anything you teach me, i¡¯ll teach him. So might as well skip that middleman to save time.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Rakan slaps a hand over his face and drags it down, ¡°we barely survived a fight with a spirit beast and you want to take some toddler along, Tantra please, are you gonna get pulled along into every charity case that comes to your door?¡±

    Tantra sighs and turns to the boy, ¡°show him¡±

    The boy nods and takes off his shirt, he has a bit of fur on his back and forearms, but that¡¯s not what she wants Rakan to see. She wants him to see the bruises. It¡¯s perhaps easier to tell where he isn¡¯t bruised than where he is, covered in batches of black, blue, and purple. All across his chest, back, and arms. She assumes his legs are the same. Rakan goes quiet at the sight, just staring at the boy.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± he finally says.

    ¡°His father was a felinid.¡± She says, ¡°he was sent to war with Okham-Khal, and died in battle. His mother was left to starve and he¡¯s been sustaining himself the past few months by stealing as the only thing the people here are willing to give him are beatings.¡±

    ¡°If they hate him so much, why didn¡¯t they just kill him?¡± Rakan asks

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°isn¡¯t that what they¡¯re doing? Just slowly, and painfully.¡±

    Rakan goes quiet, clearly contemplating. She doesn¡¯t want to bring the boy along, not at all, but if they reach Ralth she can sponsor him into becoming something other than a cultivator, it¡¯ll just take a while with all the detours their gonna take, but it¡¯s better than this. It¡¯s either risk death on the road or guaranteed death staying here. She does not want to abandon a child to that kind of fate, it¡¯s simply too cruel.

    A part of her is sad for him, that he had to go through losing everything only to be beaten to the ground by his neighbors. Most of her is feeling something called rage. She can¡¯t kill an entire village, that¡¯s the realm of immortals, but she can kill a few. Honestly she¡¯s barely holding herself back from doing just that, who does this to a child? Suddenly she can understand why people are so scared of cultivators. She has the power to kill without consequence. Rikidan cares little for the lives of mortals other than being useful tools to support the empire, some nobody bumfucks in some forgotten village? The only question is if she¡¯s the kind of person to do that.

    She doesn¡¯t want to be.

    But she can¡¯t help the rage, it bubbles and boils and threatens to overflow. She¡¯s gonna have to stay at the inn for the foreseeable future. She¡¯s not sure if she can control herself.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Rakan says, ¡°alright i¡¯ll teach him, but he¡¯s your responsibility, got it? you¡¯re the one who has to change his diapers.¡±

    The boy pouts, ¡°I don¡¯t need diapers.¡±

    -

    Tantra is boosting her blood continuously, letting a flow of Qi engulf her body. It¡¯s inefficient, you can only give so much Qi before there¡¯s no gaps left to fill, at which point you¡¯re just wasting Qi as most of it is absorbed in the atmosphere. It took her two weeks of gathering to collect the Qi, all to be lost in the span of a few hours.

    But she needs to do this.

    The fight with the bear-thing revealed two very important details, one she already knew, and one she was purposefully avoiding. The first is obvious, she¡¯s weak, she hasn¡¯t had the time needed to really build her strength, even though she can circulate extremely efficiently. That, however, brings us to the second issue. Her boosting wastes too much Qi, despite how good her control has gotten, threading Qi during combat is still a challenge, and she doesn¡¯t have the meridians to skip past the issue entirely. Which means she needs a way to be more efficient.

    Lucky then, that she¡¯s already thought of one.

    It¡¯s just a tweak to her particular brand of circulation.

    Qi, at it¡¯s most basic, improves what something can already do. Muscles get stronger, bones get harder, senses get sharper. The blood infusion technique takes advantage of this, afterall, the purpose of blood is to feed the body through circulation. It does this with almost perfect efficiency.

    The key word in all this being efficiency.

    If she can change its purpose through intention, she can theoretically get a full body boost all at once, wasting little to no Qi. The first problem of course is control, she¡¯ll have to be much better to be able to boost her blood with any accuracy while fighting. The second problem is her organs.

    They¡¯re still mortal.

    Most cultivators don¡¯t particularly care, letting them slowly reach the foundation level over four decades, (or in her case, four years), but she needs this now. So she¡¯s forcing her body to take the Qi anyway. She¡¯s going to have to get better at gathering, maybe she should start trying to do it while walking? It¡¯ll be difficult, but it is possible.

    She¡¯s not even touching the issue of manipulating Qi with intention until she can try out her theoretical technique without accidentally killing herself.

 Ch.39:Something Best Forgotten

    Tantra is running.

    One foot in front of the other to the cruel tune of Jalia¡¯s humming. How is she humming!?! Does she not feel the burning in her lungs, or the ache in her legs, or lightheadedness of her¡­she thinks it¡¯s brain? Yes, brain. Tantra¡¯s so smart.

    ¡°C¡¯mon sweetheart, pick up the pace!¡± Jalia says exuberantly, not at all winded, ¡°you¡¯ll never become a cultivator at this rate!.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m¡­going¡­to¡­be¡­a¡­merchant¡± Tantra manages through desperate breathes of air. She hates Jalia¡¯s sessions! Why can¡¯t they do something fun, like study Rikidan tax law? It¡¯s actually quite interesting, you see it uses a kind of bracketing system-

    ¡°Tantra! Hurry it up girl, I''m gonna lap you at this rate!¡±

    -

    Erick is riding on Yorin¡¯s shoulders, much to the village''s horror.

    They¡¯ve spent the last week in abject terror that their resident forsaken wonder child. Tantra, little devil that she is, finds this immensely amusing. A little payback back for what they¡¯ve done to him, though it isn¡¯t nearly enough. That¡¯s something that kind of scares her, the rage. It comes up now whenever these bumkins act all kind and proper, like they didn¡¯t spend months starving and beating an orphan. She knows not all of them are guilty, but she can¡¯t help it. Can¡¯t help the anger. She has moments where she genuinely considers just beating the shit out of one of them, to give them a taste. That is not normal, for general human decency and for Tantra. She¡¯s never had anger issues, always in control, always proper. She needs to get out of this place before she caves to the desire for retribution.

    ¡°Hey squirt.¡± Etra says, ¡°catch¡±

    She throws a peach into his arms, clean and ripe. He looks at it, then looks back at her in confusion. Making a weird face between scrutiny and intrigue.

    ¡°Eat. You¡¯re practically just bone.¡± Etra says.

    ¡°People usually eat meat to gain weight,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°fruits are just an indulgence.¡±

    ¡°Did anybody ask you?¡± Etra snaps at him, Kisrin puts his hands up in surrender, ¡°yeah, that¡¯s what I thought.¡±

    Etra¡¯s sharp gaze turns back to Erick, ¡°go ahead, I ain¡¯t charging,¡±

    Erick nods hesitantly, ¡°thank you,¡± he says, which gets a grunt from Etra. He bites into the peach and his eyes go wide with surprise, what proceeds is a crime against etiquette, and peaches.

    ¡°I think there''s peach juice in my hair,¡± Yorin says.

    ¡°Gonna have to teach him manners¡± Tantra muses.

    Yorin snorts, ¡°good luck with that, kids are an absolute menace.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°and you would know this how?¡±

    Yorin shrugs, ¡°I¡¯m the second oldest of five, seen plenty of my brothers and sisters cause trouble for ma and pa. Absolute hellions. The youngest, Rasalam, just learned how to crawl when I left. He¡¯s probably moved onto walking by now.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you had siblings.¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°I don¡¯t really like to talk about them, makes me miss ¡®em, but it¡¯s fine now that we¡¯re headed their way.¡± Yorin says.

    ¡°Second oldest of five,¡± Kisrin muses, ¡°could¡¯ve fooled me, you don¡¯t exactly radiate ¡®responsible older brother.¡¯¡±

    Yorin smiles devilishly, ¡°never said I was responsible.¡±

    Tantra shudders, ¡°your poor parents.¡±

    -

    ¡°And so, in the darkness of her gaze, in the grasp of her will, we find absolution! Join us fellow cultivators and walk the true path that has been kept secret from us by those too greedy to share such wonders, too afraid to spread the truth, and too complacent to pursue true greatness! Come! Join the Cackling Daemon!¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Ranya points at two disciples as they preach their gospel to the newly initiated.

    ¡°Go Pinia, beat them black and blue!¡±

    Pinia just looks nervously at the crowd, then at Ranya, then back at the ground.

    ¡°Senior?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Are you trying to get me killed?¡±

    -

    Just a step, light as a feather and swift as a fox.

    Making sure to stay downwind as she stalks her prey.

    It¡¯s a boar, slightly larger than a normal boar, but that¡¯s not what''s interesting about it. It has no head, replaced instead with a myriad of writhing and wriggling tentacles dotted with what might be teeth or what might be bone. She¡¯s starting to see more of them out on the periphery, proper spirit beasts. While that is concerning the elders have said nothing, so she¡¯s just been hunting as usual.

    As the tentacles are grabbing from the vegetation and feeding the maw at its centre, she sees an opening.

    A serrated dagger almost as long as her forearm digs its way into the boar''s side as something that perhaps might be a squeal, but sounds more like an amplified chitter, escapes the thing that has become of its head.

    -

    Soma is so bored.

    After that bandit raid everything has just felt so¡­bland. Like the world¡¯s lost its color, for once in his life he could feel the thrill of danger, could fight to bring death and to be brought to death. Like a true cultivator, not whatever this is. He kowtows in front of his father as propriety demands and waits for him to speak.

    ¡°They tell me you¡¯ve gone out to the wilds again.¡± Says point of a needle balanced on thin waters, ¡°despite my explicit orders for you not to leave the sect.¡±

    He takes a sip of tea from a cup offered by an inner disciple, one of fathers greatest actually, he places the tea back in the girls hands. ¡°What am I to make of this Soma? Disobedience is only natural, for one such at your age, but there are limits to my mercy.¡±

    The room vibrates as Qi blankets the room. Soma feels the pressure on his soul, as though it were trapped in a vice. But he¡¯s gotten used to it, get exposed to a higher cultivation like his fathers enough and you start to acclimate to the pressure.

    ¡°Forgiveness father, but I do not need your mercy,¡± Soma says, ¡°what I need is to walk the path like a proper cultivator, rather than a pampered scion.¡±

    His father sighs as the pressure relents, ¡°you aren¡¯t even anchored boy, I cannot accept this foolishness that has grown in your heart. Either you learn or you will be made to learn¡±

    Soma shivers, he does not want to go into the room, not again.

    ¡°So be it,¡± he says, ¡°I will keep fighting until you recognize my conviction.¡±

    ¡°I will recognize nothing boy,¡± says the slight disturbance of water from a smooth stone of perfect curves.

    -

    He knows what he is, it isn¡¯t a requirement for anchoring, but it lessens the burden to invest in some self-enlightenment. So he knows a lot about himself, he knows his favorite food is sausage, knows that the kata¡¯s they train to the inner disciples fascinate him, he knows that he¡¯s fairly awkward and can¡¯t seem to ask Morek the question.

    But above all else, he knows that he is a coward.

    Everyone calls him a prodigy, advancing through the initial realms like one might a brisk walk, but the truth is he¡¯s just scared. From the day Fathom understood the concept of death he¡¯s been living his whole life in fear, it pushed him to touch his Qi much younger than what is healthy, It gave him the willpower to anchor his soul before he even completed foundation. It¡¯s what guides him when he is being beaten into the ground.

    He must get stronger, he must further his cultivation like how a flower needs water.

    He advances not for glory nor recognition, but for fear.

    -

    There is silence.

    There is always silence where he sleeps, the things of the forest both terrified and awed by what he is. He knows he is a he, known for a long time when concepts beyond the digging and hunting entered its head.

    But that was ages ago.

    It is dreaming of the days of its youth, when it would burrow and hide from things that could have easily turned him into dinner. He remembers his mother, but not his father.

    His mother was strong of spirit but weak of body, it was little wonder that he ate her once he grew enough from the life/change. He regrets it a bit, but not by much.

    While he is dreaming, the world around him seems to shudder.

    Hmmmm. One of the others is waking up, not just yet however, it can feel it in the ground you see and smell it in the air. The vibrations aren¡¯t strong enough, and blood hasn¡¯t overwhelmed his senses, so it isn¡¯t time yet.

    Soon though.

 Ch.40:A Little Song For The Journey

    The Boreal Pass is more of a clearing than a road, a strip of dead land between two competing foci, the DarkWoods and The Forest Of Seven Legs. They are about equal in Qi output, but The Forest has no sects on its periphery, no tribes in its centre, and no bandits hiding amongst the foliage. It is, for all intents and purposes, a wild foci. Meaning the spirit beasts are left to mutate as they please, making it much more dangerous than the DarkWoods. Add to that the bandits and the Boreal Pass is only really travelled by seasoned cultivators and/or merchant caravans. She''s a little worried since Rakan is still holding in his guts, but she trusts his judgment¡­somewhat.

    They kind of have too, the geography isn¡¯t exactly kind, with the Roudune Peaks surrounding and cutting into both forests. Unless they wanted to hike up the mountains, or were willing to cross the entirety of the DarkWoods, then this is the only way to get to Yorin and Etra¡¯s village.

    ¡°Oh~

    I once threw a stone at a very big crone~

    She cursed and screamed like an angry gnome~

    So I picked up another and threw it at her brother~

    He turned to me and cursed my mother~

    Then I stole his son and went on the run~

    So they grabbed a knife and took my life~¡±

    Tantra stares shocked at Yorin as Erick giggles, ¡°where did you learn that?¡±

    ¡°They didn¡¯t sing you songs back home?¡± Yorin asks, perplexed.

    ¡°My family had good taste¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Etra exclaims, ¡°the stone and the crone is a classic! You take that back.¡±

    ¡°I most certainly will not,¡± Tantra says, ¡°whatever that was, it should never have left the mouths of man to taint the illustrious art of music.¡±

    Erick turns confused to Yorin, ¡°what¡¯s il-lus-tri-ous?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it kiddo,¡± Yorin pats his back, ¡°Tantra likes to use big words because she¡¯s smart.¡±

    Erick¡¯s eyes sparkle, ¡°can I be smart?¡±

    ¡°Of course you can! I¡¯m sure Tantra would be happy to teach you,¡± Yorin says.

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°are you volunteering my services, honourable Yorin?¡±

    ¡°You would have done it anyway,¡± Yorin points out

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°true, though I¡¯d prefer for it to be courtesy rather than expectation.¡±

    -

    Yorin dodges to the side as the wolf pounces, bringing his guandao up to bisect the beast. It¡¯s a little heavy for his arms but he manages. Have to be when facing a group afterall. The other wolves circle him and Kisrin as the others watch. Each wolf is slightly different, one has eyes like a honeycomb, another¡¯s fur has turned sharp, and the last has fangs that are too big for its maw. Spirit beasts are not known to work together, but it can happen, if a group of particularly close animals mutate together.

    The wolf with big fangs nips at his legs and responds by hitting it in the face with the butt of his weapon.

    Yorin and Kisrin continue their standoff as the mongrels circle them slowly.

    This is going nowhere.

    Yorin pushes Qi into the meridians of his legs and boosts forward, ever so slightly, so as to not lose the ability to walk. The honeycomb wolf tries to back away in shock, but it¡¯s too late, the blade of his weapon cuts into its neck, leaving its head to hang from the threads of it¡¯s muscles. His legs hurt but that¡¯s fine-Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Something bites his ankle and pulls.

    He holds his ground and turns to see the fanged wolf.

    He smiles and grabs his guandao into a close-grip and stabs into its brain. The wolf goes limp and Yorin¡¯s smile widens as he searches for the last one. He finds it impaled by Kisrin¡¯s spear.

    Yorin pouts, ¡°couldn¡¯t let me have all of them?¡±

    Kisrin just looks confused at the boy, ¡°are you stupid?¡±

    Yorin shrugs, ¡°only a little¡±

    -

    Rakan cleans his club of hemolymph as he stands over the corpse of a twelve foot long millipede with feet tipped in keratin and poison mist slowly being expelled from the glands on its back. He¡¯s quiet, and contemplating, both things Tantra knows means bad news. The others are chatting happily but she¡¯s standing next to Rakan, staring at him.

    He looks at her and sighs, ¡°you¡¯re too observant, you know that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a requirement for haggling¡± Tantra replies.

    He snorts, ¡°always comes back to the merchant shit huh?¡±

    Tantra nods.

    He lets out a slight chuckle and turns back to the millipede, taking a deep breath of the poison fumes. She doesn¡¯t know how deep his roots are but they must be impressive if he¡¯s willing to risk what she assumes would be a brutally painful death for no reason.

    ¡°I sense best through smell,¡± he says, as though reading her thoughts, ¡°was checking to see which forest this thing came from.¡±

    Tantra tilts her head, ¡°does it matter.¡±

    He shrugs, ¡°call it professional curiosity. Spirit beasts wander much deeper into the Boreal Path, where the two foci actually intersect and mix, not here, barely past its beginning.¡±

    ¡°It could just be a coincidence,¡± Tantra reasons.

    He shrugs, ¡°could be.¡±

    -

    ¡°Weeeeeee¡± Erick says succinctly as he sprints in a circle by the fireplace.

    ¡°Erick,¡± Tantra chastises, ¡°stop that, you could burn yourself.¡±

    He just stops and sticks out his tongue at her before going back to his running.

    Tantra gets up with a sigh, ¡°remember, you made me do this.¡±

    She rushes him, catches him, and then tickles him.

    -

    Tantra holds four threads, moving them slowly together as she starts to weave a rope. She can feel her soul protesting, but she continues on anyway. Pain in the soul isn¡¯t really pain, it¡¯s more like what pain is literally is to its definition. It¡¯s telling her that there is an injury and that she should stop, but she doesn¡¯t feel anything beyond the profuse sweating and the nausea. She¡¯s doubled down, has to double down. She¡¯s the second strongest person in their group, and while the gap between her and Rakan is large, it still leaves her with a responsibility to protect her friends, at least until they reach foundation themselves.

    So she needs to be stronger, and the quickest way would be to improve her control, both for future plans and for her current rate of boost efficiency. If she could cleanse her large meridians then she wouldn¡¯t need to bother with control, then again, if she didn¡¯t bother with control then she would still be training at the sect.

    Pros and cons.

    She never thought being a spiritual cripple would have pros but here we are.

    She holds the rope together with all the will she can muster. Her soul hasn¡¯t gotten that much stronger, but willpower can triumph over anything, and it''s easy to build determination over an action you¡¯ve done multiple times. Just have to get used to it.

    So she extends the rope to her xiphoid process and holds it there, letting the pressure build and build until-

    Tantra vomits bile and blood.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough for today,¡± Rakan says beside her, ¡°get back on watch, I¡¯ve got burpees to do.¡±

    She just nods once she¡¯s able.

    -

    Hakan raises his greatsword, bringing it down as it cuts through air.

    A lot of people tend to think you need a cultivator''s strength to handle a greatsword with any level of finesse, but they couldn¡¯t be further from the truth. Despite its impressive size it¡¯s not all that heavy, most weapons aren¡¯t, it¡¯s all about balance. If the weapon was made by a competent smith, then it¡¯ll be relatively easy to wield with training. If not, well, then any weapon would be a pain.

    He brings his blade up, he brings his blade down.

    A simple motion, and one that serves little purpose to him after so many days of repetition, both muscle and muscle memory are suitably trained for one of his cultivation, but it¡¯s soothing, something to calm his nerves in these troubled times.

    The Rakkaja are leaving the forest.

    They only do that for one reason.

    A beast tide is coming.

 Ch.41:A Look Into The World, And A Peek Outside It

    There¡¯s a whole lot of nothing on the Boreal Pass, except for mongrels and spirit beasts. She has to deal with a few, but Rakan¡¯s making the others work for their coin as the saying goes, since her arm is currently out of commission. He deals with the spirit beasts though, no point in risking any of the disciples when none of them can match one at the moment. So, with all her free time walking, she decides to do something different. She breathes in, holds the breath, and manages to grab just a miniscule amount, putting it into her core. Gathering while walking isn¡¯t really worth the effort, but she¡¯s not doing it for the Qi, she¡¯s doing it to improve her will in a way that doesn¡¯t involve spilling out her guts. She doesn¡¯t know how successful she¡¯s been since she started, but she assumes she¡¯s made some progress. That¡¯s just how cultivation works, always growing, never regressing.

    The will, like control, isn¡¯t really something that cultivators train. Its usefulness kind of dies once you anchor, at which point there isn¡¯t really a reason to gather unless you do it recreationally. Tantra certainly isn¡¯t anchoring any time soon so she might as well invest, especially since it¡¯ll help her push past her soul''s limits in the control exercises.

    No ones really talking, Yorin is humming a happy tune while carrying Erick on his shoulders. Etra¡¯s making a face like she¡¯s constipated, probably cultivating as well, she needs to learn how to control her features. Rakan is watching as Kisrin takes on a few mongrels with his spear, being precise and calculating in his motions. It¡¯s nice, to be with good company, she¡¯s been stalling on asking them if they¡¯d like to join her on the caravans once she gets home, so they can travel the world together. She doesn¡¯t think she can go back to pure politics now that she¡¯s gotten a taste of camaraderie. She¡¯s honestly curious about how they might interact with the harem and her siblings. She¡¯s a little horrified by how they might act around the nobles, she has to teach them some etiquette.

    So much to do, so little time.

    Is it weird that she finds this fun?

    Probably, but all cultivators are weird, and she¡¯s a cultivator.

    Huh.

    She¡¯s a cultivator.

    She hasn¡¯t really thought about it since reaching foundations but she¡¯s a proper cultivator, if only a weak one. That thought makes her weirdly happy, she did something she was sure was impossible, sure she might never reach anchoring but most don¡¯t reach that step so it''s fine. Hells, with her blood infusion technique she might be able to dig her roots at a speed that beggars belief.

    Maybe that¡¯s how Rakan¡¯s so strong.

    -

    Rakia takes one big gulp of the elixir and waits. It always takes a moment, lethargic, like a ghoul rising from a field of death and carrion. Ghouls aren¡¯t common, not like in the stories of way back when, when the bastard god Roguth¡¯Karr rained the tears of hells cherubs down unto the world. She¡¯s glad she wasn¡¯t born in that time, or any time the gods took interest in humanity. It always ends with the formation of new empires and kingdoms, because the old ones were burned to the ground. Funny that, humanity lives at the mercy of the gods they claim to defy, gods that could easily-

    Pain.

    Ahhh, there it is, finally.

    Her body writhes and convulses as she falls to the floor and froths at the mouth. No worries, this is how it¡¯s supposed to go! She just has to endure for the next, oh, hour or so. Probably more, this is the most she¡¯s taken all at once before. But that¡¯s okay! This will make her stronger in the ways that matter, much stronger. She needs that, needs it badly. She has a fancy new scar where that son of a whore punched through her stomach and rearranged her guts.

    She has to get stronger, she has to get much stronger, and she can¡¯t do that quickly without taking a few shortcuts. She can feel the dao of the hunt twist and scream as her soul is forced to expand, can feel the shards ripping into her foundations and tainting her meridians. But that¡¯s okay, that¡¯s more than okay. There¡¯s a price for strength, and while most pay that price with time, she pays with her cultivation.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    She can always build it back up.

    But her soul, her sweet little soul. She imagines it¡¯s miniscule compared to an immortal, but compared to her peers? She dominates, it¡¯s the one advantage she has over everyone. Most don¡¯t take the elixir as often as she does, afraid of the taint like the cowards they are, taking small drops to mitigate the side effects.

    Koraz wasn¡¯t happy when he found out she had been harassing one of the sects, waxing all lyrical about how the elders could crush them if they were inclined. She doesn¡¯t know how such a coward became the chief of a bandit clan but life¡¯s funny in how it defies expectation. Ah well, he brings the coin so there must be something he¡¯s doing right.

    -

    There is a sound, then there is silence.

    Sound.

    Silence.

    Sound.

    Silence.

    How long has it been, trapped in this place of endless cycles? How long since it¡¯s felt the touch of the World? It doesn¡¯t know, the concept of time doesn¡¯t exist here, it might have been a second spread out into a millennia, or billions of years compressed into just a few years. How long has it been shackled? The sound it¡¯s only company. It changes sometimes. Sometimes it is the delicate laughter of a child, other times it is the warcry of a barbarian. It wants this to be over, it wants to be free, it-

    Sound.

    Like the rushing of water through a creek as it sinks and absorbs into the ground, feeding the life surrounding it.

    Silence.

    Like a promise stolen.

    -

    Ilkar takes a sip of tea. It isn¡¯t particularly noteworthy tea, the Giants Repose sect has been falling on hard times as of late. That doesn¡¯t matter much to him, he¡¯s here to collect, and they will either offer coins or bodies. Either works for the empire, so either works for him.

    The door opens and a man of unusual vitality enters the room as Ilkar sets down his tea.

    ¡°Gosharn, what a pleasure it is to see you again,¡± Ilkar says with practiced joy.

    ¡°I wish I could say the same,¡± Gosham grumbles as he takes a seat on his cushion, ¡°let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s that bad huh?¡± Ilkar says.

    Gosham sighs, ¡°It is, I don¡¯t look forward to sending my disciples to die in the empire''s wars.¡±

    Ilkar shrugs, ¡°that¡¯s the way our world works. I assume this means you can¡¯t pay the ten thousand?¡±

    ¡°If we did, the sect would be destitute,¡± Gosham says mournfully.

    Ilkar shrugs, ¡°then you know what I will ask.¡±

    Gosham sighs, heavier this time, ¡°I do, and I will.¡±

    -

    Ranya is looking at her soul.

    She shouldn¡¯t be capable of this, not so young and early into the path, but the constant wrongness provides an easy path to follow. The source of all her problems ironically is what''s making her do things only old cultivators should be capable of. She¡¯s fine with that, it¡¯s not like having a daemon in your soul is a good thing.

    Her soul is amorphous, just a cloud of potential floating through the ether, it looks¡­beautiful, until you look at its centre. There''s a parasite is feeding, ever so slowly taking her identity to live and grow. It is so small, but that is only because Ranya is a diligent girl, and refuses to let it grow.

    Like right now.

    It¡¯s filled with the pieces of her soul and it swells, like a bloated maggot. Before it molts, Ranya takes a hand and grabs it.

    Pain she is familiar with but will never acclimate to courses through her body, but she doesn¡¯t let go. She holds for dear life as it sheds its previous skin like an old coat. It doesn¡¯t try to fight her, that¡¯s not what a daemon is. It probably doesn¡¯t even know what it¡¯s doing beyond the feeding.

    Ranya finds that sad.

    Eventually the bulging stops, and the parasite settles in the palm of her metaphorical hand. She lets go and feels instant relief. She examines the bug before leaving.

    It¡¯s gotten bigger, slightly.

    Ranya sighs.

 Ch.42:A Gift From A Bastard

    Many are the cities that grace the lands of Rikidan, each resting near at least one foci, to reap its bounties. Barakan is an outpost city on the western end of the Boreal Pass, acting as a bulwark against the armies of Okham-Khal, in case the northern outskirts fall. It houses perhaps one million souls, perhaps two. Tantra doesn¡¯t really remember it from her geography lessons but that sounds about right.

    There¡¯s a decent amount of traffic, mostly from monster hunters and foragers, but there are a few cultivators among their number. Luckily, being a cultivator means they get to use the line reserved for nobility. People don¡¯t make space for them here, seemingly desensitized by the presence of cultivators, but they don¡¯t go so far as to bump into them, so there¡¯s still some weariness.

    They approach a guard lounging by a counter in the comfort of the city''s walls, he barely spares them a glance as they walk up to him.

    ¡°Names?¡± he grunts out.

    ¡°Rakan,¡± says Rakan.

    He raises a brow, ¡°no last name?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    He shrugs, ¡°and the kids?¡±

    ¡°Tantra sol, Etra Sar, Kisrin Cao, Yorin Ghal, and Erick Khal.¡±

    The guard stares at Rikidan, ¡°Sol and Khal,¡± He muses, ¡°I¡¯m getting all the interesting ones today, you sure that¡¯s what you want on the record?¡±

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°It¡¯s their names.¡±

    ¡°Alright honoured cultivator, just don¡¯t come complaining to me if it bites you in the ass.¡±

    -

    Barakan is just as she remembers it.

    Gratuitously boring.

    There¡¯s simply no life in this city, just people going from one place to another, they don¡¯t even have a dedicated market, everything is designed for efficiency, with any attempt at operating an independent business crushed under the boots of the guilds. There¡¯s a reason for this of course, the interest the empire has in this city is to be a bulwark, not a centre for trade. So no free market to poison its purpose with independent interests unfortunately. Which also means no competitors, which, of course, means ridiculous price gouging. Tantra wants to get out of this city as soon as possible, if only for the sake of her coin purse, which has only recently been filled with silver.

    ¡°So,¡± Rakan says, ¡°should we head over to the alchemists guild?¡±

    Tantra blinks, ¡°why?¡±

    He looks incredulously at her, ¡°to sell the lifecaps you insisted on collecting.¡±

    Tantra just stops and stares at Rakan, ¡°do you have brain damage?¡±

    ¡°Damn, try to be at least a little more subtle, I do have decades of cultivation on you.¡± He says, ¡°but go ahead, enlighten me for why we shouldn¡¯t.¡±

    Tantra looks around as everyone stares at her in rapt attention, she coughs into her hand and tries to mimic Farsa¡¯s tone, ¡°well, firstly, we are in the city that would easily have the most lifecaps in circulation, meaning the price would be the lowest. Secondly, this is a completely controlled market, so we only have one entity to sell to, putting most of the bargaining power in their hands, which, again, would lower the price.¡±

    Yorin scrunches his brow, ¡°so where would we sell them then?¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°preferably Ralth.¡±

    Etra groans, ¡°we collected all this shit to sell it at our destination? I thought we were using this to help with the journey¡±

    Tantra scoffs, ¡°It¡¯s not my fault you don¡¯t understand basic market economics.¡±

    ¡°Tantra, none of us even know what economics means,¡± Kisrin reasons.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Tantra looks flabbergasted at him

    -

    There¡¯s this thing with cultivation stories.

    They always have random duels in the streets, be it for a perceived slight, a test of honour, or just because someone was feeling violent that day. This is a common trope because it actually happens, Tantra has witnessed more than a few duels on the streets of Ralth, and every single one of them was a test in human idiocy.

    So she knew that, eventually, she would be challenged for the offence of wearing the robes and token.

    She just hoped it wouldn¡¯t be so soon.

    ¡°Come and face me honourable cultivator, in the name of the Hallow Bones Sect, I will test your might through the clash of blades!¡± says a man with wild hair and sharp features as he draws his jian with a flourish.

    ¡°I don¡¯t use a blade,¡± Tantra says blandly, nodding to her club.

    The man shrugs, ¡°it¡¯s an expression. So, will you accept my challenge or would you be made a coward in the face of the heavens?¡±

    Tantra looks back to her friends and teacher and sighs.

    Yorin and Etra are giving her a thumbs up of all things, Erick looks absolutely delighted, and her teacher just raises a brow when she looks at him.

    The only one who has sense seems to be Kisrin, who has the decency to look concerned.

    ¡°Apologies honourable cultivator of the Hallow Bones,¡± he says pointing to the dried blood on her robes. She¡¯s still wearing the old ones, she could switch, the linen robes have repaired themselves, but she doesn¡¯t really want to show off her arm , ¡°but she is clearly injured, surely it would be below your honour to challenge a cultivator who¡¯s still recovering?¡±

    The cultivator snorts, ¡°I will decide what is below my honour boy, now quiet before I decide to free your body from the burden of a head.¡±

    ¡°Excuse you?¡± Tantra says, a spark of rage igniting in her chest, ¡°you will do no such thing.¡±

    ¡°Then face me,¡± he says with a smile, ¡°and let us bleed on these streets like proper cultivators of the path.¡±

    Tantra takes a deep breath, centering herself. ¡°No¡± she says, ¡°I won¡¯t indulge in this petty game.¡±

    The man frowns.

    He shrugs.

    Then he slashes his blade.

    He¡¯s a fair distance away, so Tantra just stares confused.

    Then blood flies as a line cuts through her robes and digs into flesh. Tantra¡¯s eyes go wide with shock as he readies another slash. She boosts her legs and dashes, colliding her club with his blade. He smiles and pulls back sending his blade out in a flurry of jabs. Some she blocks, but her manoeuvrability is limited with only one functioning arm, so more than a few pierce through, a strange energy leaving the tip of the blade to fully pierce through her body.

    He brings his blade up with both arms and slashes down.

    She barely dodges.

    She hears a pained scream from behind her, and for a moment she glances back to see two halves of a person falling to the ground.

    A mortal.

    The rage burns like a furnace.

    She said no, she didn¡¯t want this.

    The fuck is Rakan doing? Shouldn¡¯t he be interfering or something?

    She turns back to the man to find him releasing another cut.

    She puts her kanab¨­ in the way of where she thinks it¡¯s path will lead and feels something like a sword clang against her weapon. But there is only air. She grunts and charges the man, swinging her club to his side, she has to put a lot more Qi into the boost to compensate for the single arm but it is enough. She can hear his ribs breaking as he is sent flying into the crowd.

    She hears a laugh and sees the man get back up as the mortals back away from him. His smile is wild and feral as he faces her.

    Then he is in front of her.

    His blade is in her guts.

    ¡°A parting gift,¡± he says, ¡°you¡¯ve earned it.¡±

    Then he lets go of the blade and simply disappears.

    -

    ¡°This is expensive,¡± Rakan comments as he turns the blade over, ¡°it¡¯s got layered scripts for maintenance, sharpness, and Qi infusion. That and it seems to be carved from the bone of a particularly strong spirit beast.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Tantra says sardonically as she lays on her cot, not willing to move, she¡¯s never been gutted before and it hurts, more so than any injury she¡¯s gotten so far. How has Rakan been so nonchalant about being gored? This sucks.

    ¡°Can¡¯t be mad at me forever girl, you had to learn the realities of cultivator life eventually,¡± Rakan says.

    Tantra scoffs, ¡°you left your student to face a greater foe while severely injured, I think I will, in fact, hold this grudge forever¡±

    Rakan just shrugs, ¡°you¡¯ll face things that are stronger than you all the time, you only just started digging your roots after all, and your meridians are far from being cleansed. Better a safe environment to learn from than an unsafe one.¡±

    ¡°I assumed the bear was sufficient for that kind of lesson.¡±

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°we learn through repetition.¡±

 Ch.43:No Reason

    Despite the many new additions to Tantra¡¯s arsenal of injuries, the group decides that it would be best if they moved on. Well, they decided that after Tantra started to give them an extensive lesson on supply and demand and how it affects the price of healers, since they¡¯re conveniently always in demand, and in this city? There¡¯s no way in the nine hells that she¡¯d even consider wasting so much coin. Besides, she¡¯s in purification! They can bounce back from an injury that would be very fatal to a mortal.

    Like getting cut in half.

    That¡¯s not even a joke, cultivators with deep enough roots can literally survive and heal from a complete bisection. Too bad that mortal wasn¡¯t one of them. He was an older gentleman, with salt and pepper hair and a slight underbite. He had blue eyes, blue, lifeless eyes. She should have blocked, or just taken the hit, what would it matter to her? She¡¯s recovered from punctured lungs not two months ago. She didn¡¯t think about the people surrounding her, and so one of them died. No one seemed to care, they just kept watching.

    How is that okay? A man dies a brutal death in front of your eyes and you just keep watching? How could you not care?

    Her opponent didn¡¯t even seem slightly perturbed from the murder he had committed. Like it was simply a matter of course that a mortal would become a casualty.

    Maybe it was.

    He was throwing around those odd sword techniques with reckless abandon after all. Maybe it¡¯s a blessing that only one died. Is she being sentimental? Should she be fine with being an accomplice to such a pointless death?

    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it,¡± Rakan had said, ¡°it¡¯s hard to stop the spiral once it starts.¡±

    ¡°How can I not think about it?¡± Tantra had asked, ¡°a man died! For no reason!¡±

    Rakan shrugged, ¡°listen kid, the worlds a fucked up place, people die all the time. Most of them without purpose or reason. He¡¯s just lucky his death was quick.¡±

    She didn¡¯t really like that answer, so she asked Kisrin.

    He just stared at the stars and stayed silent for a long time.

    ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°back in my village, there was this big duel between cultivators. A lot of heavy blows and blurry strikes. Absolutely mesmerizing, is that the word?¡± Tantra nods, ¡°yeah, so, mesmerizing. When you ask any of the villagers about it they¡¯d all talk about how amazing it was, how they couldn¡¯t believe their eyes and thank the gods for the opportunity to witness such a fight. None of them talk about Yokrash. He was a carpenter, an okay one, I don¡¯t know. Never really knew the man until the day his head burst from some kind of sound technique¡±

    He went silent for a moment.

    ¡°I was probably seven? Yeah, that sounds right. When I think about that fight, I don¡¯t remember the epic exchanges, I remember Yokrash, and how he died¡±

    He sighs, ¡°I guess my point is that it¡¯s more common than you think. The fact you even feel guilty shows that you''re doing more than most.¡±

    ¡°I never saw anything like that,¡± she had said, ¡°and I¡¯ve been a witness to plenty of duels.¡±

    He shrugged, ¡°maybe it¡¯s different in the big cities, where the empire cares about rules and propriety. But out here on its edges? No, unless it gets to the point of a culling, the empire will do nothing.¡±

    Tantra fiddled with a stick, creating lines in the dirt, ¡°why¡¯d you want to be a cultivator then? After seeing that I mean.¡±

    Kisrin¡¯s gaze returned to the stars, ¡°I didn¡¯t want to be like Yorkash, dying some nothing death in the crossfire of cultivators dueling or as a forgotten casualty to a beast tide.¡±

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°But aren¡¯t you more likely to die as a cultivator than as a mortal?¡± Tantra had asked.

    He laid back onto the ground and put his hands behind his head, ¡°yeah, but at least then it¡¯ll be as a consequence of my decision, rather than some unfortunate accident.¡±

    Tantra chuckled slightly, ¡°that¡¯s surprisingly insightful for a child.¡±

    He didn¡¯t answer that, simply giving her a soft smile.

    -

    Unfortunately, for the sake of practicality, Tantra¡¯s decided to wear her linen robes now that they¡¯ve finished repairing, leaving her decently infected arm exposed for everyone to see. They actually pass someone every now and then, now that they¡¯re on properly travelled roads and not a glorified merchant route, and even despite her status as a cultivator, they scrunch up their nose in disgust. One actually vomited, and proceeded to kowtow like his life depended on it, which from his perspective it probably did.

    Honestly, it was pretty funny.

    But she does smell horrendous with all that infected tissue. Almost as bad as Rakan with his still exposed guts. Speaking of guts, hers are in excruciating pain, and walking is not helping with that, at all. They had to stop a few times because of the pain, which gave them time to each further their own cultivation. She¡¯s just been gathering Qi to fight off the infection and to feed her organs, like she has been for the past two months. That¡¯s a long time to have an injury, all her other ones (not including the ones from the duel) have scarred over already, leaving purple patches where the bone spikes pierced through her body, about six in total. Four on her chest, and two on her shoulder. There¡¯s also the claw marks on her chest and abdomen, which luckily weren¡¯t deep enough to leave anything but white marks. They¡¯re still scars, but they''re not the ugly purples of the others.

    She¡¯ll take that.

    ¡°It¡¯s not fair,¡± Yorin pouts, ¡°you¡¯ve got all the cool scars and all I¡¯ve got is the one on my face and chest.¡±

    ¡°If we could trade, I would,¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°Eh, I don¡¯t know, the one on his face makes it look like he¡¯s constantly smiling. It¡¯s creepy.¡± Etra says

    Tantra gives her a flat look, ¡°compared to the quantity I¡¯ve accumulated? It¡¯s a worthy sacrifice.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry honourable Tantra, I¡¯ll be sure to dedicate myself to the dao of scars to heal you of your plight,¡± Kisrin says magnanimously.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound real,¡± Yorin says.

    ¡°It is,¡± Rakan interrupts, ¡°so long as the concept exists then so does the dao.¡±

    Yorin tilts his head, ¡°is there a dao of walking then?¡±

    Rakan shrugs, ¡°and running, and jogging, and even skipping.¡±

    ¡°Who gets those kinds of daos? And how would that work with integration?¡± Tantra asks.

    ¡°No idea,¡± Rakan says, ¡°the easier the subject, the harder it is to get the corresponding dao. It¡¯s why many practitioners of the sword get their dao before those of the spear.¡±

    ¡°That feels like something you can¡¯t really measure,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°dao is dependant on the person after all, I could spend years with the spear and not receive one, while a true savant experiences enlightenment after just a month.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just an assumption based on a rule kid, to explain why daos of simpler origins are still an arduous process to gain, nobodies actually measured anything,¡± Rakan says.

    ¡°Then it can¡¯t really count as a study,¡± Tantra points out, ¡°and therefore is moot.¡±

    Rakan rolls his eyes, ¡°find me a cultivator interested in research and I¡¯ll show you a liar. The amount of people who actually give a shit about the minutiae of dao and Qi are composed completely of mortals. Maybe a few cultivators here and there, but no one would spend precious time on questions that don¡¯t advance their cultivation.¡±

    ¡°Vozen¡¯s a researcher,¡± Tantra points out.

    ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s also exclusively researching the paths to find ways to expedite the journey, not the laws of reality.¡± Rakan says.

    ¡°What are you guys talking about?¡± Erick asks as he blinks awake on Yorins back.

    ¡°Just how cultivators are lazy bums,¡± Etra says.

    Erick scrunches his brow, ¡°that doesn¡¯t sound right.¡±

    ¡°Yeah well you''re a kid, what do you know?¡±

    Everyone stops and turns to stare at Etra with flat expressions.

    "Fuck off!"

    -

    A thing of purple skin and oozing smoke stares out of the window of his pagoda, taking a slight sip from tea that¡¯s held up by mist. His eyes are a canvas of stars, rather than proper orbs with proper pupils. He lets out a sigh, and it is like the steam rising from a kettle.

    ¡°Another one,¡± He grumbles, ¡°every decade it''s the same game.¡±

    ¡°Master?¡± Says a disciple from behind him, one of his best actually.

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing Sasa, I¡¯d just prefer if the Godbeasts stayed asleep for once.¡±

    ¡°As do we all master. No one prays for a beast tide.¡±

 Ch.44:No One Prays For A Beast Tide

    Now, you might be wondering, what, exactly, is a beast tide?

    Well my friends, the answer is rather simple, it¡¯s a rampage fueled by fear, when things that should not be woken rise from their slumber and shake the world.

    Eternity-Burns-Within-Me is one of these things.

    Six wings of an illustrious ochre casts shadows over the forest as it¡¯s heart beats for the first time in a decade. The whole earth shakes as the fires of radiant life pump through its veins and heat radiates. Everything within a hundred mile radius burns as things of twisted biology melt like wax. The ground surrounding the beast has turned to magma, it raises its head to the sky and lets out a screech that pierces the soul.

    The-Ape-Who-Does-Not-Speak rises to its challenge, it stands at half her height, but is bulging with grotesque muscles that have no hide to cover them. It beats its chest like a drum, slow and with the weight of thousands of tons, and bears its fangs.

    The-Empty-Maw¡¯s growls reverberate through the bones of all the creatures as her many tails whip and batter the surrounding treeline. She takes a step with a paw that does not exist and howls the tune of a million souls screaming.

    A-Dead-Wish simply materializes from thin air, a thing of screaming faces and tortured biology. It looks like a ball, with so many arms and legs and faces. Blood that glows with vitality pours from the crevices and feeds the forest floor.

    To-Burrow-And-Sleep rises from under the earth, standing on two feet as it takes in the smell of impending violence. It has twelve claws that are tipped black, and skin made of granite

    The trees are uprooted and sent flying as Eternity-Burns-Within-Me takes flight.

    -

    Zazalam is many things. hunter, father, leader.

    Right now he is tired of this shit.

    Seventeen decades he¡¯s lived, a reasonable number for a chieftain, and in each one there is a beast tide. At first they were horrifying, he remembers being only six when his eyes bore witness to the phoenix''s rise. As beasts raged in the canopy below and titans clashed at the centre of the forest, he was certain then, that it was the end of the world. So it was to his confusion that the rest of the tribe seemed unfazed by the disaster. Sure there was interest, but in the way one might find a fight between rivals entertaining, not as something truly and legitimately dangerous.

    Now he just finds it annoying. For a full month they¡¯ll make a mess of the forest, uprooting plants and trampling over saplings. He¡¯s going to have to organize so much to get the forest back to the point where they can live without the hunt. This deep into the DarkWoods only those like Zazalam can hunt alone, the rest have to go in hunting parties, and they often come back with casualties.

    ¡°Zaza,¡± says a woman with a bushy tail, sharp fangs, and grey fur covering her features. She rubs at the base of one of his antlers, where there¡¯s a persistent itch from the shedding. ¡°Why not come back inside? The tea¡¯s going to get cold if you keep gawking at the Godbeasts.¡±

    Zazalam snorts through his muzzle, ¡°I am not gawking, Serena, I am simply planning for the nuisances that will follow.¡±

    Serena sighs, ¡°ever the diligent leader, have you ever thought that perhaps a break would help with your work? Spend some time with little Yazar and Yizim?¡±

    ¡°I will spend what I have, I simply have little.¡±

    ¡°You have plenty, Zaza, you just choose to put it all into the tribe. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to let Rokknar take over some of your responsibilities.¡±

    ¡°The boy is too young,¡± Zazalam grunts, ¡°He¡¯s only in his second decade, I cannot put the burdens of a chieftain on his shoulders.¡±

    ¡°But you don¡¯t have to, make it slow, so that he can learn.¡±

    He lets out a long sigh, ¡°perhaps¡±

    -

    He is staring at the new hue of orange on the horizon.

    It is not the sun, it cannot be the sun. The sun doesn¡¯t rise from the south-west. Besides, even without the ear piercing cry of the phoenix or the haunting howls of Aetheria, he knows what the light represents. He lets out a heavy sigh.

    ¡°Master Jorin,¡± someone asks behind him.

    Jorin turns to see a boy with blue eyes who¡¯s practically shaking with¡­excitement?

    That can¡¯t be right.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°When will the tide get here?¡±

    Jorin shrugs his shoulders, ¡°about a week or two,¡±

    ¡°Can I train with a weapon?¡±

    Jorin squints at the boy, ¡°why?¡±

    ¡°I want to take part!¡±

    Jorin blinks, ¡°you want to what?¡±

    ¡°Torrak!¡± he hears an exclamation of shock from his right as a red-eyed girl goes to grab the boy''s arm.

    ¡°A thousand apologies master! He must have hit his head too much during sparring because he is not participating in a beast tide, isn¡¯t that right Torrak?¡±

    ¡°But Pinia-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t but me, I¡¯ll but you! No. Beast. Tides.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± he grumbles, ¡°but we¡¯re at least going to spar to make up for it, right?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± Pinia chirps as she drags him away.

    Jorin lets out another heavy sigh.

    Children.

    -

    Here¡¯s the thing with beast tides and Tantra.

    She¡¯s never been in one.

    There are only so many foci with Godbeasts afterall, and none of them are close to Ralth, so while the trading routes are affected, the city itself? Not so much. So she wasn¡¯t prepared for how loud the start of one would be.

    She can barely hear Rakan through the ringing of her ears.

    ¡°We¡¯re gonna have to hurry,¡± he muses, ¡°don¡¯t want to get caught out in the open¡±

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be too far from the village,¡± Etra says, ¡°we can help them with the defence once we get there.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s surprisingly considerate of you,¡± Kisrin points out.

    ¡°Lay off baby-face, everyone helps during a tide.¡±

    ¡°Everyone helps during a tide,¡± Yorin echoes, ¡°you should turn that into a saying, It¡¯s catchy¡±

    Tantra rubs at her chin, ¡°yes, that could do quite well in advertising¡­hmmm.¡±

    Etra raises a brow, ¡°you know, sometimes I forget you¡¯re a filthy merchant.¡±

    ¡°Why? It¡¯s my most endearing quality.¡±

    ¡°Suuure.¡±

    -

    The village of Terkat is a humble place of humble origins, originally a collection of separate villages combining for the sake of safety when this was considered the edge of the empire, where bandits, spirit beasts, and often cultivators were an everyday threat to their fragile peace. It is neither small nor large, sitting comfortably in the middle.

    Etra didn¡¯t think she¡¯d see the sight of her home for another decade, and like a vile plague, self-doubt and regret creep into her mind.

    None of that.

    She¡¯s a strong cultivator now.

    She can do this.

    ¡°Yorin?¡± Etra asks.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s your home?¡±

    ¡°On the northeast side, why?¡±

    ¡°I just have something I need to do.¡±

    ¡°No need to be so mysterious, Etra, if you want to see your family you''re free to do so,¡± Kisrin comments.

    Etra gives a small smile, ¡°thanks.¡±

    Tantra gives her a knowing look, ¡°good luck.¡±

    Etra nods and heads off from the group, it¡¯s not the same now that she has the robes, she doesn¡¯t have to worry about pushing through crowds because everyone simply makes space for her. Cultivators are above the rabble after all, or at least that¡¯s what conventional society espouses. Personally she just sees cultivation and those who walk in it for what it is.

    A path to strength.

    There¡¯s nothing wrong with that, she just doesn¡¯t get all the poetics about honour and glory. Feels like a way for cultivators to make themselves bigger than what they are, which is essentially spirit beasts in the shape of humans. Not the best analogy but it¡¯s not wrong.

    Both seek strength, both dedicate their lives to blood, and both walk the path to immortality.

    Although that path does differ between the two.

    As she walks she takes in the sights, the people of Terkat are hardy, but they also have a talent for presentation. Every house is perfectly maintained, strays don¡¯t litter the streets, and everyone walks in clothing that seems almost regal with how clean it is. She never really liked that part of the village, always felt fake, like they were pretending to be more than just worthless peasants.

    She knows they¡¯re not really worthless, the many villages that dot Rikidan provides the sustenance the big cities need to even exist. But they¡¯re treated as worthless, by both the empire and the nobility. Worked to the bone for their meager finances to be taxed away into the hands of those who claim authority over them. Hells, they even need permission from their baron just to travel. A part of her was worried when they took Erick, but another part reminded her that they¡¯re all cultivators, and cultivators get to break the rules.

    Not because they bring value, but because they¡¯re dangerous.

    Etra realized the value of being dangerous at a rather young age when she personally witnessed baron Ghalal be humiliated in front of the whole village by a cultivator, and do nothing. She¡¯ll never forget that memory, or how the cultivator berated him for his poor management.

    It was cathartic.

    Etra stops in front of a home with a door made of some sort of conifer. Not a mark to be seen, pristine as all the others. The home isn¡¯t very tall, nor is it very big, but it serves its purpose of sheltering the small family that rests inside it. The roof is made of thatch and-

    She¡¯s stalling.

    Etra takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

    A sense of dread wells up in her heart as she hears footsteps approaching, she hoped they wouldn¡¯t be home.

    The door swings open to the sight of a vibrant man with a slight stubble and stocky frame.

    ¡°Etra!¡± he exclaims, surprised, ¡°what are you doing here girl, shouldn¡¯t you be back in the sect? Oh, where are my manners, come in, come in. Raya has some tea steaming over in the kettle, and there¡¯s plenty to share.¡±

    Etra gives the man a sad smile, ¡°thank you, Mr.Roan.¡±

 Ch.45:Are We Having A Sleepover?

    Tantra likes Terkat.

    It is the definition of prim and proper, not a speck of dust to be seen, all the residents taking immaculate care of themselves and their clothing. They have, quite frankly, put in a significant amount of time and effort into their image.

    Tantra approves.

    Which is all the more embarrassing when she walked into such a pristine place with an arm that looks like it needs an amputation. Rakan, lucky bastard, no longer has to worry about his guts so it¡¯s just her that gets the frequent glances of disgust. They think they''re being sneaky, but being observant is a valuable trait amongst merchants.

    She doesn¡¯t do anything about it of course, she is not one of those cultivators, but still, it hurts. Especially since Yorin¡¯s family will have to see her in this state.

    Yorin knocks on the door of a rather large house, at least compared to the surrounding buildings, it¡¯s miniscule compared to Tantra¡¯s residence in Ralth but that¡¯s not really a fair comparison, they wait until eventually the door opens to reveal a young woman.

    ¡°Yoyo? what are you-oh my gods what is that smell?¡± the woman of sharp features, a distinct contrast from Yorins, says as she scrunches her nose.

    Yorin beams a smile so bright Tantra thinks she might go blind, ¡°Ronoka! Don¡¯t worry about that, that¡¯s just Tantra, she¡¯s hurt, but it¡¯ll heal! She¡¯s strong like that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m assuming Tantra is the one with the mangled arm?¡± She says while pinching her nose.

    Yorin nods happily, ¡°yup!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, honourable Ronoka,¡± Tantra says as she bows, her right arm makes the fist where her left palm would be if she could move the arm.

    ¡°A pleasure to make yours as well cultivator, now get inside, have you even washed that wound?¡±

    Ronoka drags Tantra into the house, seemingly ignoring the fact that Tantra is obviously a cultivator and that handling one like you might a child is not a good idea for long term survival. Then again she¡¯s also turning fourteen in¡­three days? Probably doesn¡¯t sell the image of the big bad cultivator very well, not that she wants to be seen that way. The others enter the house bemused, not even given the chance to introduce themselves to the woman.

    Tantra is plopped by a table as Ronoka goes to grab a bucket of water and a rag.

    There are three children just staring at her, one of which looks barely old enough to walk.

    The oldest of them points a finger at her, ¡°sis, that¡¯s a ghoul, why are you helping a ghoul?¡±

    ¡°Yorik! Don¡¯t be rude, this is a guest, and a cultivator.¡±

    ¡°Why do they smell like a ghoul then?¡±

    ¡°I got hit by a spirit beast,¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°Sure thing ghoul-girl.¡±

    Yorin chuckles, ¡°ghoul-girl, I like that.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t, so we won¡¯t be using it.¡±

    ¡°Whatever you say ghoul-girl,¡± Erick chirps.

    Tantra groans, then hisses as the rag rubs against infected flesh.

    Yorin looks from side to side, ¡°where¡¯s mom and dad?¡±

    Ronoka does another very painful pass at Tantra¡¯s arm as old scabs and pus ridden flesh is peeled off, letting small amounts of blood flow onto the rag and into the bucket. Tantra¡¯s pretty sure this isn¡¯t how you¡¯re supposed to treat a wound but it would be rude to stop her now, besides, she¡¯s in purification, she can heal it back.

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    ¡°Aria got her contractions, so mom¡¯s helping with that.¡±

    ¡°Aria¡¯s getting a kid?!? Who¡¯s the father?¡±

    ¡°Jorobol, they got married just after you left¡±

    ¡°Wow,¡± Yorin say with wonder, ¡°I¡¯m gonna be an uncle¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get too excited, isn¡¯t your whole cultivator gig gonna take you out in the big wide world?¡±

    Yorin harrumphs, ¡°the plan was always to help the village Ronoka, you know that.¡±

    ¡°And every day I wish you¡¯d change your mind. Why chain yourself to this village when you can be free?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not chaining, it¡¯s helping!¡±

    ¡°It is chaining,¡± Rakan interrupts, ¡°cultivators go on journeys kid, that¡¯s just what we do, tying yourself to one place for the rest of your life will only stunt your growth.¡±

    Yorin scowls, ¡°whatever,¡± he says, ¡°anyway where¡¯s dad?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s sleeping, his back¡¯s been hurting again so he¡¯s just resting upstairs right now.¡±

    Yorins face falls, ¡°he hasn¡¯t been working the fields has he?¡±

    ¡°Yorin, we¡¯re not so flush with coins that we can afford more help, and before you even say it, no, it¡¯s not your godsdamned fault. All of us are proud of you.¡±

    Yorin looks down and kicks the ground, ¡°okay.¡±

    Ronoka sighs, ¡°hopeless dope.¡±

    -

    Tantra is staring at a stone.

    Well it¡¯s a Qi stone, so not exactly a stone. Qi stones aren¡¯t purely physical afterall, it¡¯s why the material is so absorbent of atmospheric Qi. She doesn¡¯t know how an inanimate object can contain metaphysical properties but she¡¯s not one to question the findings of lifelong researchers.

    ¡°See anything yet?¡± Rakan says idly as he lays on the cot Ronoka spread out for him.

    Tantra huffs, ¡°other than the pale majesty of this stone? No.¡±

    ¡°Try harder,¡± He says helpfully.

    Tantra grumbles as she continues to stare at the stone, looking for anything out of the ordinary, or something mystical to the eye. Everyone has a sixth sense for Qi, though only the true masters have it developed enough to be of some use. The rest of the cultivator world has to satisfy themselves by pairing they¡¯re Qi sense with a literal sense.

    Which unfortunately involves a lot of staring at a stone.

    Her and Rakan are in a corner of the living area while Yorin entertains his siblings and Erick in some sort of game where he pretends to be a beast and then the hunters.

    She stares intensely at the stone, it¡¯ll reveal its secrets, eventually.

    ¡°So you¡¯re my little brother''s master,¡± a voice says from beside her, breaking her focus.

    She turns to see Ronoka staring down Rakan.

    That is not a smart course of action.

    ¡°Only student I¡¯ve got is this kid and the munchkin,¡± Rakan replies, ¡°everyone else is just a tag along.¡±

    ¡°But you do teach him.¡±

    ¡°Occasionally.¡±

    Ronoka puts a fist into her palm and bows deep to Rakan.

    ¡°This one thanks you for your generosity, and hopes that you continue to provide guidance to this one''s little brother.¡±

    Rakan has a look that¡¯s mixed between shocked and amused, ¡°you¡¯ve got guts girl, you should be careful not to get gored. Few are the cultivators that would respond kindly to the implications in that statement.¡±

    Ronoka doesn¡¯t move from her bow.

    Rakan chuckles, ¡°alright, I¡¯ll keep helping your brother, now get up and leave us alone, you''re distracting my student.¡±

    -

    Zara walks through the village square with exhausted steps, Aria¡¯s delivery was not an easy one, the baby came out the wrong way, which scared her something fierce as she¡¯s seen more than one young woman die from just that. But it¡¯s done now, and a new life graces Terkat. A small smile plays on her face, time certainly does fly, it feels like it was just yesterday when her niece was running around and being a general menace to the village.

    Now she gets to learn the joys and horrors of motherhood.

    Zara really should help her, the poor woman¡¯s going to lose so much sleep.

    She lets out a small chuckle as she goes to open the door.

    She is greeted with a sight that baffles her.

    three cultivators and a child are sleeping on her home''s floor, covered in the fur of blankets. The oldest of them is snoring like a bear in hibernation. There¡¯s a girl with a¡­oh wow that arm is really fucked up. Zara shakes her head, she¡¯s too tired to deal with this right now.

    Tomorrow.

 Ch.46:Say It Right!

    Tantra takes a sip from her tea, dignified and demure, just as Ral had taught her. It¡¯s important to sell an image when surrounded by nobles, and in this case that image is to be a dignified and proper lady. Even though the noble ladies don¡¯t have to maintain the same image.

    ¡°Then he said I was a ¡®star too bright for one''s eyes¡¯,¡± a collection of girls giggle.

    ¡°That¡¯s so pass¨¦, he obviously got all his romantic advice from his father¡± One of them says.

    ¡°Perhaps he should try his luck with the whores,¡± another comments.

    The first girl snorts, ¡°honestly, who does he think I am? If he wants to speak to me he might as well say something worthy of my name. Tantra, what do you think?¡±

    Tantra, frankly, can¡¯t muster the energy to care. She¡¯d rather be doing anything else than to hang around these pampered patsies, but connections are important for a reason, and sometimes when life shoves a sour lemon down your throat, the best course of action is to swallow.

    ¡°Simply foolish, Lady Synthia, that a mere viscount¡¯s son would think to impress you with such paltry flattery.¡±

    Synthia barks a laugh, ¡°this is why I like you Tantra, you always have a way with making simple statements sound grandiose¡±

    ¡°My sincerest gratitudes my lady¡±

    ¡°None needed little Tantan.¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°Tantan?¡±

    Synthia smiles something wicked, ¡°that¡¯s what you go by now right? A silly little nickname from a daemon girl of all things. I¡¯m honestly surprised you managed to tolerate her presence for so long, let alone become friends.¡±

    The other girls giggle as Tantra stares, ¡°apologies my lady, have I done something to offend?¡±

    Synthia sighs, ¡°that¡¯s your problem Tantan, you''re somehow both smart and dumb. You really think the rest of us don¡¯t see how you think you''re above us? Always saying the right things at the right times, like a puppet designed to be inoffensive. Honestly, it¡¯s exhausting to deal with you, if it weren¡¯t for your father you¡¯d just be another peasant to ignore.¡±

    Synthia takes a long sip of her tea and lets out a satisfied sigh, ¡°and now you¡¯re a cultivator, I can only imagine how insufferable you¡¯ll be once we see each other again¡±

    -

    Tantra wakes to the clattering of plates and the chattering of tongues. It¡¯s all a little bit of a haze as she has yet to fully wake up. She sits up from her cot, stretches, and lets loose a long yawn. Her brain reminds her that she is, in fact, in the presence of company, and proper ladies don¡¯t yawn in front of company.

    Tantra grumbles at herself, who is she to tell herself how to act?

    Which, since she thought it, is a perfectly logical statement.

    ¡°Someone¡¯s finally awake,¡± she hears a boisterous voice say, ¡°come cultivator, join us at our table so that we may break the fast.¡±

    Tantra blinks the haze out of her eyes to see eleven people staring at her, a few clearly impatient.

    ¡°Apologies,¡± Tantra says, holding back another yawn, ¡°I seem to have lost myself to the cot.¡±

    The man who spoke earlier snorts, and it is loud, ¡°sleeping on the road will do that to you cultivator, or should I call you Tantan? My son says that is your name.¡±

    Tantra scowls at Yorin, ¡°my name is Tantra¡± she says.

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    The man nods, ¡°very well Tantan.¡±

    ¡°Tantra.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡±

    Tantra glowers, ¡°he''s worse than you Yorin¡±

    A few chuckles radiate from the table.

    ¡°My husband has a way with teasing people,¡± a woman says from beside the man, ¡°but hurry and come, I¡¯ve made quite the meal to celebrate the occasion¡±

    -

    ¡°Greetings honoured cultivators, it is an honour that you would grace this one¡¯s humble village,¡± An older gentleman of grey hair and profuse wrinkles bows deep to Rakan and Tantra in the middle of the village square, there¡¯s quite the audience surrounding them, though most give a generous amount of space.

    Those that don¡¯t are children that have a tendency to get pulled back into the crowd.

    Rakan chuckles, ¡°it is about as much of an honour as housing a wolf, honoured elder¡±

    The elder doesn¡¯t rise from his bow, and doesn¡¯t react to Rakans comment. Rakan sighs, ¡°you are the leader of this village?¡±

    ¡°Only so much as the village allows, the baron is the true head¡±

    ¡°I care little for nobility, so long as you''re the one organizing the defence for the beast tide.¡±

    ¡°I am¡±

    Rakan smiles, ¡°good, we have quite a bit to talk about then.¡±

    -

    Etra and Yorin are sparring.

    Mostly to entertain children, but also to train. They can¡¯t use proper weapons for their spars yet, their bodies are too fragile, but soon, so long as they keep practicing the control exercise. She''s surprised Kisrin hasn¡¯t reached three threads yet, he¡¯s only a few months behind where she started, and it¡¯s been a year at this point. Did the librarian really expect her to reach three in little over half a year? The longer it takes the more she¡¯s impressed by her own progress through control.

    She still vomits blood when she goes too far in controlling four threads though.

    A not insignificant part of her wonders why she¡¯s trying so hard, she¡¯s already reached foundation, why maintain the effort to advance quickly.

    That part is reminded of the bear.

    She¡¯s had dreams, frequently, of that encounter.

    A lot of them involve her and her friends dying because she was too weak.

    She knows it¡¯s foolish, knows that she can¡¯t be expected to match such a thing so early into the journey, but it doesn¡¯t change the fact that if she doesn¡¯t get stronger she¡¯ll eventually be dead, and so will those she cares about.

    Then there will be no merchant Tantra, just a rotting corpse.

    So she keeps pushing, further and further, she¡¯s gotten to her elbow with the rope of four, a marked improvement and proof of her efforts. She¡¯s also started to boost her blood while moving, just a little bit, to test if she has enough control to actually follow through with her plans.

    A few times she misses and boosts her heart, leading to a kind of crushing pain that doesn¡¯t go away for hours, but mostly she¡¯s on point.

    Maybe if she reaches five threads she can manage a continuous stream.

    -

    Cultivating a dao isn¡¯t the same as proper cultivation. You can¡¯t just brute force your way through enlightenment, you have to understand. Some of the peasantry think that to cultivate dao one must broaden their understanding of the concept, while they¡¯re not technically wrong, that method is extremely slow and difficult. Take a simple dao, like that of the spear, can you, as a practitioner, learn how to perfect every aspect of the weapon, or would it be easier to master specific motions?

    So the way most cultivators interact with dao is to dig deeper into what they already know, until the dao changes into something that fits that specific application.

    Jorin received enlightenment long ago, when he used to walk from one battlefield to another. It helps mainly with endurance, keeping him fighting for much longer than cultivation would normally allow.

    Which is convenient for a beast tide.

    He rips a worm/wolf thing in half as a rodent of sharp teeth and a dozen eyes bites at his ankles. Jorin crushes the thing under his foot and moves on to the next beast. Jorin is like any cultivator, he enjoys the thrill of combat, but not when that thrill might come at the cost of children. It tempers his more bloodthirsty side, to be reminded of those that fight beside and those that wait behind. He wishes the elders would have brought some inner disciples, considering all the violence they¡¯ve had to endure, but no, apparently they aren¡¯t worthy of assistance. His heart beats with a fire that might be rage, fueling him, guiding him.

    He is taking on half of the tide all on his own, something only possible because of how much Qi he¡¯s stored waiting for this moment. If he¡¯s judicious, it might last him the whole month, the core is the easiest part to cultivate, you just have to fill it, then drain it, and considering most aspects of cultivation require Qi it¡¯s not exactly a big ask.

    A claw manages to cut through the skin of his forearm as he grunts and drives a fist through a sloth with four arms and a disturbing smile.

    The strength of his skin isn¡¯t strong enough to be impenetrable to the claws and teeth of proper beasts, and he expects he¡¯ll need to visit the medicine hall by the end of this, but that¡¯s fine.

 Ch.47:Curry

    Etra is¡­different, not lighter, per say, but more, she doesn¡¯t know, lively? Tantra¡¯s happy for her, what she had to do surely wasn¡¯t easy, but it seems to have gone as well as it could have, all things considered. Etra doesn¡¯t talk about it, so Tantra doesn¡¯t ask. She¡¯s well versed enough in social dynamics to understand that poking a wound while someone seems joyfull is just plain rude.

    ¡°C¡¯mon baby-face, I¡¯m barely even trying!¡± Etra shouts nasally.

    Kisrin spits out blood, ¡°I¡¯d say your nose is telling a different story.¡±

    ¡°Puh-lease, this is barely a flesh wound.¡±

    Kisrin smirks as he gets back into his stance and continues their brawl disguised as a sparring session. They¡¯ve been doing that a lot lately, beating each other senseless to the cheers of the village children. Is this some kind of cultivator wooing tactic? She wouldn¡¯t be surprised, cultivators are all about violence, why wouldn¡¯t they insert it into their love lives as well? She¡¯s kinda happy for them, it¡¯s nice to see a budding relationship among friends.

    Zara walks next to where Tantra is sitting and hands her a cup of milk.

    ¡°My sincerest thanks honourable Zara,¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°Oh, no need, we¡¯re much more relaxed here in the village. Although most people probably wouldn¡¯t want to be near you.¡±

    ¡°Because of the arm?¡±

    Zara chuckles, ¡°that and it''s just good sense to avoid cultivators, can never tell between the good and the homicidal.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem to be affecting you much¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s because Yorin trusts you. That boy may be a fool, but he has a good eye for people, courtesy of his mother of course.¡±

    Tantra chuckles and takes a sip of her milk. It¡¯s not bad, just has no cane sugar, but can she really expect them to afford something like that? Besides, milk on it¡¯s own is decent enough flavour.

    ¡°So I hear you¡¯re staying for the beast tide?¡±

    Tantra nods, ¡°we wanted to stay a while anyway, so Yorin could spend his time with you and the rest of his family.¡±

    Zara gives a warm smile, ¡°That''s good, I didn¡¯t expect to see my son so soon, and it would hurt my heart to see him leave so quickly.¡±

    Tantra gives a sympathetic smile, she knows the pain of being separated from family. But¡­soon, soon she¡¯ll see them again, and everything will be right with the world. Well not everything, but the expression still stands.

    ¡°So I hear you¡¯ve been acting as a tutor for my son,¡± Zara probes.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ve actually managed to teach him how to read, along with other assortments of scattered knowledge.¡±

    Tantra just nods slowly, not really knowing where this is going.

    ¡°I know merchants well enough to know that nothing comes for free, and you¡¯ve invested plenty into my son.¡±

    Tantra blinks, it doesn¡¯t sound like an accusation, more of a genuine question. Tantra wracks her brain and finds¡­nothing.

    That¡¯s odd.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she shrugs, ¡°he was teachable and I could teach, so that¡¯s how it worked out.¡±

    ¡°No other reason?¡±

    ¡°What other reason would there be?¡±

    Zara taps her chin, ¡°oh, maybe to recruit him to your company as a guard, or, maybe¡­love?¡±

    Tantra spits out her milk and starts coughing violently, to an amused Zara.

    ¡°No!¡± Tantra says a little too loud, ¡°absolutely not! Yorin is like¡­a¡­brother?¡±

    She seems confused by her own words, does she think of him like a brother?

    When did that happen?

    ¡°Hmmm, well, we have some time to work on that,¡± Zara nods to herself.

    Tantra has the sudden urge to escape this village.

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    -

    Tantra sits in meditation, slowly enforcing her will on the Qi that enters her lungs and integrates it into her core. She¡¯s gotten pretty good at the process, familiarity breeding proficiency and all that. Now almost all the Qi she breathes ends up in her core, unfortunately that doesn¡¯t mean much out here, as far as they are from a foci. But still, it¡¯s more Qi to work with, and she¡¯ll take what she can get.

    Maybe she should try something else?

    Some people swear by absorbing Qi through their skin, although the willpower for that needs to be tremendous. The method she¡¯s using after all takes advantage of the lungs natural functions and applies it to Qi gathering. The only thing the skins got going for it is physical contact.

    Though it would be a pretty good way to train her will¡­

    Why is she even considering this? She needs the Qi for her arm to keep fighting the infection, and she¡¯s debating on a new training method?

    How much has that godsforsaken sect changed her?

    She¡¯s supposed to be practical.

    Though she does need a stronger will to even consider doing anything with intention.

    Hmmm, maybe she could try gathering faster?

    Yes, that sounds both efficient for training and practical for acquiring the necessary Qi.

    Tantra gives herself a pat on the back for the marvellous idea, truly she is a genius, sometimes, occasionally.

    She does know a lot for her age, that was proven by how Yorin seemed to only know about crop rotations before she crammed some knowledge into that head of his. He¡¯s not even an outlier, if anything he¡¯s on the slightly smarter end of people she¡¯s met at the sect, much as she hates to admit it. How can such a buffoon be in possession of a brain?!?

    Truly, life is filled with wonders.

    Kisrin, for all his formality and general intellect, barely knows how to read. She never considered teaching him because¡­he never asked. Did she really spend upwards of a year with the boy and not consider being his tutor?

    Where¡¯s a library when you need one?

    Well, there is one in the village, she checked, it¡¯s just pathetic. Well organized and cared for, but there were only ten books on display, and all of them were stories, which¡­wouldn¡¯t be the worst for teaching.

    Hmm.

    She nods internally to herself, yes, that is what she¡¯ll do while they¡¯re here. Might as well teach Erick and the other children as well while she¡¯s at it. She just has to make sure it doesn¡¯t cut too much into her gathering, she¡¯d rather not lose her arm, which is just about the only advice the local healer gave her, much to her chagrin.

    That and carving out the infected parts.

    Which does not sound medically advisable so she¡¯s not doing it.

    She wishes Toka was here.

    -

    The village is bustling with activity as the need to prepare for the upcoming tide becomes an ever present necessity, stakes are set into the ground, pits are dug, and arrows are forged. Etra¡¯s apparently the daughter of a smithy so she spends most of her days at home, helping her parents. Yorin and Kisrin are helping with the stakes while she is doing a whole lot of nothing.

    On account of having only one functioning arm.

    It¡¯s okay, when the tide comes she¡¯ll be fighting so she can contribute then.

    ¡°Hey ghoul-girl,¡± Yorik says.

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

    ¡°Fix your arm and i¡¯ll think about it¡±

    Tantra grumbles, ¡°what do you want?¡±

    He looks from side to side, then gives her a serious expression, before handing her two coppers, ¡°you up for some work?¡±

    ¡°Boy, this is literally nothing to me.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon! At least hear me out!¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°fine.¡±

    -

    Yorin skips back to his home, happy as a hen, he¡¯s home!

    Sure they¡¯ll be leaving after a few months but he got to see his family again, much sooner than he thought even, and if he can just get to three threads in that silly control exercise, maybe Tantra and Rakan will tell him how he can advance past the first step in less than a decade. He doesn¡¯t really get it, control is practically useless in the face of meridians, so why even bother?

    But has to be relevant somehow, Tantra wouldn¡¯t lead him in circles after all, and either way he¡¯s still exercising daily, so it''s not like he¡¯s really losing anything except his patience. Threading Qi is really frustrating!

    He can barely get himself to do it for an hour let alone three, and Tantra, ever since the bear, has used every opportunity to either meditate or train control. How she does it he¡¯ll never know, but the dedication is impressive.

    As he approaches his home something feels¡­off.

    He narrows his eyes, looks from side to side, but he finds nothing other than the usual sight of villagers milling about.

    Hmmm, is he being paranoid?

    He takes a hesitant step towards his home.

    Nothing happens.

    He takes another.

    Nothing happens.

    He opens the door to his home slowly and cautiously.

    That¡¯s when it hits him.

    The smell of curry.

    Behind the table are a satisfied looking Zara, Tantra, and Yorik, with a kind of chicken curry sitting in front of them. filling the room with the scent of delicate spices, tender meat, and cooked rice.

    Yorin looks at them, then looks at the curry, then looks back at them.

    His smile is a wide one.

 Ch.48:A Room Of Walls

    It started with the earth shaking.

    Tantra¡¯s been in plenty of earthquakes, living on the coast will do that, but right now they''re still in the kingdom of Yormakar, on the north eastern edge of the empire¡¯s holdings. She doesn¡¯t know why but she knows that earthquakes don¡¯t happen so far from the coast, it just doesn¡¯t. So she knows, for a fact, that something is wrong.

    She isn¡¯t the only one as a bell tolls violently in the centre of the village, signaling some sort of attack. Instantly she gets up and grabs her kanab¨­, she isn¡¯t the only one as Kisrin grabs his own spear and Yorin rushes down the stairs with his guandoa.

    ¡°Well kids,¡± Rakan says, ¡°this is gonna be a real fun month.¡±

    -

    Jorin fights and he fights,

    forgetting the world,

    forgetting himself,

    all there is are his fists and things malformed and strange coming to bite and claw. He is no longer in possession of proper skin or proper robes, torn away by the horde of nightmares.

    A centipede with a human mask wails at him as he digs through it¡¯s thorax.

    A gorilla of seven feet with obsidian bone sprouting from every joint to make a thing of razors slashes multiple lines across his chest as he grabs it¡¯s upper jaw and rips off that half of its head.

    An opossum the size of a dog generates lighting on its fur and strikes him with the boom of thunder.

    He crushes it under foot, organs popping as it squeals in pain.

    He is not a thing of mercy, nor is he a thing of pain.

    He is the TITAN, and none of these things of tainted origins can stop him from his purpose.

    Right now his purpose is to kill.

    -

    Arrows flew through the night sky.

    There were quite a few villagers posted on watch in case this exact scenario happened, and other than rushing to report the tide, they pellet the beasts with arrows. It¡¯s mostly mongrels, hundreds and hundreds of mongrels. There are spirit beasts as well, running and trampling over their lessers, but they number in the much more manageable range of a few dozen.

    The arrows kill quite a few mongrels, three hundred archers raining a constant barrage, but the spirit beasts don¡¯t seem to care, running forward despite being made into pincushions of pain. Behind them hundreds more rush towards the village in a frantic frenzy.

    Tantra looks on, absolutely horrified.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Rakan says, ¡°most of them will just pass by the village, the rest¡¯ll attack, in their state of mindless panic, but they won¡¯t be difficult to deal with so long as we¡¯re strategic about it¡±

    ¡°How do any villages survive¡­this?¡±

    ¡°Easily, you just have to be prepared. Always keep that in mind kid, get enough mortals to grind and you can take on just about anything, except for Godbeasts, but you get the point.¡±

    Tantra just stares at the cloud of dust and the things making it, there¡¯s no sense of organization, no sense of order. They look like a stampede from the hells. Hooves, paws, and claws overturning clumps of dirt as they get closer and closer to the stakes.

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    And consequently to them.

    Then.

    The first is impaled, and then a hundred more, much of the tide simply circles around the village, and a primal part of her fears for the fact that beasts could appear behind them, where they are undefended.

    She pushes it down deep into her soul and focuses on the violence as mongrels and beasts make it past the barrier and start to charge the line of spearmen.

    She boosts her legs and joins the fray.

    -

    Soma is meditating.

    It¡¯s the only thing he can do in this hell of steel walls. That and exercise, but he prefers meditation, it makes time pass quicker, and distracts him from his thoughts. He never wants to confront his thoughts in this place, that way leads to madness, he knows this intimately. He doesn¡¯t know how long he¡¯s been here, the measure of time being counted in the number of meals he¡¯s been served rather than anything concrete.

    Forty-seven, if you were wondering.

    You must have been wondering, afterall, you¡¯re the only one to keep him company in this place. Only thing to keep him sane.

    ¡°Oh sweetheart,¡± says his mother, ¡°you should just listen to your father, then he doesn¡¯t need to do this to you.¡±

    And what would be the point of that? To escape the pain? Cultivators do not run from pain, mental or physical. They take it, and they grow from it, such is the way. He won¡¯t surrender because of pain, he will outlast father and make him see.

    ¡°See what? That you refuse sound advice, that you¡¯d rather risk yourself than be safe?¡±

    What is the point in safety? The world is a harsh place, not fit for weaklings. Will he cower, like a mongrel to a beast? No, Soma will walk the path of strength, no matter what tribulations he must face.

    ¡°And if your mind breaks?¡± She asks, ¡°if you become nothing more than a raving madman? What then?¡±

    That won¡¯t happen, sure, it takes a while to recover from this place, but he will recover. His mind will heal and he will be ready.

    There is a sigh that echoes through the whole room ¡°fine.¡±

    And then you are gone.

    Alone again with his thoughts.

    Alone again with the walls.

    Alone again with the illusions.

    He¡¯s seen beaches, in this place, never out in the world, they¡¯re too far from the coast. He drinks from its waters and cleanses himself from the blood that dribbles down the walls. The sand is textureless, he¡¯s even tasted it to try.

    Tasted like nothing.

    But that¡¯s okay, he gets to eat some of the best food the sect can offer, it¡¯s too bad all the screaming tends to ruin his appetite. Honestly, what are they putting in the meat buns?

    Hmmm.

    He¡¯s thinking too much, that¡¯s not good, that¡¯ll only make things worse.

    Maybe you should go to sleep.

    No, we¡¯ve slept too much, the body won¡¯t tolerate more.

    What are we to do then, talk to ourselves?

    Am I such bad company?

    No, it just gets old after a while.

    Well, we need to talk to someone, or else the madness will take us.

    Who¡¯s to say we haven¡¯t already gone mad?

    I am.

    You¡¯re not reliable.

    Of course I am, I can still string thoughts, can¡¯t I?

    You know that¡¯s not what madness is.

    I know, I know.

    -

    There are so many.

    Tantra¡¯s beginning to see why it¡¯s called a tide, all she has to do is swing her club and she¡¯ll hit something. No skill, no practice, just pure brutality. That¡¯s all the tide asks of her, and so she delivers. The mongrels aren¡¯t much of a challenge, not anymore, not with boosting. She¡¯s pulped more than a few heads, crushing skulls and dispensing brain matter. The problem with there being as many as there are however, is the wounds she¡¯s accumulating. Most of the beasts don¡¯t actually attack, either running around the village, like it was a stone splitting a ravine, or going straight through with little care for the three thousand or so spearmen. They let the smaller mongrels pass, but they can¡¯t risk anything else.

    Tantra, bludgeons three mongrels at once, feeling the crunching of bone as she goes to swing again. She has to hit multiple at once, if only to keep up with the tide. Her and Rakan have their own spots in the formation, little clearings where they can fight without worry of hitting the villagers, she imagines that Rakan is doing much better than her.

    She¡¯s barely holding her own.

    It hasn¡¯t even been an hour.

    They¡¯re supposed to do this for a month?

    She grits her teeth and keeps swinging.

 Ch.49:This Isnt A Fight

    This isn¡¯t a fight.

    It is a culling.

    Eight days of things that were once regular fauna in a frenetic rush to get away. The sight is dumbfounding, are their survival instincts so broken by the Godbeasts? Tantra genuinely feels bad for them, but she can¡¯t exactly let them trample through the village. So she keeps swinging with her right arm as her left remains useless. She has to take breaks, frequently, once she exhausts either her Qi or body. Rakan¡¯s only taken two breaks, and he should be closing in on his third. She doesn¡¯t know how he does it, she assumed from the bear that he preferred quick spending for devastating results, but apparently he can be judicious.

    She¡¯s gonna have to start picking up on the habit because she¡¯s been filling and draining her core at a rate that cannot be maintained. She¡¯s been forcing herself to gather faster, to impose her will on the ambient Qi harder, so that she can keep up with the slaughter. It worked, for a while, but something¡¯s happening to her soul, like it¡¯s being squeezed, and the more she pushes that harder the constriction.

    She can tell, instinctively, that there is a threshold she does not want to cross, like stepping off a cliff into a raging ravine. It scares her, but she has to keep fighting.

    Why?

    Because her friends are fighting, and they¡¯re not like her, they won¡¯t survive being gored or impaled. Yet they¡¯re still putting in the effort. They¡¯re beside her, Yorin swinging his guandao in wide strokes, cutting down multiple mongrels at once as Kisrin stabs at a pace that beggars belief. Etra crushes heads with her iron staff, one by one but with an inevitability attached to her strikes. None of them can match Tantra, for each of them mongrels push through to the second line, but for Tantra? Nothing passes, nothing at all.

    The only problem is she can¡¯t maintain that kind of effort for longer than a-quarter-hour at which point she needs to gather for an hour (or three if she doesn¡¯t force herself to grab more quicker). Sometimes she keeps going, just without the boosting, and then the true difference in skill can be seen as she easily lets through the most of all of them.

    But right now?

    She¡¯s barely even started.

    Boosting her arm and shoulder, she brings down her club on the head of a bear, she doesn¡¯t recognize any mutations, but it¡¯s still a bear. Its skull caves in and it hits the dirt hard, the momentum of its charge causing it to flip and almost crushes Tantra.

    But she still has the presence of mind to dodge.

    A lizard the size of her palm tries to run past her but she crushes it underfoot as an opossum with razor sharp teeth jumps and bites her in the shoulder. She can¡¯t pull it off, one arm holding her kanab¨­, the other limp and useless. So in the fugue of combat she bites back.

    Her teeth sink into flesh and crushes its neck.

    During which she¡¯s swinging at a badger with three eyes.

    She boost her arm a little and pulps it just like the rest

    -

    Jorin is standing amidst a mountain of corpses, breathing deep and slow, barely able to hold himself up now that the violence is over. He has more wounds than not, but that¡¯s okay, his roots are deep, so he can survive most things without really caring, the only real way to kill cultivators like him is to destroy his heart or head. He still feels pain though, and exhaustion, and he¡¯s spent three weeks without rest, massacring mongrels and beasts.

    So he¡¯s tired.

    Tired enough where he really doesn¡¯t want to deal with a very specific person.

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    ¡°impressive,¡± a sword sliding on stone says, clapping his hands, ¡°you never cease to amaze, to think that one of your cultivation would be able to do so much, truly impressive.¡±

    ¡°What do you want, Dousou?¡±

    The man of sharp stone shrugs, ¡°still no respect for those above you? Truly your only flaw, If only you knew when to bow your head.¡±

    ¡°I bow to no one but Jorokan¡±

    A scoff, and the man is in front of him, ¡°hmmm, that¡¯s an impressive amount of wounds, you¡¯ll be needing the medicine hall, what say I take you there?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d rather eat a live eel¡±

    The man frowns, ¡°you really won¡¯t budge will you?¡±

    ¡°No¡±

    There is silence as the two men stare each other down, a stark contrast they are, with Jorin¡¯s shredded robes, torn apart flesh, and frayed braids. Dousou is immaculately dressed, as though he were going to court, he wears two robes purple over brown, and minerals adorn him like jewels, his skin is textured like stone, and has a slight gleam from the sun''s rays.

    ¡°You know what happened wasn¡¯t my fault Jorin, people die all the time, especially cultivators. They were simply too weak for our reality.¡±

    Jorin¡¯s nostrils flare, ¡°do not speak to me about blame, you were there, and all you did was watch.¡±

    He shrugs, ¡°If they couldn¡¯t protect themselves then they weren¡¯t worthy of the lives they held.¡±

    ¡°That''s enough now Dousou,¡± the crumbling of stone echoes throughout the field, ¡°no need to rub shit into the metaphorical wound as they say. Look at him, he deserves rest, not to deal with your brand of bullshit.¡±

    Jorin tilts his head to see a woman of cracked granite walking towards him, each step sending reverberations through the ground as though her petite frame were a mere illusion. She puts a hand on her chin and considers Jorin.

    ¡°You always end up so battered during a tide,¡± she says.

    ¡°Such is the way for cultivators¡±

    ¡°Oh we both know that¡¯s not the reason, but sure, let''s pretend that it is. Right now you need healers more than you need a conversation.¡±

    Jorin nods.

    ¡°I offered just earlier,¡± Dousou grumbles.

    ¡°And no one appreciates the display of blatant manipulation, Dousou, just accept that the man doesn¡¯t like you and move on.¡±

    -

    One.

    Yorin¡¯s guandao cuts through flesh and air, decapitating a caribou. He doesn¡¯t know how long it''s been, he doesn¡¯t care. There are beasts and this is his home, his purpose is clear. Clearer than it''s ever been. This is why he became a cultivator, why he bothered with the tournament at all.

    Well, some of it was because of how cool cultivators are.

    But it was mostly for his home!

    Two.

    A gerbil the size of a dog is bisected, the smell of offal invading his nostrils as its guts spill to the floor. A spirit beast, in one strike. Funny how some spirit beasts are no better than mongrels, when it comes to strength the form matters as much as Qi saturation, and rodents don¡¯t tend to be very intimidating, except in numbers of course. There¡¯s also bunnies, they breed like¡­well¡­bunnies.

    That metaphor doesn¡¯t really work with the original subject does it?

    Ah well, the point still stands.

    Three

    He got the idea of using numbers from Tantra. Apparently, a large goal is easier to reach if you break it up into small segments rather than tackling it all at once. He finds it working wonders, he barely feels tired at all! His body protests vehemently, but he can ignore it.

    It¡¯s a coward after all.

    So its opinion is therefore invalid!

    One

    -

    He takes a deep inhale from his pipe, letting the smoke burn through his lungs before letting it all out in a cloud. One of the wonders of cultivation, the more he damages his lungs, the stronger they get, so long as he infuses them with Qi.

    Far along as he is he doesn¡¯t really need to but it¡¯s always good to stay in practice.

    He takes another pull, tobacco with a¡­professional touch absorbs into his bloodstream, he lets out another breath of smoke.

    The ruined village doesn¡¯t really care how long he spends enjoying his pipe afterall. It was a decently sized one too, held about twenty three thousand. He¡¯s standing where the market square would have been, probably a lively sight, probably filled with moving bodies and hawking vendors.

    Now it¡¯s just moss and debris.

    He takes another pull.

    Not the first time he¡¯s seen a sight like this, probably won''t be the last either. Shame that, he doesn¡¯t exactly like this job, but someone has to do it.

    Now to find whoever did this.

 Ch.50:Persistance

    Tantra takes a breath,

    Qi flows into her lungs, and almost as fast as it enters her body it¡¯s absorbed into her core. Whatever is compressing her soul tightens, sending a shock of something throughout her body. It is not pain, she knows pain, this is some sort of concept given a voice. She can¡¯t parse what it is, it¡¯s not loud enough. But it will be, soon, she¡¯s getting so close to the tipping point.

    But that¡¯s okay.

    She won¡¯t cross.

    The same instinct that tells her where the limit is also gives her a kind of understanding. Crossing the threshold would be disastrous, in a way that¡¯s worse than death, and Tantra has no intention of experiencing it. But she needs to be faster, to go back and help her friends, so she edges the line, getting ever so close before she takes a break and returns to normal gathering. She wonders what it is she¡¯s doing, surely she didn¡¯t stumble upon another secret technique? That would just be ridiculous.

    It might be a new training method though, she doesn¡¯t really care though, all she knows is it helps her get back to the field where her friends are fighting faster. They take breaks too, but not as frequently as Tantra, since she has a use for her Qi other than circulation, and their bodies don¡¯t have to deal with the exhaustion of boosting. It¡¯s kind of funny, she needs to boost, just a little bit, to even walk now, yet boosting just exacerbates the issue.

    She takes in another breath,

    Something speaks to her, just a whisper, but she can tell that they¡¯re words, if only garbled into incoherent nonsense. That¡¯s another curiosity, what is talking to her? She can tell it''s a concept, so maybe the dao? But that doesn¡¯t make sense, if it were so easy to touch the dao everybody would have, and it doesn¡¯t¡­feel right. It feels twisted, like how a mutated spirit beast might compare to one that was born.

    It could be the dao, or something like the dao, but it is something she most certainly does not want.

    Something to ask Rakan. She wishes the tide would be over already, she feels as though an age has passed in just a few weeks, and she has so many questions that need answers. About beast tides and her soul situation both.

    Why do the beasts run to their deaths?

    Isn¡¯t their rampage a thing fueled by the need to survive? yet they run themselves through the spears of the villagers. What is it that the Godbeasts do to their minds for this kind of reaction? Why don¡¯t they attack each other? Why aren¡¯t humans affected?

    So, so many questions.

    -

    What is persistence?

    In simple terms, it is to keep trying, no matter the obstacle.

    A more obnoxious description would label it as the willpower to keep moving, keep pushing, keep struggling. It is to look at the world and spit in its eye, declaring that you, above all others, will surpass the shackles that confine us. Superseding logic, overlooking reason, it is the ability to just keep moving.

    Rakan knows all about persistence, even got a dao for it, almost two decades ago at this point. He never got a second one, much to his disappointment, but it¡¯s fine, he¡¯ll keep deepening his roots until he gets his due. That¡¯s the thing with dao¡¯s, you need to have knowledge on the subject, but that isn¡¯t enough to push you over the line.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    You need stress, you need a challenge.

    It¡¯s why he hasn¡¯t anchored, forcing him to strategize his fights rather than brute forcing it with Qi. It means he¡¯ll have more opportunities to acquire a dao, like right now, as he faces a horde of monsters on his own for days on end.

    Persistence.

    He organized this with the village elder, so that he may face the struggle and either succeed or fall. But he does not fall, he refuses to fall. They aren¡¯t even attacking him all that much, but the multitude of strikes he¡¯s weathered has left his body battered and bruised. He could dodge, but then he¡¯d miss the opportunity to strike, and therefore miss his opportunity at a dao.

    He¡¯s hoping to get a dao of bludgeoning, or perhaps the dao of the club. To do that he needs to strike, and to strike he needs firm footing, so he weathers the blows as a necessary sacrifice and pulls on his dao to keep him standing, to keep him striking.

    It¡¯s strange how Qi changes once a concept is introduced, his Qi a light teal, instead of the radiant white of an unmarked soul. It¡¯s not very good with fine application, which makes the blood infusion technique harder, but it¡¯s great for situations like these.

    He barely needs any intention at all to keep his body standing, barely needs to convince reality that he can keep fighting. Even though he¡¯s been battered with so many wounds. The mark on his soul and the color of his Qi refuse to let him fall.

    It¡¯s even a part of his dao¡¯s mutation.

    That¡¯s the second step, some people call it specializing but from his perspective it''s a mutation, because it changes how the dao works irrevocably. His stops him from falling, stops him from failing, when a wound should end him it simply won¡¯t, he¡¯ll make a declaration to reality every time he comes to fall, a simple sentence that has morphed his soul into a giant ethereal pillar, standing tall and strong through fierce winds.

    That pillar holds him up as he takes on dozens and dozens all alone constantly for days on end. He can feel his dao growing, ever so slowly, as he pushes through the pain and fatigue, but he¡¯s not trying to grow his dao, he¡¯s trying to get a new one.

    He grits his teeth and keeps fighting, keeps swinging.

    Until¡­

    He hits nothing but air.

    He blinks and looks around him, a mountain of corpses surrounding his person, and no more beasts charging.

    The tide is over.

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    -

    Tantra stares at the eyes of a corpse.

    If there ever was a silver lining to a beast tide, it would be the sheer amount of resources it leaves in its wake. When contained within the right preservation scripts, the amount of meat they¡¯ll harvest will be enough to feed the village for years. The pelts they skin could be used for clothing, bedding, or sold to passing merchants. Although the price will be ridiculously cheap considering the shear supply that was just dumped into the market. Then there¡¯s the bones, even a mongrel has an enhanced skeleton, making them perfect for tools, weapons, and arrows.

    Was it worth the lives lost?

    Probably, at least from a perspective completely detached from empathy.

    Tantra isn¡¯t so far gone, so mostly she¡¯s just mad, mostly at herself.

    You¡¯re too weak, the rage says, and she doesn¡¯t really have a rebuttal. She only did the job of maybe four villagers, while Rakan managed an equivalent of fifty. If her arm were healed, could she have done more? Probably, but that doesn¡¯t really matter does it? Their deaths aren¡¯t her fault, she didn¡¯t bring the tide and indeed she probably saved a few by taking their place. But if she could¡¯ve taken more of the burden?

    Perhaps the corpse in front of her wouldn¡¯t be a corpse at all.

    Its gaze isn''t accusing, nor sympathetic, nor anything. They¡¯re dead, they lost their ability for expression when their soul left for the cycle. Just a bag of meat and bone now, decorating the scenery with a rictus of¡­not pain, but fear? Must have been a quick death. At least there¡¯s that.

    ¡°Tantra,¡± Kisrin says from beside her.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s go back to Yorins place.¡±

    ¡°You go ahead, I have things to do.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t need us anymore¡± He points out.

    ¡°...¡±

    ¡°Tantra, c¡¯mon, let''s go.¡±

    Tantra lets out a long sigh, ¡°okay.¡±

 Ch.51:Bracelet

    Coincidence of coincidences, her birthday happened during the beast tide.

    Instead of a festival of good food and good company, she got beasts and blood, she¡¯s not sour at all about this fact. She wonders about what her family will do when she gets back, hopefully nothing too extravagant. She honestly just wants to see her family at this point, she¡¯s tired of all the violence and injuries.

    Speaking of, she got a few more!

    Nothing major, just cuts and punctures from claws and teeth, but they are plentiful, and a few hit her limp arm. Those hurt, a lot. But that¡¯s fine! She can dig through her very generous portions of meat with some level of glee as she finally doesn¡¯t have to be drowned in beasts. Tantra takes another stick of kabobs and eats them with practiced care. She''s never eaten kabobs before, never knew they existed, but there''s some novelty to a bunch of meat cubes on a stick. Also the spices the villagers used are sublime. There are children running and pestering doting parents as they rush through the crowds. A few of those that have lost someone are here, and you can tell by the way their smiles seem just a bit brittle, like a ceramic pot with just a hairline crack.

    They¡¯re sitting at the seat of honour with the elder, even though in the grand scheme of things they didn¡¯t really do all that much except for Rakan.

    Speaking of.

    ¡°Hey Rakan,¡± Tantra says after she¡¯s chewed and swallowed the cube of meat.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± He replies with his mouth distinctly full.

    Tantra scowls but decides not to comment, ¡°during the beast tide, I was doing this thing. Brute forcing gathering rather than finessing it, eventually it started to feel like something was squeezing my soul.¡±

    He raises a brow at her, ¡°that¡¯s compression kid.¡±

    ¡°Compression?¡±

    He takes a swig from his wineskin and sighs in contentment, ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡±

    ¡°Is it something I can train?¡±

    He snorts, ¡°Not even close to that point yet kid, but it could be good for your will, so long as you don¡¯t cross the screaming sign in your mind.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t¡±

    ¡°Good, then go ahead and keep doing it, won¡¯t do much for you but progress is progress as they say.¡±

    ¡°Hwhat are we talking about?¡± Yorin asks with a mouth full of food.

    ¡°Just one of the old ways people used to cultivate that got forgotten to time because it was generally useless compared to its peers.¡±

    ¡°How do you know about it then?¡± Kisrin says, thankfully being a gentlemen and swallowing before joining the conversation.

    Rakan takes a bite out of his scrag, ¡°Sect master¡¯s old, and if you get an audience with him he¡¯ll throw some random tidbits about cultivation at you. Mostly useless.¡±

    Etra scrunches her brow, ¡°why not teach something actually useful?¡±

    ¡°Probably something to do with worthiness, I don¡¯t know, I¡¯ve only talked to him a few times.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s he like?¡± Tantra asks.

    ¡°Grumpy.¡±

    ¡°Grumpy?¡±

    ¡°You making it a habit to repeat what I say? ¡®Cause it¡¯s getting annoying¡±

    ¡°Perhaps if you deigned this one with more than one word answers, this one wouldn¡¯t have to echo your words.¡±

    Rakan grumbles as Yorin snickers.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what to tell you, he seemed like he had a stick shoved six feet up his ass and talked like everything and everyone was a nuisance.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Sounds like my grandpa,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°maybe it''s something to do with age.¡±

    ¡°I hope not, I like being a chucklefuck.¡±

    All three kids stare at him.

    ¡°What?¡±

    They shake their heads in disappointment.

    -

    Yorin skips down the streets of Terkat, waving and at the passerbys he passes with a big smile plastered on his face. Terkat is clean, very clean, so clean it''s hard to keep up with. Yorin isn¡¯t exactly diligent with his image, much to Tantra¡¯s chagrin. But that¡¯s fine! Cultivators are meant to break the rules after all.

    Well hopefully not all the rules.

    An-y-way.

    He knows a lot of people in the market square, considering he lives right beside it, so he knows where to find what and how to haggle, not like Tantra with her blas¨¦ confidence but he¡¯s good enough where it gets him decent deals. Combine that with his robes and they practically give him the stuff for free.

    He gingerly opens the door to his home, finding Yorik and Erick giving each other death glares. Hmmm, nope, not his problem, he turns to look for his friends and finds Tantra and Kisrin meditating. He sits between them, making a perfect triangle and waits.

    Kisrin is taking deep breaths while Tantra lets out the breath almost as soon as she finishes drawing it, must be doing that new technique then. Other than gathering Qi quicker he really doesn¡¯t get the point of it, but Tantra will do as Tantra does. Her control technique is useless too and yet apparently it¡¯s the key to a quick foundation, so who knows, maybe she¡¯ll be a collector of generally useless techniques and turn them to gold.

    As he waits Yorick and Erick continue their staring match, ah children.

    He doesn¡¯t know what started this but it was surely idiotic.

    As it should be.

    Eventually Kisrin opens his eyes and gives Tantra a capital L look before he realizes that Yorin is right there. He blushes hard when he turns his head, and Yorin has to hold himself back from laughing, so that he doesn¡¯t interrupt Tantra¡¯s gathering.

    Kisrin just scowls at him.

    Yorin smiles.

    He sighs.

    ¡°Yorin,¡± Tantra says suddenly, breaking off from her meditation, ¡°It seems as though you¡¯ve finally learned manners.¡±

    Yorin just shrugs at her, ¡°where¡¯s Etra and Rakan?¡±

    ¡°Etra¡¯s at home,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°and Rakan is doing whatever Rakan does, why?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Yorin says, ¡°I may or may not have gotten us all something to commemorate (I think that¡¯s the word) our first beast tide¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Tantra says as she raises a brow, ¡°and what might this be¡±

    He riffles through his bag and pulls out three white bead bracelets.

    ¡°They¡¯re made of the bones of a real strong beast!¡± He exclaims, ¡°it¡¯s real tough, Toris had to use a claw from the same beast to even carve out the beads.¡±

    Kisrin and Tantra each grab a bracelet and examine it.

    Tantra puts it on, leaving it to tighten around her right wrist as she holds out her hand to inspect the jewellery.

    ¡°Well,¡± she says, ¡°you certainly won¡¯t be competing with the jewellers, but it has its own charm.¡±

    Yorin almost deflates at that, but then he remembers that Tantra¡¯s probably seen some of the best accessories coins can buy, so maybe it was a compliment in a way?

    ¡°Tantra,¡± Kisrin says with a raised brow, ¡°one of these is more than most villagers can afford, let alone three.¡±

    Tantra goes red with embarrassment, ¡°apologies Yorin, I meant nothing by it.¡±

    Yorin waves her off, ¡°It¡¯s fine! It¡¯s more for the memories than looks anyway.¡±

    ¡°Do I get one?¡± says a voice over his shoulder.

    He turns to see Erick with sparkling eyes.

    Yorin smiles wide, ¡°of course!¡±

    -

    Saying their goodbyes was a difficult thing for Yorin, she could tell he wanted to stay, and she could sympathise with the feeling, but in the end he chose to keep going on the journey. Kisrin¡¯s village is far to the south, meaning they¡¯ll have to pass through multiple cities and kingdoms. Luckily the months after the beastide was enough time for Tantra to regain mobility in her arm. It¡¯s¡­very ugly, leaving a lot of it as just purple scar tissue.

    She doesn¡¯t like to look at it.

    She wonders how many more scars she¡¯ll get before they make it to Ralth? She¡¯s already got a new one on her belly and out her back from where that bastard ran her through. Still has the Jian too, nestled safely in Rakan¡¯s artifact, she¡¯s pretty sure it¡¯s the necklace, but he has an assortment of other jewellery on his person that could be carved with arrays.

    Apparently it''s to make it harder for thieves to distinguish which one is the real artifact, which brought up the question of who would be stupid enough to rob a cultivator?

    Apparently a lot of people, if they¡¯re desperate enough.

    Which is another curiosity.

    ¡°Yorin?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Where were the beggars in Terkat?¡±

    He shrugs, ¡°we don¡¯t have any.¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°how?¡±

    ¡°By housing them or kicking them out,¡± Etra says. ¡°If they¡¯re a kid they go to live with Clairmont, if they aren¡¯t they¡¯re shown the door.¡±

    ¡°That sounds¡­cruel.¡±

    Etra nods, ¡°It is, but the other villages take them.¡±

 Ch.52:Bison Are The Shit

    Her fingers are splayed out in front of her, rays of moonlight shining through the gaps and unto her face. One by one she curls each finger, until her hand¡¯s made a fist, then she squeezes. There¡¯s pain there, and not an insignificant amount either, but she can move her arm well enough to fight if needed. She traces a line across the mass of scar tissue that the appendage has become. There are five ridges where muscle is repairing slowly, courtesy of being in purification, but otherwise it¡¯s just a dark purple where flesh was torn from her bones.

    She doesn¡¯t like looking at it.

    She takes her left arm and traces a line across her neck, feeling the old while looking at the new.

    She¡¯s quite ugly now, isn¡¯t she? No amount of etiquette class can overcome the marks on her body now, unless she decides to dress like a nun, but all things being equal she¡¯ll probably end up with a scar on her face as well. It¡­hurts, she stares at her reflection on the occasions they get to bathe in a river, and all she sees is something revolting. Her previous charm lost to the furrows of purple and marks of red/white.

    But I¡¯m still alive, a part of her thinks, better to be an abomination than to be dead.

    It¡¯s a bittersweet thought.

    She doesn¡¯t care much for it.

    She takes a deep breath and forces Qi into her core.

    It¡¯s slower when she does it without meditating, but it¡¯s still faster than the normal method. She just has to be careful when toeing the line, but right now she isn¡¯t anywhere near it so it¡¯s fine.

    Apparently if she crosses it her soul will shatter.

    A scary thought, so she just won¡¯t cross.

    Her willpower¡¯s gotten stronger, not by much, but it has. Gathering in this way is less of a burden on the mind and soul the more days pass. She can see why Rakan considers this useless, the rate at which she¡¯s growing is only marginally faster than gathering Qi the normal way. But the important part is the Qi itself, her connection is thin and brittle, meaning that she barely gets any of the Qi her soul produces. A day''s worth might be enough to boost an appendage once, and considering her meridians, she can¡¯t exactly be wasting it. She¡¯s cleansed twenty three by this point, practically nothing, but more than when she started.

    She scans the surroundings as Rakan does his burpees and the others sleep.

    They¡¯ve been on the road for¡­seven months now?

    Not a single time have they been attacked at night, though they should be prepared to break that streak soon, considering all the mongrels and beasts spread out through the lands now. She¡¯s not looking forward to having her sleep interrupted by some Qi infused jerboa looking to die.

    Rakan stops his burpees and walks up to her side, ¡°your turns over kid¡±

    ¡°How are you so good with time?¡±

    He shrugs, ¡°just learn to follow the moon, it¡¯s not that hard¡±

    ¡°What about when the clouds get in the way?¡±

    ¡°Feeling.¡±

    -

    ¡°How does compression even work?¡± Etra asks, ¡°you¡¯ve been doing it for the past few months but I don¡¯t see you improving any faster.¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°you know when I vomit blood doing the weaving exercises?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the same principle but in reverse, essentially I¡¯m substituting my will with my soul, which forces it to contract. Did I get that right?¡±

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Rakan gives a so-so gesture, ¡°mostly, it''s more your soul is being compressed by the pressure of manipulating reality than it contracting though.¡±

    ¡°Does it make it denser?¡± Kisrin asks

    ¡°The sect master didn¡¯t mention anything about that so I¡¯d imagine not.¡±

    ¡°What if he just skipped that detail?¡±

    ¡°He wouldn¡¯t do that, grumpy as that crotchety bastard is, he always gets into the details.¡±

    ¡°Weird,¡± Yorin says, ¡°where does the soul stuff go if it doesn¡¯t get denser?¡±

    ¡°Not how it works, the soul isn¡¯t a physical object that follows physical rules¡±

    Etra tilts her head to one side, then to the other, as though in intense thought. She brings a hand up to her chin and ¡®hmmm¡¯s¡¯ then snaps her fingers as though she solved some great mystery.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got it!¡± She declares.

    ¡°Got what?¡± Tantra asks.

    ¡°If our body is the physical part, and the soul is the spiritual part, then the core and meridians are a mix of both!¡±

    ¡°Okay?¡±

    Etra sighs, ¡°truly you are a fool, do you not know what this means Tantan?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll call you whatever I damn well please.¡±

    ¡°Can we get back to the topic?¡± Kirsin says, ¡°I want to know what it is you¡¯ve figured out.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Etra raises her nose high, ¡°If the core is both physical and spiritual then it either works like both or it works like neither.¡±

    Everyone just stares at her, waiting for some kind of follow up to that statement, but Etra stands proud and doesn¡¯t say anything else.

    ¡°Okay?¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°Dumbass! Do you not see that I have just made possibly the greatest theory in all of cultivation?¡±

    ¡°It takes bits of both,¡± Rakan says blandly.

    Etra stares at him.

    ¡°What, you think you¡¯re the only one with a brain?¡±

    -

    Bison are one of the few naturally born spirit beasts.

    Draped with a fur coat of deep black, possessing eyes that glow with a vibrancy that fluctuates between yellow and red, mostly settling for orange. Their hooves are a gleaming white alongside massive horns that curve up their heads.

    There¡¯s a whole herd of them grazing by the path, one that Rakan and Tantra walk without a care in the world.

    ¡°C¡¯mon kiddos, it¡¯s just a bunch of overgrown cows, what¡¯re you so afraid of?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s thousands of spirit beasts.¡± Etra hisses

    He waves her off, ¡°they won¡¯t do anything, watch!¡±

    Rakan walks up to one of the bison and puts his hand on its head.

    He starts rubbing.

    The bison leans into his hand.

    ¡°See! You guys need to trust me more.¡±

    The bison snorts.

    ¡°Me too buddy, me too.¡±

    -

    Walking is a very healthy form of exercise.

    Step by step the journey of miles, each one a memory. Resai much prefers it over riding caravans, and she suspects the peasants do as well. Cultivators in general are intimidating things of little compassion and less remorse, she of course, is not exempt from this. She just has some self awareness to accompany the casual cruelty.

    It¡¯s fun really, to see how her lessers might squirm, she doesn¡¯t tend to kill them, that would be no fun. But she does give the interesting ones a mark for later, so that fate might bring them together again and she witnesses how they¡¯ve progressed.

    Like right now.

    ¡°Disappointing,¡± Resai says to the man missing both arms, ¡°this is what you¡¯ve made of yourself, some kind of protector?¡±

    The man can barely keep from falling, precipitous blood loss and a myriad of wounds pulling his conscience away slowly. But still he stands.

    ¡°They are my family,¡± he says simply, ¡°I would never abandon them.¡±

    Resai snorts, ¡°cultivators have no family, such frivolities are tossed aside once we walk that path. I was honestly expecting more from you, your soul was shaped so¡­uniquely. Yet here you stand a disappointment. Shame, truly a shame.¡±

    ¡°I care little for your expectations, monster. I did what was right by my heart and that is all that will matter in the end.¡±

    She quirks her head, ¡°even when I kill you?¡±

    ¡°Even when you kill me,¡±

    She gives a wide smile full of teeth and devoid of kindness, ¡°at least you¡¯ve got a cultivators spirit! If not the mind of one.¡±

 Ch.53:Plucky Little Gerald

    There aren''t many avenues of attack for the Kanab¨­, there¡¯s the vertical, horizontal, and finally the diagonal. There¡¯s also the push to create distance, but generally if you let someone that close you¡¯ve already failed the basics of heavy weapon combat.

    In the mortal world the Kanab¨­ is a brute force weapon, used to break open enemy lines so that the footsoldiers can slaughter the mass of bodies in front of them. It¡¯s purpose doesn¡¯t change much once in the hands of a cultivator, only this time it is used to overwhelm individuals and beasts rather than a mere defensive line. It is a weapon of brutal strikes and little else, technique is important, as it always is, but not like with a sword.

    There is no flourish,

    There are no fancy counters

    There only exists a thing to be pulped and the means by which to pulp it.

    Right now Tantra is swinging her five foot rod of studded steel directly at Rakan¡¯s shoulder, holding little back. The only rules to the spars is no boosting, considering butting their cultivation against each other would defeat the purpose of training with the weapon. She¡¯s always surprised by how little Rakan moves, dodging all her strikes within a hair''s breadth. He does the same for this strike, as he always does, and he responds with an overhead.

    As the club comes down she traces its path, it¡¯s gotten¡­slightly easier the past few months and she doesn¡¯t really know why. Still, just because he¡¯s not boosting doesn¡¯t mean his speed is anywhere near mortal. She dodges with an overly dramatic sidestep.

    Which is a mistake because he stops his descent and swipes at her sideways, hitting her right in the ribs and sending her stumbling.

    He doesn¡¯t take advantage.

    ¡°Only dodge if your opponent can¡¯t correct course,¡± he instructs, ¡°otherwise your just giving an opening.¡±

    Tantra grunts and nods, bringing her club up.

    He nods back and barrels a diagonal strike to her person, barely visible, but she¡¯s been training with Rakan for almost a year, so she¡¯s started to get used to dealing with quick strikes. So long as she can see them coming of course.

    She brings her club up and braces, letting the force of the blow travel through her body and into the ground before pushing his weapon away, stepping forward, and doing a quick strike with her left arm on the body of her club.

    It actually hits him, and she prepares in dismay for what¡¯s coming.

    A fist knocks her head back and she sees stars, in the next moment she is hit in the face with his club, sending her collapsing to the ground.

    ¡°Sometimes taking a hit provides opportunities,¡± he intones.

    Etra snorts, ¡°we get it oh wise one.¡±

    He scowls, ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking to you.¡±

    ¡°Well you definitely weren¡¯t talking to her, she¡¯s fully unconscious.¡±

    Rakan blinks, then looks down at Tantra, nudging her with his club.

    ¡°Huh,¡± he says, ¡°gonna have to work on that.¡±

    -

    Qi isn¡¯t something a person can innately touch, it¡¯s not an instinct.

    You have to learn, and there is a proper time for a child to touch their Qi. Like how you can¡¯t force a babe to walk, else you risk permanent complications. So you have to wait, not long, sometime between seven and nine is usually when Qi sense naturally forms, letting the child access the wonders of the ethereal.

    Erick is six, and he isn¡¯t some special case, so Rakan can¡¯t teach him much beyond martial forms, no matter how much he begs. He does a lot of begging, used to make him feel bad, now it¡¯s just annoying. He¡¯s gotten in the habit of making his training regime slightly harder if he pushes his luck.

    Just slightly.

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    ¡°Teacher, he¡¯s been punching air for half an hour, isn¡¯t that more than enough?¡± His student asks him

    ¡°You think so? Hey Erick! Is this too much for your weak ass?¡±

    ¡°No master!¡±

    ¡°See, he¡¯s fine.¡±

    Tantra doesn¡¯t look convinced, if her unimpressed look is anything to go by. Honestly, girl¡¯s too soft, especially for kids. When he heard she went bounty hunting with a shattered arm to protect their local daemon child, he couldn¡¯t help but laugh his ass off. Then again, the drive to do dangerous shit for stupid reasons is the hallmark of any cultivator, almost a requirement even, and part of the reason he offered his mentorship.

    Most of the reason was because of what the masters seemed to see in her though.

    At first he was a little confused, sure she¡¯s not bad but she¡¯s not exceptional either, combine that with her distant soul and you get a recipe for a mediocre cultivator at best. But cultivation isn¡¯t about what¡¯s logical or reasonable, it¡¯s about spirit, and no matter how much she may protest, the girls got a lot of fucking spirit. He saw a bit of it when she¡¯d always get back up during training (if she was conscious), but he became its witness when they fought that bear.

    Most of her cultivation would have just kitted the thing, not risking injury, but no, she went for blows that would make a difference, taking heavy injuries along the way. He doesn¡¯t know if he could¡¯ve won that fight without her, probably, but he¡¯d rather not find out.

    -

    Etra doesn¡¯t know what she¡¯s looking at.

    All that she knows is that it¡¯s fucking weird.

    A pulsating ball of flesh rolls around using pinprick appendages, it has ears, a mouth, and assortment of other features a head might have but it¡¯s all structured like a spirit beast trying to recreate human features. It rolls up next to her and stares at her with an eye of yellow.

    ¡°Hello cutie~¡± it says from a mouth that''s on the other side of its head.

    She just stares at the thing, then punts it across the field.

    ¡°Rude,¡± Rakan says as he performs his burpees.

    ¡°Ex-fucking-cuse me, how did you expect me to react to that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just a mimic.¡±

    ¡°What in all the gods'' fragile grace is a mimic?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s kinda in the name kid¡±

    In the time Etra¡¯s been having this discussion, the mimics rolled back with it¡¯s misshapen appendages and taps on her leg.

    ¡°That was mean~¡±

    Etra yelps and jumps back from the thing, in a fully dignified manner of course, she takes a centering breath before pulling her leg back again.

    ¡°Wait~¡± it says

    Etra slowly brings her leg back to the floor and the mimic sighs in relief.

    ¡°Thanks cutie~¡±

    ¡°Okay first, don¡¯t call me that, second, how are you even talking? Where are your lungs?¡±

    The thing does the equivalent of a shrug with its many limbs, ¡°ask Gorman¡¯thkar, he¡¯s the one who made me~¡±

    ¡°Yeah sure, let me just get an audience with one of the big fuck off dieties, I¡¯ll get right on that.¡±

    ¡°No need to be rude cutie~¡±

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯m already getting sick of this conversation, what do you want flesh ball?¡±

    ¡°My name is Gerald~¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a stupid name¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a stupid person~¡±

    Etra punts the mimic again.

    -

    Tantra takes a deep breath, digs her feet into the dirt, and lifts the carriage.

    Four threads, each in their respective appendages, crossing at her back. She can feel the bile rising as she boosts every muscle and bone all at once. It¡¯s inefficient, sure, but she¡¯s managing, which says a lot for how far her soul has travelled to match her will to this degree.

    Erick and a little girl cheer her on as she lifts.

    ¡°There, right there!¡± The voice of an older gentleman says.

    Tantra holds up the wooden box on wheels as Rakan adjusts the missing wheel and hammers in the spokes. Consistently boosting through four threads is proving to be a significant challenge for her control, not her will though, that¡¯s soared since her compression exercises. Well, not really, but progress is progress at the end of the day, and she¡¯s further along than if she did everything normally.

    ¡°Alright cultivator, you can set it down now.¡±

    She bends her legs and lets the carriage descend slowly to the ground.

    ¡°My, my, you¡¯ve done me quite the favour!¡± He gives Tantra¡¯s back a few slaps, ¡°never thought I¡¯d see the day a cultivator would be inclined to help.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t,¡± Rakan grumbles

    ¡°Ignore him, it¡¯s an honour to help a fellow traveller on the road.¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°The honour''s all mine cultivator! Come, I have plenty of berry wine for us to get drunk and merry.¡±

    ¡°A thousand gratitudes, but I don¡¯t drink wine,¡± Tantra replies.

    ¡°Well I do!¡± Etra chirps, ¡°c¡¯mon old man, lets see what you got!¡±

 Ch.54:Moose Are Cooler than Bison

    There¡¯s little to do on the road but walk and talk.

    Occasionally they¡¯ll meet travelers, but they tend to bow and avoid them, a few are bold though, and those usually make for good conversation. If only to hear their own personal microcosm of the world. Tantra has discovered that peasants make for the best storytellers, everything they describe is raw and real, not like the fancy tales nobles curate to seem refined. She assumes there are exaggerations, likely even outright lies, but it doesn¡¯t stop the tales from being enjoyable. Whether it''s about crop rotations, general gossip, or the rare tale of a passing cultivator.

    Like her, now that she thinks about it.

    Maybe she¡¯ll be in a few stories now, ¡®the cultivator with the mangled arm¡¯, hmm, she doesn¡¯t like that much. A lot of first impressions were made while her arm was healing and/or infected. Not very graceful of her but what could she have done? Hide away until it healed? Still doesn¡¯t stop her self conscious side from pestering her like a petulant child.

    Speaking of petulant children.

    ¡°I wanna drink too!¡± Erick pouts, ¡°It¡¯s not fair.¡±

    The girl beside him giggles as Rorick barks out a laugh.

    ¡°No can do laddie, this is the good shit for the grown shitters.¡±

    ¡°Etra isn¡¯t grown,¡± Tantra points out.

    ¡°I¡¯m grown enough you prissy bitch.¡±

    ¡°Etra, I am in possession of a club the size of your body, please don¡¯t tempt me to use it.¡±

    Etra snorts, ¡°do it pussy, you won¡¯t.¡±

    Kisrin smacks her on the back of the head.

    ¡°Hey! What was that for!¡±

    ¡°Drunkenness is no excuse for¡­for¡­hmmm, unkindness?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking of rudeness,¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°Yes! Marvelous, you are a shining light amidst a sea of idiocy Tantra.¡±

    Yorin hiccups, ¡°you two should just get together already.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly,¡± Tantra says, ¡°Kisrin is simply-Erick!¡±

    The boy looks at her like a startled deer, carrying a bottle of wine under one arm.

    ¡°You put that down young man, or what I''ll do to you will make Rakan¡¯s training seem tame.¡±

    Erick grumbles and puts the bottle back as Rakan giggles.

    Yes, Rakan is giggling, alcohol makes people weird.

    Rorick chuckles as he takes a sip of his wine, ¡°you lot are a funny bunch for cultivators, most I¡¯ve talked to are more about honour and face.¡±

    ¡°Met a few, have you?¡± Rakan says, ¡°and you¡¯re still alive? Good for you.¡±

    Rorick waves him off, ¡°oh they¡¯re not so bad, so long as you don¡¯t do anything to offend. Hell¡¯s, Ephelia¡¯s mother is a cultivator, oh how I miss that woman, but the journey seems to call to your folk like the bleat of a deer calls to wolves.¡±

    Rakan raises his bottle, ¡°as is only proper!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s stupid,¡± Yorin grumbles, ¡°why not settle down? There¡¯s no rule forcing us to move around.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you¡¯ll get it someday kid,¡± Rakan says, ¡°the journey has a way of¡­finding situations of growth lets say, also stay in one place and you make yourself a pretty easy target.¡±

    ¡°Target for who?¡±

    ¡°Nobles mostly,¡± Tantra chimes in.

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    ¡°What¡¯s a no-ble?¡± Ephelia asks.

    ¡°Stuck up cunts,¡± Etra replies.

    The girl tilts her head, ¡°what¡¯s a cunt?¡±

    -

    ¡°Uuuugh, why doesn¡¯t cultivation deal with the damned hangovers?¡± Etra groans as she clutches at her head, ¡°It deals with everything else.¡±

    ¡°Firstly,¡± Rakan starts, ¡°you¡¯re not that far along, secondly, the amount you drank would challenge even my liver.¡±

    Etra scrunches her brow, ¡°Is that where hangovers come from?¡±

    ¡°Nope!¡± Yorin says, ¡°the liver¡¯s just the thing that gets rid of the wine¡­right?¡±

    Tantra nods proudly.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t talk so loudly, how does that not hurt?¡±

    Yorin shrugs, ¡°I don¡¯t get hangovers.¡±

    ¡°Lucky bastard.¡±

    Tantra chuckles as they walk along the path, unfortunately Rorick was headed in the opposite direction, so they had to part ways. Still, it was nice to talk to someone who isn¡¯t constantly afraid of her, even if that fear is well warranted. Cultivators don¡¯t exactly have a stellar reputation, and a lot of the stories aren¡¯t even exaggerations.

    Immortals have burned down villages for the pettiest of reasons, and similarly cultivators have killed with the most ridiculous reasoning. She finds it kind of funny, in a dark way, they want to kill but are too cowardly to face things that could fight back and present a challenge, so instead they target the helpless.

    She doesn¡¯t know how such people have the gall to talk about honour after slaughtering helpless peasants. Not that she¡¯ll point out the hypocrisy, she isn¡¯t looking to die.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s that?¡± Yorin says as he points to the side.

    All eyes turn to see what looks like a moose with a light blue coat walking towards them. It has more than a few scars where fur doesn¡¯t cover it¡¯s hide, but all of them seem to accentuate its features rather than detract from them. Its stride is slow, but it¡¯s also long, which evens out the pace. Other than the coat and the glowing eyes there isn¡¯t really anything of note about the moose, Tantra just shoulders her club in preparation but Rakan puts a hand on her shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡± he says simply.

    Tantra, confused, turns to look at him and sees something new on Rakan¡¯s face.

    Is that fear?

    The moose stops in front of them, snorts out a greeting, and bows its head. Rakan reciprocates.

    ¡°Greetings, honoured beast.¡± Rakan says.

    The moose lets out a low rumble in response. It brings its head forward and considers them, eyes twinkling a bright yellow.

    ¡°Rakan, what¡¯s going on?¡± Etra asks nervously.

    Rakan doesn¡¯t respond, keeping his head bowed low as the moose goes to sniff him. It huffs and moves on to Tantra, who tenses up, but all it does is take another short inhale through the nose, and another huff in¡­disappointment?

    Is some random beast disappointed in her?

    She doesn¡¯t know how that¡¯s going to go over with her pride, but she chooses to ignore that for now as it does the same with all her friends, eventually stopping at Erick. It takes a deep breath, and its eyes widen with delight, even letting out a happy rumble.

    Erick, shaking like a leaf, gets his cheek licked, and there is a slight glow before the moose raises its head and walks off.

    Tantra just turns her head to Rakan, extremely confused.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    Rakan sighs, ¡°we, really, need to unlock your Qi senses girl. That was a divine beast.¡±

    All four pairs of eyes turn to stare at him.

    -

    Tantra doesn¡¯t know how to feel about meeting a divine beast, especially so randomly on the road. She expected them to live deep in the radius of a foci, not jaunting around in the countryside. The fact that a person can meet what is essentially the beast equivalent of an immortal entirely by chance seems a little ridiculous. Though apparently it does happen, from how Rakan seems to be taking all this in stride as he reported their encounter to the captain of the guard in Forikikam.

    Which is a quant city to say the least, about the same size as Barakan, except there is one notable quality. Well, two, but only one that matters. The city¡¯s in possession of a free market!

    ¡°Fifteen gold girl, I can¡¯t go any higher with pelts this damaged,¡±

    ¡°Hmmm, maybe I should ask someone else then? Surely proper hide from proper beasts would fetch more than that, considering its market value.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what market value is, kid, I¡¯m just a tanner, and I¡¯m telling you I can¡¯t take these at twenty.¡±

    ¡°Eighteen then.¡± Tantra nods, ¡°since I am feeling generous today.¡±

    The tanner sighs, ¡°eighteen it is.¡±.

    He hands over the coin that Tantra happily pockets into her new coin purse. It¡¯s actually from this very tanner, and it¡¯s quite well made, even enchanted with preservation scripts somehow. The tanner must either have really good connections, or is extremely talented.

    Array script work can be done by absolutely anyone who knows the basic words, but to get it to do anything like the auto-repair function of her robes you need decades of study to understand and perfect the letters and curves.

    Then there¡¯s Formations.

    She shivers.

    Only cultivators have enough time to learn how to handle that.

 Ch.55:It Can See Everything

    If there¡¯s one thing about Rikidan that Ghomak loves, it¡¯d have to be their ale.

    The people of this empire just get it, leaving a nice burn down to travel down your throat and a satisfying buzz to permeate your brain. You¡¯d think the Barbarian Lands would have some taste in alcohol, but no, all they¡¯ve got is pathetic ass rice wine, with all their good shit being imported through one of the few merchant companies that have found a foothold in the land of debauchery and dark dealings. The Barbarian lands might not have many people but all of them have complete foundations, strength being the only respectable quality in that place. That and the blood spilled on your axe.

    Ghomak takes a final swig of his barrel and lets out a satisfying belch as the bar patrons cheer him on. It takes a while to get drunk once you¡¯ve dug your roots deep enough, and Ghomak¡¯s got roots that reach to granite, meaning he can drink a lot. Still, his determination to get absolutely plastered always wins in the end.

    He picks up another barrel and starts chugging.

    He¡¯s going to pay of course, he¡¯s not one of those cultivators. He hesitates to even call them by that title, as far removed as they are from a respectable disposition. Truly, using your power to act like a common highway bandit is pathetic, and he has, on occasion, slaughtered a few fools who think that they can assert dominance because of their puny steps on the path. Chopped up quite a few too, but that¡¯s neither here nor there, he¡¯s drinking! He just needs to focus on the ale, not the stupidity of cultivators.

    He finishes another barrel but this time there are no cheers, he sets down the empty barrel and looks to find quite the dapper gentlemen standing in front of him, dressed in a formal toga with a sling wrapped around his shoulder and across his waist. He has a lot of rings, all of them jade, and there¡¯s a collar of encrusted gems around his neck.

    He¡¯s looking right at Ghomak.

    ¡°Ghomak Yortide,¡± he says, ¡°your reputation precedes you, truly you have demolished the beverages of this poor establishment.¡±

    ¡°What do you want Sol?¡±

    ¡°Oh? You recognize who I am?¡±

    ¡°Only your kind dress like that, no clue which one you are, and I don¡¯t care to know either. I¡¯m here to get shitfaced and fuck like a rabbit, not deal with merchants.¡±

    The man chuckles, ¡°well, I could certainly find the finest accommodations for both, if you listen to what I have to say.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t do jobs for your kind,¡± Ghomak says simply, ¡°there¡¯s always some kind of stupid twist to it all.¡±

    ¡°Oh this is nothing like that, I simply want you to find an imposter.¡±

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°Well, bring them here, or kill them, it¡¯s your choice really.¡±

    Ghomak grunts as he takes a gigantic gulp from another barrel, ¡°no.¡±

    ¡°Come now, the Jade Sol can pay you handsomely for your services, it¡¯s a simple job for one of your strengths.¡±

    ¡°Get someone else to do it, merchant, this reeks of politics, and I have no intention of involving myself in that cesspit, ever.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The merchant frowns, ¡°very well,¡± he says, ¡°but if you change your mind, do come visit the estate and ask for Tikor Sol. It¡¯d be a delight to work with you.¡±

    Ghomak just ignores him and gets back to his ale.

    -

    Invention is a bitch.

    Taking a shitload of theoreticals and putting it into functional application is, in essence, immensely frustrating. Takes a lot of trial and error, lots of experimentation, and lots of gold. Still, it¡¯s what her sultan wants, so she¡¯ll deliver with both grace and panache. The new models are sitting right in front of her, assembled to perfection, the smith having taken her designs and giving them a life of their own. The first is something like a fire lance, the inspiration for this new branch of research, except it is much bigger, rivaling the size of a carriage, it uses gigantic balls of iron and a precipitous amount of black powder, all attached to a slow match.

    It¡¯s meant for sieges, serving the same purpose a catapult might. Except much more powerful, at least that¡¯s the theory, in practice she still has to make sure it works. But that¡¯s okay, this is the simplest of the three contraptions she¡¯s devised.

    She¡¯s thinking of calling it the dragon¡¯s maw.

    The second is an a ball, slightly bigger than one''s palm, at its top there is a a whole where a fuse is to be lit, making the thing explode and expel shrapnel into the soon to be corpses of their enemies. This was inspired by the fire bombs, hoping to make something with more¡­explosive potential.

    This one she wants to call the dragon¡¯s shit.

    Then, there is the most complicated one. It is a kind of fire lance, except much slimmer, and it doesn¡¯t use a fuse. Instead there is something called a trigger, when pulled it¡¯ll cause a small hammer made of steel to crash into the flint inside the back of the lance, propelling a smaller pellet of steel.

    She smiles.

    Now to test her little inventions.

    -

    There is so much information to rip out of the thing.

    All being packed into what might be considered a brain of a thing with eyes and nothing else. It does not know what it was, all it knows is what it is. An observer, it can SEE everything, no corner of the world is safe from its gaze, no story left untold. It sees through the walls of its cage and watches all the world in all its splendor, just watching. There are so many different forms of life, and that¡¯s before the life/change courses through their bodies, then they turn from uniform design to something unique, something distinct.

    Few are the creatures that aren¡¯t changed by the life/change, and that¡¯s only because they have a filter. It can still be overcome and create something new. First are the descendants of the ungulate, if you ignore the Godthings, they are the strongest species to walk the land. Things of steel hooves and horns. Their pelts are a pristine white with a line of black running along its belly that travels up its neck and reaches its eyes.

    Oh it¡¯s, eye¡¯s, those beautiful rainbows, how it wishes it had eyes of such majesty.

    Then there are the things with two legs.

    The things can communicate in something other than huffs and snorts, and their language fascinates it, if only it had a mouth to speak, that it could replicate such sounds and have conversation.

    Instead it is here, in this cage.

    It does not know why it is here, nor why it was put here.

    Once it lived on the mountain, before the wolf of silver made its residence there. It would watch from its vantage point, it would watch all the world. Then, one day, it was here. The memory between the mountain and here aren¡¯t present, either ripped away or transported in an eyeblink.

    IT CAN SEE EVERYTHING

    It is a law of the world now, has been for a long, long time, and yet it does not see its captors, does not know who they are. All it knows is that it is vented Qi into its cell for sustenance and some sort of script of a language it¡¯s never seen to take all the delicious information contained in the thing it calls its mind.

    It is a painful process, too painful for it to really put into thought.

    Like its soul is being torn from its body.

    Like a hot poker searing into an infected wound.

    Like-

    And then it forgets, the pain is there, as an echo, but it forgets what caused it.

    Wasn¡¯t it on the mountain?

 Ch.56:Just A Hint Of Mint

    Forikikam is certainly¡­well¡­a city?

    She went through a lot when being transported to the sect by two disgruntled inner disciples, but that was only for the night, not enough time to truly explore. Barakan she spent little over a month in, waiting as she was for initiation. Other than that her only real experience with the civilized world was through Ralth, she wasn¡¯t old enough to join the caravans, unlike her siblings. She has a feeling her father wouldn''t have let her join one even if she was.

    Hmmm¡­

    She hasn¡¯t thought about her father in a while.

    Used to be a daily occurrence, but with all that¡¯s happened¡­well she has other things to occupy her mind then resentment. Does she still feel resentful?

    A cursory examination says that yes, yes she is.

    Why?

    Well, she thinks, he did take my agency.

    Fair enough, but will she feel this way forever? She doesn¡¯t know, she doesn¡¯t want to. She wants the memory of her father to be untainted by resentment. She glowers a bit, he couldn¡¯t have waited just a few more years before returning to the cycle? She could¡¯ve shown up all prim and proper and made memories past the arguments.

    They got into a lot of those, back when she first heard he had sold her off without even telling her. She only found out because one of the disciples coming to pick her up came early. It was only a few days, but each was filled with yells and curses. She expanded her vocabulary quite dramatically as a consequence.

    During all this thinking, she¡¯s just been staring at a fountain, watching as the water trails down, only to end up at the top all over again to repeat the cycle. Is there a metaphor somewhere in there? Maybe she doesn¡¯t know, but she¡¯s feeling philosophical today. Perhaps it could represent life? Making our journey down to the bottom of the fountain, until eventually we stop, and are pushed back out its spout. To travel a new journey with a new life, the past washed clean and forgotten.

    Hmmmm, no, feels like she¡¯s reaching a bit too far for that one.

    She just keeps staring at the fountain, contemplating it and its waters when a hand places itself on her shoulder. It is a large hand, and it feels like vines and roots, tangled together into a knot. She turns to see a man of green, appearance matching the texture of his hand, He¡¯s wearing a beating robe of brown.

    ¡°What are you thinking about, young one?¡± A rope tied together through bramble asks.

    Tantra thinks of bowing but¡­no, that''s not what he asked for.

    ¡°I was thinking about the fountain,¡± she says, ¡°trying to give it a greater meaning than simply being a fountain.¡±

    There¡¯s a rumble of rustling trees as he pats her on the back.

    ¡°A contemplative day is it?¡±

    She nods.

    ¡°Good, young ones like yourselves need a moment every now and then to make meaning of the mundane, good for the mind.¡±

    Tantra just nods again.

    ¡°I don¡¯t recognize your robes, or token, where are you from cultivator?¡±

    ¡°The serpent¡¯s fang, honourable elder.¡±

    He barks a laugh and it sounds like the whipping of ropes, ¡°I am no elder, just a wandering nomad, taking the journey one step at a time.¡±

    ¡°One step at a time,¡± Tantra echoes, ¡°what brought you here?¡±

    The man just shrugs, ¡°I tour around Rikidan occasionally, and this is a city in its grasp. Do I need a reason beyond that?¡±

    ¡°No, just most have set destinations for their journeys.¡±

    He snorts, ¡°and they¡¯ve missed plenty of the world''s wonders by being so narrow. I WALK WHERE MY FEET TAKE ME, and I¡¯m more than satisfied with that style of living.¡±

    The air twists and his voice reverberates through the square. The peasants were already fairly far, considering the upper realm cultivator in their midst, but they¡¯ve backed away further from the strangeness that came with the man''s words. City folk, she¡¯s found, tend to be less cautious of cultivators than villagers. Though there¡¯s still a healthy dose of fear that guides them to politeness.

    Tantra blinks.

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    ¡°How did you do that?¡±

    The man of tightly woven vines chuckles a tune of birds chirping, ¡°why ruin the surprise? If I¡¯ve been guided to you then you¡¯ll figure out something so simple pretty soon. I¡¯m almost impressed, you have such a distant soul and yet fate has deemed you important.¡±

    ¡°Fate?¡±

    ¡°Yep, me and fate have a bit of a thing going on, but don¡¯t you worry about that, it isn¡¯t anything bad. Technically.¡±

    Tantra has to hold back an incredulous look at the man, what does he mean technically?

    ¡°Anyway, you said you were from the Serpent¡¯s Fang, where, mayhaps, may that be?¡±

    -

    Tantra takes a deep whiff of a Qi stone.

    Smells like jack shit.

    She sighs, ¡°this is taking forever.¡±

    ¡°Then keep trying,¡± Rakan says, ¡°every attempt gets you closer, whether you realize it or not.¡±

    Tantra grumbles but does as he says, going back to taking whiffs of the stone like a curious canine. They¡¯ve tried all of her senses at this point, and are starting to rotate between them. Tantra suggested boosting as a solution but Rakan shot that down rather violently, stating that she wasn¡¯t ready for enhancing her senses so dramatically.

    She thinks he¡¯s just bullshiting to make this process harder.

    Still, she does as he says, he¡¯s her mentor now, so if the advice is reasonable she¡¯ll take it, whether or not she thinks it''s dumb.

    Afterall, she could be wrong.

    She focuses on her stone, taking in the scent of nature and nothing else. She doesn¡¯t really get how this is how you unlock the senses, wouldn¡¯t she have already gotten hers if all she needed was to stare, smell, or taste Qi? She spent plenty of time in the DarkWoods afterall.

    Is it weird that she kind of misses the DarkWoods? It was her first foci, so she didn¡¯t really appreciate the fauna contained within. Most foci are small, and don¡¯t tend to exude enough Qi to cause any serious mutations. Hell, there¡¯s a lot of random ones dotted along the world that produce so little they aren¡¯t even considered foci.

    She wonders what exactly makes them different?

    No one really knows how foci work, there are theories but no evidence. The minor ones don¡¯t give enough data to make any definitive conclusions, and to get to the centre of a major one you¡¯d need an expedition of immortals, and they don¡¯t tend to travel together.

    She takes another inhale of the Qi stone.

    Still nothing.

    She has to be missing something, but if she is Rakan hasn¡¯t deigned to tell her. It¡¯s not like she can¡¯t sense Qi, she needs to be able to manipulate her own and gather Qi from the world. She¡¯s tried that avenue though, tried using her sixth sense at the same time as her other five, but it just doesn¡¯t want to connect.

    Maybe it¡¯s some kind of technique that connects them?

    But how would she even do that?

    It¡¯s not like she can find the organ in charge of her Qi sense and pair it to her sinuses.

    Or maybe¡­hmmm.

    It¡¯s a stretch but she¡¯s getting desperate at this point.

    She takes the Qi of her core and pulls it out slowly, Rakan raises a brow but he doesn¡¯t stop her. She keeps the thread connected to her core, a constant stream as it travels up her body and reaches her nose.

    Okay¡­now what?

    She¡­doesn¡¯t know, she was kind of hoping she¡¯d smell something at this point by connecting the two but nothings happening. Rakan hasn¡¯t stopped her though, so maybe she¡¯s on the right track. She wracks her brain and decides on something that may or may not work.

    She molds her Qi to the contours of her nose.

    Still nothing changes.

    She grumbles in frustration, maybe the connection to her core is too weak? She bolsters it with some more Qi but again nothing. Maybe connect it to her brain as well? But she doesn¡¯t know which part takes in scent, and it¡¯s best not to deal directly with the mind until her roots are much deeper.

    She grumbles in frustration, what is she missing?

    On a whim she mimics the actions of her nose with that of her Qi mold surrounding it. Trying to take in air through the ethereal.

    Something changes.

    Just a hint of mint.

    Tantra opens her eyes and lets loose a victorious smile.

    -

    ¡°Leeeet¡¯s go!¡± a boy says, ¡°to the centre of the DarkWoods my fellow friends.¡±

    ¡°Tokar, just because the forest¡¯s emptier than usual ¡®cause of the tide doesn¡¯t mean we¡¯ll survive.¡± A girl with long black bangs points out.

    ¡°Ranya agrees, this is a dumb idea.¡±

    Pinia just nods along to their wisdom.

    ¡°Argh, you guys are so lammmeee, lame, lame, lame. Where¡¯s your spine?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a line between courage and stupidity.¡± A voice says from behind them.

    All their eyes turn to face a servant guard.

    ¡°Hey kids, don¡¯t mind me, just giving some elderly advice.¡±

    Tokar harrumphs, ¡°If I wanted advice from a mortal, I¡¯d ask my parents¡±

    The guard raises a brow, ¡°pretty sure I¡¯m further on the path than you kid.¡±

    Ranya tilts her head, ¡°you¡¯re in foundation?¡±

    ¡°Yup, so maybe heed what I have to say eh?¡±

    Tokar crosses his arms, ¡°prove it.¡±

    The man raises a brow then shrugs.

    In the next moment he is beside the boy.

    It wasn¡¯t instantaneous movement, but it was fast. Pinia might have seen every motion, but she couldn¡¯t have trusted her instincts to react to something of that speed.

    Tokar yelps and jumps.

    ¡°Believe me now, hmmm?¡±

    Tokars eyes sparkle and Pinia sighs.

    ¡°That¡¯s so cool! Do it again.¡±

 Ch.57:Welcome Home Son

    Tantra scribbles on a piece of paper, marking all the significant geographical locations over an outline of Rikidan. All the major cities and all the foci containing Godbeasts. She does the capital last, as a kind of seal to her illustrious work. Kiki hawks over her shoulder, watching her with the stern gaze of a veteran mother.

    Eventually, Tantra finishes, writing down Goroka with a smile and presents it to Kiki.

    She doesn¡¯t even bother to look at it.

    ¡°You forgot the Garamar,¡± she says accusatively.

    Tantra puffs her cheeks, ¡°Garamar is stupid, it shouldn¡¯t even be alowed to exist.¡±

    ¡°But it does,¡± Kiki says, ¡°so you will write it, or I¡¯ll drop you in the middle of a forest.¡±

    Tantra grumbles, ¡°I already know directions Kiki, that¡¯ll just be annoying¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the point¡±

    -

    A lot of things come out of traveling with the same fools for the better part of the year. You learn their habits, and more than a few secrets. You learn which ones thrash in their sleep (Etra), and which ones snore like a Godbeast (Rakan). The intimacy is almost familial, after so much time. Tantra feels as though she¡¯s known these people for decades, despite it being only two years.

    Which means, of course, that tomfoolery is fair game.

    Etra carefully places a baby boa on Yorins sleeping form, letting out a slight snicker as Tantra sighs. Rakan and Kisrin aren¡¯t paying attention, focused on their discussion of what to look out for on the way to Kisrin¡¯s village.

    Mostly the topic revolves around goblins.

    Aola is one of the closer villages to the Dead God, so they have to deal with goblins like they were pests. Which they are, they¡¯re just much stronger than a pest should be, and mutate at a rate that far surpasses the average spirit beast, so long as there¡¯s something to eat. Curiously, they aren¡¯t known to eat each other, despite the abundance of easy meat that would provide, almost acting like a tribe rather than the monsters they are.

    Tantra hears a yelp and she turns to find Yorin scampering away from the slithering snake, the thing just stares at him and takes out its tongue to taste the air.

    ¡°Hah!¡± Etra barks, ¡°take that you sissy!¡±

    Yorin grumbles a few curses under his breath, which Tantra does not appreciate, she¡¯ll need to teach him the consequences of using such foul language so freely again. It simply isn¡¯t proper!

    ¡°Guys?¡± Erick says, ¡°what do we do with the snake?¡±

    ¡°We could eat it,¡± Yorin says darkly.

    Etra tilts her head, ¡°never had snake before.¡±

    Tantra looks at her with a brow raised, ¡°really?

    ¡°Not all of us can have such delicacies delivered on a silver platter.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not really a delicacy, isn¡¯t even all that good, kind of like chicken but blander. Needs a good amount of seasoning which we don¡¯t have to make it worth anything.¡±

    ¡°Since when were you a chef?¡±

    ¡°Since never, I¡¯ve just had a few conversations with the staff back at the mansion.¡±

    ¡°Oooh, you graced them with your majesty did you, they must have been ever so grateful.¡±

    ¡°They were,¡± Tantra says, turning up her nose, ¡°as they should be.¡±

    Etra snickers, ¡°you''re pretty good at acting like a pompous prick.¡±

    ¡°Comes with having to spend so long dealing with them¡±

    ¡°Fair¡±

    -

    Walking the roads have actually become quite a pleasant exercise for Tantra, both physically and metaphysically. She¡¯s still maintaining her brand of forceful gathering, which is doing something to her will besides making it stronger, which is interesting. How can she even tell? Well, normal gatherings getting harder, while this new method¡¯s getting easier, and considering this one has a high ratio for a ridiculous speed, she just keeps maintaining it. The strain on her soul has lessened, although not disappeared, she¡¯s still toeing the line, the compression taking much longer to reverse than to enact, but each breath is making it compress less. She can tell because she can take more without needing to stop for the day. Which is great! Means her will¡¯s actually getting stronger, although slowly.

    Now that she thinks about it, she doesn¡¯t really know what will is.

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    ¡°Teacher Rakan.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°What is ¡®will¡¯?¡±

    He turns to give her an incredulous look, ¡°will is will,¡± he says simply, as though she were stupid.

    Tantra ignores the look.

    ¡°Yes, but how does it work, is it guided by my soul? Does it originate from my mind? Those kinds of questions.¡±

    He shrugs, ¡°no idea, will¡¯s just the metaphysical muscle that lets you do the cool shit of cultivation, don¡¯t think anyones dissected its intricacies.¡±

    ¡°Because cultivators aren¡¯t researchers?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡±

    ¡°That still feels strange, is there no one curious about the workings of reality?¡±

    ¡°If there is, they''re keeping it a secret, and my dumbass isn¡¯t gonna find it anytime soon. So all i¡¯ve got to give is that no, to my knowledge, no one is curious. They just want to get stronger.¡±

    ¡°Feels like a waste,¡± Tantra muses.

    ¡°Waste my ass,¡± Etra interrupts, ¡°why would we need to know the shit when the shit works just fine in ignorance.¡±

    ¡°What if there was another path hiding away that just needed an inquisitive mind to find?¡±

    Rakan snorts, ¡°I can guarantee that if such a thing exists, whoever has the knowledge will keep it far, far away from the general public''s grasp. There¡¯s also shit like condensation, which is just generally useless.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s been helping with my will¡±

    ¡°Yeah, barely¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°how would you know?¡±

    Rakan taps his nose, ¡°I can smell how many breaths you take.¡±

    ¡°You count that?¡± Erick says, ¡°That''s weird.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure your opinion¡¯ll change once we get to the nights training kid¡±

    Erick pales.

    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Yorin says, ¡°no need to be mean¡±

    ¡°¡®No need to be mean¡¯? What are you, five?¡± Etra asks.

    ¡°Fuck off,¡±

    ¡°Yorin!¡±

    ¡°Hey, she deserved it!¡±

    ¡°Such foul language will not be coming from your tongue young man, no matter the reason.¡±

    Kisrin chuckles as they continue to move forward, they¡¯ve gotten pretty close to his village, should get there by nightfall even at their pace. Kisrin has been quieter as they¡¯ve gotten closer, she doesn¡¯t know why but it doesn¡¯t seem like a bad thing, maybe reminiscing? Tantra¡¯s happy for him, another one of them gets to see their family!

    Then it¡¯s a straight shot to Ralth.

    She¡¯s so close.

    -

    Villages are things of persistence.

    Despite all the dangers that living past the walls brings, these non-cultivators manage to thrive and feed all the empire with their exports. All of them have experiences with spirit beasts, and a few with beast tides. Kisrins village in particular is a veteran to goblins, as shown by the multitude of the green bastards they meet on the road to Aola.

    Point being, a village that¡¯s been fending off such dangers constantly doesn¡¯t suddenly just fall, not unless something extraordinary happened.

    As Kisrin stands in front of his home, he contemplates what could have caused so much destruction. The smell of rotting corpses has been invading his sinuses for a while now, long before they even got to the village.

    That was his first sign that something was wrong.

    Foot traffic between villages really depends on where you live, in places close to The Var Expanse, there really isn¡¯t much to be found except for the greater caravans. Safety in numbers is how mortals survive in a world of divine beasts and immortals after all. So it wasn¡¯t strange when they found no one on the road, not strange at all.

    What was strange was that they found nothing else.

    No birds, no critters, not even a single goblin.

    Those things infest the Therak plains so he¡¯s not sure why he didn¡¯t find it strange that there were none. Perhaps it was his excitement in seeing his family again.

    Well now he¡¯s seen them, or at least some of them, pops must have been in the market ¡®cause only ma and his two brothers are here.

    Charred black, flesh and bone exposed in all their glory.

    He recognizes them from their sizes, not their features, they don''t really have those anymore. Ma is obviously the tallest, the other two were younger than him after all, it would be kind of ridiculous if they reached her height.

    It¡¯s kind of a running joke in his corner of the village how he looks like the youngest of the three of them despite the contrary being true. He always got teased by Yalek and Morath about it, irritated him to no end.

    He wouldn¡¯t mind being the butt end of a joke or two right now.

    It¡¯s strange, he doesn¡¯t really feel anything, because none of this feels real.

    Like a bad dream, and he¡¯s just waiting to wake up.

    Someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

    He doesn¡¯t turn around, doesn¡¯t want to, he can tell from the texture and size that it¡¯s Rakan, and turning around would serve no other purpose than to take his eyes away from his family.

    ¡°We¡¯ll bury them,¡± Rakan whispers.

    ¡°What about pops?¡± Kisrin says absently, ¡°he¡¯s not here.¡±

    Rakan squeezes his shoulder but doesn¡¯t answer.

    Kisrin doesn¡¯t really need an answer, all the bodies can only be distinguished through their proportions. Even if he could recognize him, does he expect his friends to dig through tens of thousands of corpses?

    Maybe he should just bury all of them.

    A tempting thought, but unrealistic.

    ¡°An immortal did this,¡± Kisrin says suddenly,

    ¡°It could have been a beast,¡± Tantra replies weakly

    Kisrin shakes his head ¡°the divine beasts are too far, there are cities between Aola and The Expanse, they would have been driven away before they could¡¯ve caused damage like this.¡±

    ¡°But¡­but a person couldn¡¯t have done this.¡±

    ¡°Plenty of people would if they had the power to,¡± Rakan says, ¡°most of them are dealt with before they reach immortality though.¡±

    Erick vomits, he¡¯s been doing that a lot since they got to the village.

    Should he be vomiting too? He doesn¡¯t feel nauseous.

    He doesn¡¯t really feel anything.

 Ch.58:Staring At Stars

    The jolly nature or their journey kind of died a brutal death when they witnessed the remains of Kisrin¡¯s village.

    Tantra doesn¡¯t know what to do, doesn¡¯t even know where to start. How does one comfort their friend after such a tragedy? Is it arrogant of her to even think of trying? Everything, gone, like the flicker of a flame, relegated to memory. Kisrin might well be the last of Aola, the last one with the burden of carrying it in his mind. She can¡¯t know that, surely some escaped but there were just so many bodies. All of them falling apart through decay like melting wax, ignored by carrion entirely. That last bit doesn¡¯t really make sense.

    There are so many corpses.

    A practical feast.

    She feels a little sick thinking about it.

    How would she feel if she came back home, only to find corpses and rubble? Everything just gone? She doesn¡¯t know, can¡¯t even begin to imagine, obviously it would hurt.

    So she has to do something for him, if only to share in the pain and lighten his burden. Which brings her here, gathering her courage behind the boy as he stares at the night sky. His caramel skin and brown curls illuminated by the moonlight, he looks unbothered, but Tantra¡¯s been trained to see through masks, and it doesn¡¯t take a genius to recognize that Kisrin is hiding his pain through indifference.

    She takes a breath and steps forward, sitting next to the boy.

    He doesn¡¯t turn to look at her, continuing his vigil against the stars.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± She manages to say.

    He flicks a causal glance at her before he returns to staring.

    ¡°Just¡­looking at the stars¡±

    ¡°Capra and Lutrinae?¡±

    He nods an affirmative.

    ¡°Would you mind if I joined you?¡±

    He just shrugs and keeps staring, so she takes it as permission.

    The constellations aren¡¯t exactly something she¡¯s well educated in, having cursory knowledge from the few books that talk about them. Capra, if she remembers correctly, is the dancing goat, while Lutrinae is the sleeping otter. They always grace the night sky in midwinter.

    ¡°Ma loved the constellations,¡± Kisrin says suddenly, ¡°taught me each one and their stories. My favorite of course was Draconis Major, because, you know, dragons. Always get a good story with a dragon.¡±

    ¡°I find them kind of predictable,¡± Tantra replies carefully, ¡°it''s always something do with hordes of gold and stolen princesses, why would a dragon of all things need a princess?¡±

    Kisrin chuckles, ¡°fair, but you can¡¯t deny that the tale of cultivators facing something impossible for the sake of love is kind of endearing.¡±

    ¡°If only all of them were so kind,¡± Tantra whispers.

    Kisrin just nods.

    ¡°What about your father, what did he like?¡±

    Kisrin lays on the ground with his hands behind his head.

    ¡°Pops took care of the family, and that¡¯s all he did, ever. Ma only learned farm work from grandpa, and the farmers refused to have a woman tilling their fields, so she couldn¡¯t really help with coin. Tried to learn more womanly shit like tailoring or a spot of alchemy, unfortunately those niches were already taken by the local hags.¡±

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    Tantra chuckles, ¡°we call that cornering the market.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s stupid,¡±

    ¡°Not to the one who¡¯s got the market cornered.¡±

    Kisrin grunts.

    Tantra looks down at him as he lays there on the grass. She¡¯s not sure if what she¡¯s doing is helping but it¡¯s getting him talking, that¡¯s a good sign right? It¡¯s better than most at least.

    ¡°Hey Kisrin?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°How far along are you with the threading exercises?¡±

    He raises a brow at her, ¡°I can move it down most of my arm, why?¡±

    ¡°I want you to try threading three into a rope, can you do that?¡±

    -

    Tantra¡¯s helping Kisrin in the best way she knows how.

    Distraction!

    Specifically by doing a training marathon, the rest joined as well, even Erick. Which brings us to the side of the road in the middle of a bright day indeed, where all six of them are doing simultaneous burpees with Rakan counting as he jumps. He¡¯s the only one who can keep his breathing steady enough to actually say anything intelligible while exercising, the rest just focused on the burpees.

    Erick is panting like a dog so he¡¯ll probably drop out soon, but that¡¯s okay, no ones really expecting him to compete, and it means Tantra won¡¯t be in last place. She may be in foundation, but the flip side of getting there so early is that she hasn¡¯t really had the time to build her strength. Foundation is, afterall to get your body acclimated to Qi, while deepening your roots is to make the body capable of taking more Qi before reaching exhaustion. While she¡¯s very far along with her roots, considering her age, she still doesn¡¯t have the best baseline.

    Better than before she went to the sect, much better.

    But still weaker than her friends.

    Although that gap has been closing lately, where before she¡¯d lose most of their hand to hand spars, now she wins about half. She¡¯s not sure how much of that is strength and how much of it is skill, but she is improving. They¡¯ve been doing a lot of spars lately, Rakan being the undisputed champion of course, but it¡¯s useful to face someone so far ahead. Neither of them use Qi of course, they¡¯re not trying to kill them.

    ¡°Twenty!¡±

    Erick drops out, panting heavy on the ground. Tantra¡¯s kind of impressed, he¡¯s sprung back from being a literal stick to actually having a decent build for his age. Sure the exercise is bodyweight, so it''s easier for him, but it''s still a lot considering where he started.

    Rakan really doesn¡¯t know the meaning of mercy in his training regimens.

    Keeps them survivable though, Tantra can¡¯t realistically expect to match Rakan in their spars if he went all out.

    She remembers how he fought that bear.

    The memory of the whole thing has kind of solidified into a crystal in her mind, if she feels like it, she can pull it up, and sometimes when she¡¯s distracted by one thing or another it¡¯ll pop into her thoughts. She doesn¡¯t really know how to deal with the feelings involved so she just doesn¡¯t.

    ¡°Thirty!¡±

    She¡¯s starting to shake on the pushups now, her best for those is fourty, which isn¡¯t all that much but it''s more than one, which she couldn¡¯t even do when she started training. She¡¯s progressed quite far in the¡­she doesn¡¯t know, has it rolled into January yet? The slight chill tells her that it''s still winter, but that¡¯s about all she¡¯s got until they reach a village or city.

    ¡°Fourty!¡±

    -

    Tantra is meditating.

    Rakan is taking over for her on the shift, he only does this occasionally, but after she told him what she was going to try, he agreed without hesitation.

    It¡¯s been almost a year since she managed to pull on four threads, going from three to four took about seven months, maybe more, but she¡¯s been stuck on four for so long.

    No more.

    She pulls five threads from her core and blood immediately starts weeping out of the pores on her skin, but she holds all five with a grip of iron, not willing to lose them.

    This is just the first step after all.

    Ignoring the pain wracking her body, she takes the threads and slowly brings them together. Wrapping them into a rope ever so slowly, her robes, at this point, are soaked with blood. Luckily they have cleaning scripts, so it shouldn¡¯t take more than a night to get rid of.

    She loses control of the tiny rope she¡¯s created and vomits a torrent of blood, feeling lightheaded, she takes a moment to get her bearings.

    ¡°Did you do it?¡± Rakan asks.

    She just turns to him and smiles wide with blood stained teeth.

 Ch.59:One Of Us!

    Kisrin stares at the words in the little journal handed to him by Tantra.

    It¡¯s leatherbound and somehow soft to the touch, with a creamy white exterior. It houses inside of it a technique, along with all the theoreticals of how the technique works, and a few advanced applications. All of it is ridiculous.

    ¡°Is this how you got to foundation so quickly?¡± He asks.

    ¡°Exactly,¡± she says, ¡°you see now why I insisted you focus on the control exercises.¡±

    ¡°And you think I can do this without accidentally killing myself?¡±

    Tantra nods.

    Kisrin just¡­stares at her.

    She¡¯s pretty shit at dealing with grief isn¡¯t she?

    Kisrin can see the effort pretty plainly, and frankly he isn¡¯t very impressed, but he¡­appreciates it nonetheless. Yorin is worse somehow, while Etra just knows not to try, giving him the space he needs. Rakan¡¯s just been acting like his usual self around him, which is honestly the most helpful of all of them.

    Being treated like nothing''s wrong lets him pretend that nothing¡¯s wrong. Everyone else is just constantly reminding him that his family and home are gone. He hasn¡¯t cried yet, he¡¯s kind of surprised by that, he loses everything and can¡¯t even shed a tear? That¡¯s a little cruel, isn¡¯t it? They at least deserved his tears.

    ¡°Kisrin?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    Tantra purses her lips but ignores his lapse in concentration, ¡°try it, you¡¯ve already been circulating for a while now, it should speed up the process drastically, you just have to make sure to go slow.¡±

    Kisrin shrugs, what¡¯s he got to lose?

    Literally nothing.

    He sits in a lotus stance, resting his feet on his thighs as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Unnecessary, he¡¯s not gathering, but it¡¯s a nice little comfort. He looks inside himself, well, doesn¡¯t really look, more like uses his Qi sense to get an understanding of his internals. All his major meridians are cleansed, and upwards of two hundred minor ones. It¡¯s gotten a little difficult, needing a few days worth of soul Qi just to cleanse one. It¡¯s frustrating but he¡¯s making progress.

    He finds his core overlapping with his heart. Meridians and the core serve distinct purposes. The core stores Qi, and while meridians do the same, any Qi stored in them enhances the corresponding body part. Unfortunately meridians don¡¯t grow, at least in no way that he knows of, so the only way to enhance that micro boost is to increase density, which requires a lot of investment for just one meridian before anchoring. That¡¯s the other thing they do, acting as anchors so that the third step is easier, although he¡¯s heard it''s just as much about self understanding as it is about cleansing the meridians.

    He wonders how well he understands himself.

    Probably not all that much, he¡¯s a kid after all.

    He takes a few motes from his core, and carefully moves it to what the journal described as a ¡®chamber¡¯, he doesn¡¯t know the body all that well, but the heart being some kind of pump sounds kind of ingenious. He¡¯s never examined it with his Qi before, because, well, dying, but now he¡¯s kind of amazed by the sensations that transfer through his Qi.

    Ba-dum.

    Ba-dum.

    It¡¯s so fast, don¡¯t the muscles get tired? He wonders what each chamber is for, the book specified that there are four but not what they did. Gathering and sending maybe? That¡¯s what makes the most sense to him, but then why are there four instead of two? He has a sudden urge to study biology to understand what it is he¡¯s feeling right now.

    But he¡¯s not here for that.

    He lets out the breath he¡¯d been holding, and with the determination of a martyr, he boosts his blood.

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    A sweet kiss from mother nature, like all the dryads came and made a resting place of his heart, enriching it with their roots. It¡¯s so overwhelming and so good. Like a shot of ecstacy coursing through his veins.

    Huh.

    That might be exactly what it is.

    He takes another clump of Qi and boosts his blood again.

    The cool winds after a hard day of work, wiping sweat from the brow in satisfaction.

    He boosts again.

    -

    Tantra stares at Rakan.

    Rakan stares at Tantra.

    They¡¯ve been maintaining this standoff for a full minute, neither blinking or speaking. Rakan¡¯s a weird mix of happy and frustrated. The kid has spirit, sure, but she¡¯s on the more cautious side of things when it comes to cultivation. He wishes she was less cautious when it comes to violence though, he wants to see the brutality and tenacity of the Tantra that fought the bear. He¡¯s tried to be extra annoying just to pull it out of her but she adamantly refuses, being all lame and cautious. That¡¯s all well and good for a sword or something, but you¡¯ve gotta fit the aesthetic of the weapon you''re wielding!

    Okay, not the best combat advice but the point still stands.

    Rakan sighs, giving up on their little staring match, ¡°I was hoping we could pair your Qi senses properly.¡±

    ¡°So the idea has merit then?¡±

    Rakan grumbles, how to word this?

    ¡°Yes, but it¡¯s extremely dangerous, do too much and you¡¯ll kill youself quick.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m planning on bringing my organs to foundation before trying it in practice.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get it kid, even if they won¡¯t take damage, they¡¯ll still get exhausted. Organs aren¡¯t meant to be exhausted, they''re made for consistency. That full body boost idea of yours would have some serious backlash, assuming you live at all.¡±

    Tantra¡¯s gaze doesn¡¯t relent, and Rakan has to suppress the urge to sigh.

    ¡°What¡¯s gotten you in such a rush, not that I¡¯m unhappy with you brainstorming your very own technique, it¡¯s just unlike you. You don¡¯t strike me as the type to be obsessed with strength.

    Tantra leans back and crosses her arms, ¡°we could have died to the bear.¡±

    Rakan can¡¯t really argue with that logic.

    Well, she¡¯d learn how to do this herself eventually, she¡¯s inquisitive and its not exactly complicated. All he¡¯s been doing is delaying the inevitable, and delaying the inevitable is the realm of cowards.

    That and he doesn¡¯t much care if she hurts herself.

    We learn best through pain afterall.

    He extends out his arm and flicks his wrist, reaching into his storage artifact and making a ball appear out of thin air.

    He tosses it to Tantra.

    She catches it.

    She looks to the ball, then to him, then back to the ball.

    ¡°Make it float,¡± Rakan says simply.

    ¡°Make it what?¡±

    ¡°You heard me, you want to train intention? This is how you do it. Take your Qi, surround the ball, and use your will to bend reality, convincing it that the ball is something that floats. It¡¯s not even that complicated of a concept, so go on, make it float.¡±

    Tantra just stares at him then nods, closing her eyes and pulling Qi from her core. He can see the thread pretty clearly, his Qi sight being too advanced or her body lacking in Qi, take your pick. Her control is insane, losing barely any motes of Qi.

    She brings the thread up to the palm of her hand, then disperses the Qi into a cloud around the ball, losing significantly more Qi due to both the shape her Qi has taken and being exposed to the atmosphere. Qi techniques outside the body need to be done swiftly, as the control needed to maintain something constant is far beyond even her. It¡¯s why a lot of techniques are variations of internal boosting, cultivators flocking to simplicity and ease. Anything more complicated requires actual control, or a dao.

    He watches as the ball lifts, just a millimeter, perhaps less, but his eyes catch the separation.

    She lets out a heavy breath and lets go of her Qi.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t do it,¡± Tantra laments.

    Rakan can barely contain his smile, ¡°try again.¡±

    -

    Something is moving.

    It has eyes and a maw of steel.

    Many things have been crushed from its maw, and many words have been spoken. English is a strange language, one of words rather than pheromones, but it learned how to adapt. It''s kind excel at that, adapting.

    They don¡¯t really consider it one of their own anymore though, which is a shame, it misses the sense of family. But there¡¯s plenty of the strange skinned folk to keep it company, so it makes do.

    So it walks.

    It doesn¡¯t know where it is going.

    It never does in this place, it¡¯s confusing, but there¡¯s plenty of company and plenty of food. Sometimes both, and those days are quite the treat indeed. Eating is what it¡¯s kind was born to do, but that¡¯s not the only thing in the world, so it made a compromise.

    Sometimes it would eat.

    Sometimes it would talk.

    Right now it is hungry.

    As it walks through the foliage, it searches for its next meal.

 Ch.60:A Bloodied Blade

    Alchemy has two subcategories.

    There¡¯s the basic bitch alchemy, taking flora from nature to make salves and concoctions. It serves its purpose well enough, for mortals at least, fighting infections and reducing the symptoms of disease. There¡¯s also the ones that make you high, which is, personally, Korosona¡¯s favorite.

    Then there¡¯s that real shit, extracting resources of any kind, so long as it has that sweet nectar the cultivator world references as Qi. She¡¯s never liked the word Qi, so reductive of such a wonderful substance. It¡¯s application extends beyond the medicinal, want to be faster? Grind down some Rosolome petals, Ginseng, and Forsim leaves, boil the batch in beast blood, then slowly filter out all the physical components, leaving a nice little elixir for your consumption. How about stronger? Eak seeds, chamomile, Tamkip roots, all boiled in, you guessed it! Beast blood!

    Beast blood is the bread and butter of Qi alchemy, it simply absorbs the properties of the ingredients like a slime absorbing¡­well anything really. Those buggers are a pain in the ass, lucky that they don¡¯t live in the DarkWoods.

    Anyway, there¡¯s a lot you can do with the right ingredients. It¡¯s like an equation, and you just have to understand the components to make something truly magnificent. Masterworks often require high concentration Qi ingredients, and those are hard to find. But a true alchemist makes due with what they got, not often you get to choose your ingredients, unless your in a position like Korosona¡¯s. Then you just have to ask and ye shall receive!

    Even the more restricted ingredients.

    Like DarkWoods Aspen sap.

    A curious creation. In everywhere but the darkwoods, trees adapt to Qi by making it a supplement, but not the main source of nourishment. DarkWood Aspen takes Qi, and makes it it¡¯s sole focus, becoming a practical storehouse. No sunlight needed, no minerals required, their roots and leaves are built solely to absorb the Qi radiating from the foci. Makes them a wonderful source of ingredients, except, of course, the sap.

    There is one rule in alchemy, don¡¯t fuck with ingredients that touch the soul, it always ends badly.

    The concoction she¡¯s swishing in her little flask looks so innocent, so innocent indeed. Yet it¡¯ll destroy whoever takes from it. Not quickly, no if you¡¯ve got a foundation you¡¯ll be able to put something of a fight against the corruption, but a bit of it always attaches and stays, until, eventually, you are completely consumed.

    The things that result from corruption are best left unspoken.

    She hums in contemplation of the death-in-a-bottle she¡¯s created. Her personal project is to find a way to purify the sap, so that only the positives emerge. Could you imagine the boon it would be to the sect? But she¡¯s been at it for a century and still no progress, no matter what ingredients or methods she¡¯s used.

    She sighs and turns to her little pet turtle.

    ¡°Well Rak, another one down the hatch!¡±

    The turtle snaps its beak, and a pinprick of Qi shoots towards Korosona, going through her eye and coming out the other side of her head.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s just rude!¡±

    -

    Rathia likes her little walks through the DarkWoods, reminding her of the beauty of nature, even if it¡¯s influenced by a foci. This has been her home for the past¡­two hundred years? A decent amount of time, and most of her life, funny that her first century was when she experienced the most growth, forging has been¡­a challenge. When she heard how long it could take she could hardly believe her ears, but now that she¡¯s experiencing it, well, calling it a bottleneck would be like comparing a wolf to a terrorclaw. It simply takes forever for the body to adapt to the abuse, and she¡¯s been going as fast as she can tolerate the pain. Which is a lot, considering her cultivation, but still not enough. She sighs and it is the sound of a blade being sheathed, they formed this sect, out in the edges of nowhere, so that each and all could focus on their cultivation without the mortal distractions of war and the foolish disputes between sects in inner Rikidan, and while it has served that purpose, she can¡¯t help but be a bit dissatisfied with the results.

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    Oh well, cultivation is a thing of centuries after all, if the journey were short then immortals would infest Testhim like maggots infesting a corpse. Or like the bandits in the Woods. The master told them not to involve themselves with the Rakaja, and she didn¡¯t! At least not while they were attacking the sect, if only to respect his wishes.

    But now their existence serves no purpose, and although the master hasn¡¯t rescinded his statement, Rathia isn¡¯t so weak that she¡¯d care.

    So she¡¯s been looking, searching around the DarkWoods in their known territory, and cutting down whoever she finds, unless their disciples from the River¡¯s Scales or Hallowed bones, then she leaves them alone, but everyone else is as good as dead.

    She whistles a simple tune as she strolls down the forest.

    An arrow goes flying for her throat, much faster than an arrow should be, cutting through air at a speed the eye can¡¯t follow. Well, mortal eyes, Rathia unsheathes her falcata and cuts the thing just before it would skewer her.

    She turns to face the direction of the archer.

    ¡°Not the kindest of introductions,¡± says the edge of a blade drawing blood, ¡°I¡¯d expect that even bandits have some degree of decorum.¡±

    Two men and one woman land in front of her from the treetops. The woman carries a simple sword, perhaps some variant of the jian, while the man in front of her sports a rather dramatically sized axe. The last one just has a spear.

    All of them are quite powerful, all of them in integration, and their Qi rivals the density of old monsters. But the fact she can even see into their bodies is a testament to how truly pathetic their foundations are. There¡¯s something else there, a little bead at the centre of their cores with tendrils that spread like veins and arteries. It does not have a colour, nor a shade, but Rathia can see it all the same.

    ¡°Imbibed a bit too much of the sap have you?¡± She says as she blocks another arrow.

    The woman lets loose a smile full of fangs, but doesn¡¯t go to say anything.

    ¡°We do what we can,¡± says the man with an axe, ¡°not all of us can spend our time holed away in our fancy sects.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm, sounds like an excuse to me but you do as you please. It won''t really matter after today.¡±

    The woman with the fangs barks a laugh and it is the call of the hunt, ¡°you really think you can beat us? That¡¯s hilarious! Koraz, can I keep her?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Koraz grumbles, ¡°you¡¯ve gotten us in enough shit already, no need to add more.¡±

    The woman grumbles but acquiesces.

    ¡°Can we hurry this up?¡± Says the man with the spear, ¡°all this banter serves little to no purpose, who¡¯s even here to listen?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re no fun Garim, it¡¯s a process! Everyone follows the process,¡± the woman says.

    Garim groans.

    Another arrow flies and Rathia tilts her head out of the way.

    ¡°Is that archer of yours gonna show his face or am I going to have to hunt him down?¡±

    Koraz shrugs his axe of his shoulder and faces her, ¡°hunting, unfortunately, honoured cultivator.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d prefer honoured master but that works.¡±

    Then he is in front of her axe bearing down-

    She sidesteps the blow, and the shockwave could have caused a lesser cultivator to stumble, but she stands strong. The spear man goes to puncture her guts and she parries with her blade, which gives the perfect opportunity for an arrow to strike her in the shoulder.

    Hmmm.

    That¡¯s going to be troublesome.

    The woman tries cut through Rathia¡¯s back, but Rathia just takes a step closer to the spearman, blocking a second blow as the axeman swings with wild abandon. Each blow leaves shockwaves, reverberations through reality from the sheer amount of Qi infused in their weapons.

    Rathia is not impressed, she brings her falcata up, infusing it with liquid Qi, and draws a deep line across the spearman''s chest. He screams and takes a step back, and Rathia would continue her pursuit but there¡¯s currently an axe in her shoulder and a blade piercing through her back and out her guts.

    That¡¯s fine, barely even a scratch honestly, and now she¡¯s fulfilled the requirements.

    She pulls deep from her dao, and the blood on her falcata vibrates and glows, wrapping around the edge of the blade.

    It¡¯s funny how dao¡¯s can work, she doesn¡¯t have the dao of blood, yet it is integral since it mutated.

    She whips her blade in front of her, she whips her blade behind her, and the swordswoman barely manages to dodge. But the axeman? Guts spill from his person like water does a fountain as he is almost cleanly bisected, he lets out a scream and brings his axe up again.

    His motion blurs, even to Rathia, and the next thing she knows her left arm is chopped away from her body.

    She blinks.

    That was too fast.

    His veins and arteries turn purple as he screams and-

    She drains her core and cuts off his head.

    She turns, but the swordswoman and spearman are gone.

    That and the arrows have stopped.

    Rathia lets out a sigh as she sheathes her blade and picks up her arm.

 Ch.61:No One Likes Winter

    ¡°Happy birthday!¡±

    They all yell at the top of their lungs(yes, even Rakan), their fellow restaurant goers grumble but no one outright complains to them. It would take suicidal courage to admonish a cultivator. Not that they would kill them, or really do anything, but you don¡¯t go petting bears just because a few are docile. Unless they¡¯re Dune Bears, but that¡¯s besides the point, the analogie is for normal bears.

    Yorin is absolutely delighted by the scene in front of him, plates upon plates of different kinds of curry, all for his little stomach. Tantra is horrified by the mess he¡¯s going to make, but she can put that aside for now considering the occasion.

    ¡°Curry!¡± He bellows like a warcry, then starts his crusade against etiquette and manners.

    Rakan chuckles at the display, taking his lamb chops and eating them with a surprising amount of care, considering he doesn¡¯t really act like a proper gentleman.

    Erick is sitting next to her, so manners are obligatory, much to his dismay. But Tantra will not tolerate an improper upbringing! The boy will learn manners someday, and Tantra will keel over before she gives up on her sacred duty.

    Kisrin is fine. In terms of eating, not in terms of¡­everything else. He¡¯s been getting better over the months, but the times he just stares at nothing are still frequent. She doesn¡¯t really know what she can do for him beyond what she¡¯s already done. Which is just to talk, she wants to get him a gift or something but she feels as though that would be faux pas, considering she¡¯d essentially be telling him to celebrate the destruction of his village.

    Etra¡­well the less said about her table manners the better.

    Just as she¡¯s about to enjoy her noodles, someone places a hand on her shoulder.

    She turns around disgruntled to find two women wearing robes of black with a white trim with identical faces smiling at her.

    ¡°Hello!¡± One of them says,

    ¡°Are you Tantra Sol?¡± Says the other.

    Tantra just blinks at the two of them then nods hesitantly.

    ¡°Great!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d really like to talk with you!¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow at them, ¡°why?¡±

    ¡°Oh just to get your real name,¡±

    ¡°Then kill you!¡±

    The restaurant goes silent and Rakan materializes his club as the others clutch at their weapons.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re not Tantra, she¡¯s still training in¡­where was it?¡±

    ¡°The Serpent¡¯s Pinky!¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t sound right,¡±

    ¡°Well it is!¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Tantra says, ¡°what do you mean kill me?¡±

    They both look at her like she¡¯s dumb.

    ¡°What it sounds like dummy/silly!¡± They both say simultaneously.

    Rakan rises from his chair, ¡°what she means to say is why you want to kill her¡±

    ¡°But we already said!¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s an imposter!¡±

    ¡°But I''m not!¡±

    ¡°Prove it!¡± They both say simultaneously.

    Tantra scratches at her cheek, ¡°I could..uuhh¡­teach you market economics?¡±

    They both give her a flat look.

    ¡°Okay, say that she is an imposter, why should you care?¡± Rakan says.

    ¡°Money!¡± One of them says,

    The other nods enthusiastically.

    ¡°Wait, wait¡± Etra interrupts, ¡°I¡¯m not following this at all, someone hired you? To kill this chump?¡±

    They both nod at her.

    ¡°A little dishonourable to act as assassins against one so far beneath your own cultivation, isn¡¯t it?¡± Rakan says with a critical edge to his voice.

    ¡°Pfft, puh-lease, don¡¯t pull that on us, we do what we want!¡±

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    ¡°Exactly!¡±

    Rakan just stares at them and shrugs off his club, ¡°inside or outside?¡±

    -

    Unfortunately for the proprietors, the twins had chosen to get right to the violence with little to no fanfare. Each manifesting dual falchions and immediately going for Tantra¡¯s throat, they were both blocked by Rakan, but their blades managed to chip his Kanabo, what followed was a flurry of activity as Rakan took on two cultivators of who knows which realm all at once.

    He was losing.

    Not by a dramatic degree, but they were drawing lines of blood on him, switching between fainting and attacking with an eerie precision that belies their aloofness. So naturally, Tantra had to distract one of them, just one, that¡¯s all. One of the cultivators that can keep up with Rakan.

    Sure, why not.

    Not like she has any other choice.

    So she charges in, club raised high and eyes scanning for an opening. She finds none, but she just needs to distract, not beat. She brings down her club and the woman snickers before she becomes a blur and-

    Pain.

    Two blades dig deep into each of her shoulders, causing her to drop her kanab¨­ to the floor. Tantra lets out a scream as she is kicked to the ground and blood flies everywhere. She stares at the roof, contemplating life and how fucking stupid it is for getting her in this situation before the woman goes to finish her off-

    A clang echoes as a guandao blocks her blade, Tantra can hear a wet cough from behind her as the woman steps back and raises a brow.

    ¡°We¡¯re only here to kill her kiddo, stay out of the way and you might live,¡±

    ¡°Fuck, you¡± Yorin coughs.

    The woman shrugs then she is a blur again-

    Tantra, with all of her being, forces her arms to move, despite the severed muscles. She sends Qi to each shoulder and demands of them something impossible. She boosts as much as her body would allow, and grabs the woman''s ankle.

    She seems startled, actually tripping in front of Yorin.

    Yorin brings down his guandao but in that time she has cut Tantra¡¯s wrist and rolled out of the way.

    Right into Etra¡¯s staff.

    It seems to disorient more than damage, which is exactly what they need to stop her from activating her speed technique, because that can¡¯t be regular boosting, the amount of Qi it would take would be tremendous. Also Tantra still has her arms, if she were boosting regularly, her strength would match her speed.

    Tantra grabs her kanab¨­ and charges at the woman as Kisrin stabs her through the guts.

    She growls and whips out her blade at Kisrin¡¯s face, cutting a thin line as blood spurts onto the ground.

    Tantra flares with anger as she brings down her club for the second time.

    This time the woman isn¡¯t in a position where she can counter, forcing her to bear the brunt of a two handed club caste in pure steel with her dual falchions. Tantra suspects that they must have durability scripts, of that she infused them with Qi because they don¡¯t even chip.

    Etra swings her staff at the womans legs catching her off balance and-

    She becomes a blur, and Tantra can smell the sheer amount of Qi that woman just expended.

    Smells like motion somehow.

    In an instant she is in front of Etra, bearing down her blades.

    -

    His name wasn¡¯t always Rakan.

    He used to be called Okath Fars, a simple name for a simple boy. Okath means to bring about winter, it was kind of a joke among his family. Afterall no one likes winter, at least not where it snows. Few crops can be raised during such a season, and it¡¯s too cold for anyone to do anything but huddle amongst each other. He¡¯s pretty sure his family only let him join to add to the warmth.

    A lot of his early life was like that, kindness only shown when there was something to gain, otherwise he was the victim of both apathy and occasional cruelty. It¡¯s not like his family went out of their way to hurt him, they just didn¡¯t care, and when it was convenient, he would be the one that suffered for them.

    Amongst his siblings he worked the field the hardest, despite being the youngest.

    He would be the one to take the beatings.

    And he would be the one to blame if anything untoward happened to the family.

    Because he was winter.

    No one likes winter.

    Eventually, when he was old enough, he jumped at the chance to join a sect, joining the tournament barely a month after he had access to his Qi.

    He lost in the first round.

    He was tenacious though, always getting back up, always fighting.

    This was his chance.

    Hilarand obviously saw something in him, because out of all the candidates he chose Rakan.

    He didn¡¯t want to say goodbye to his family, so they left right after the tournament.

    Hilarand taught him as they travelled, taught him the ways of cultivators, and their values. He didn¡¯t really understand back then, he was only seven, but he¡¯d grow to appreciate the man¡¯s words.

    When he crossed into the sect Okath died and Rakan was born.

    He chose that name because Hilarand told him it meant strength through adversity.

    It sounded right at the time.

    Since then he¡¯d been training, pushing himself to be the best, he formed a few bonds and went on a few journeys. Reaching a level of strength that could rival someone in connection, and in only three decades. He was, in every sense, a prodigy.

    But he¡¯s never had anything like a true family.

    Over the past year he¡¯s grown fond of the fools in his charge, not to the point where he¡¯d consider them family, but on the way there certainly.

    So when he saw the woman''s blades making way for Etra¡¯s skull, he knew what he had to do.

    Rakan pulled at his core, drawing each ounce of Qi and pushing them into his legs, arms, and kanab¨­, in an instant, faster than thought itself, he was beside the woman, club flying at her.

    It burst her skull like a melon, brain matter and bone fragments flying everywhere.

    Etra stands unharmed.

    Rakan lets out a shaky breath in relief.

    Then two blades burst from his chest.

 Ch.62:A New Purpose

    Cultivators don¡¯t wear armor.

    It would be convenient, but since when did conveyance sway the judgement of a cultivator? No, if the body cannot handle the damage then it is destined to die. So it¡¯s kind of become a way to recognize cultivators from the rest of the chaff, the robes and tokens. Tantra has three distinct reasons for keeping with this idiotic tradition, firstly, her robes both fix and clean themselves, and she isn¡¯t above vanity. Secondly, cultivators are one of the few that can travel Rikidan without the need for permission from a noble house. Finally, armor doesn¡¯t really matter once you face something of Rakan¡¯s level. The bear, for example, would have broken through any simple obstacle platemail might present.

    So, cultivators don¡¯t wear armor.

    Why might this be relevant?

    Well, it meant that when the dual falchions pierced through Rakan¡¯s heart, there was nothing there to even protest its advance.

    All at a speed Tantra couldn¡¯t follow.

    The woman pulls out her blades and Rakan falls to the floor with a dull thump.

    Tantra just stares as blood pools and Rakan doesn¡¯t move.

    ¡°Miki?¡± says the woman as she approaches the corpse of who Tantra assumes is her sister.

    ¡°No, nononononono.¡± She cries, ¡°please no.¡±

    Tantra doesn¡¯t really hear her, she¡¯s staring at Rakan.

    He¡¯s still not moving.

    Rakan¡¯s the strongest cultivator she knows besides the masters, and that one elder. Despite being in purification he displayed a level of skill and strength that proved to Tantra that the realms don¡¯t really matter in the end. Sure they¡¯re convenient boosts in strength, but with the right techniques and dedication, even someone in purification can overwhelm someone in anchoring.

    Which is what she assumes these two are, well, one of them was. She doesn¡¯t have Qi sense, not to a usable degree, but that hint of motion that caught in her sinuses told her so much about the woman.

    The primary thing being that she stood no chance, the secondary being that she was using liquid Qi.

    Only someone in anchoring can achieve that.

    So she stares at the corpse.

    That¡¯s what it is now isn¡¯t it?

    It¡¯s not Rakan, not anymore, just meat and bone and sinew all sculpted together to make something like a person, but possessing no soul to pilot it. Stabbed through the back protecting someone he cares for.

    Tantra looks at the woman.

    She¡¯s bloody, real bloody. Rakan really fucked her up, an eye is dangling out of its socket and her skull looks half caved in. From the raspy breaths and occasional coughs of blood as she cries, Tantra can only assume that her ribs are busted and piercing through her lungs. Otherwise she¡¯s just bloody.

    If they wanted they could probably kill her with ease.

    Where was the honor in this?

    Tantra is just a child, and they are just mercenaries.

    Where are the cultivators?

    He died, a part of her says, in a way that befits a cultivator, at least those from the stories.

    She feels the flames of rage beginning to boil her blood. None of this was necessary, they were celebrating! They were happy! Then these bitches came and ruined the day with their stupid little job that they got from one of her siblings.

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    Because that¡¯s the only one who¡¯d care about someone pretending to be her, and the only one who''d have authorization and receive notification for when the Sol name is used.

    Except the reports from the cities they passed should have detailed her features, and clothes, so anyone who knows her would know she¡¯s no imposter. Which means someone from her family tried to kill her.

    The rage burns brighter and brighter as she stokes the fire.

    She looks at the crying woman, holding the corpse of her sister as she begs uselessly to the world. Her friends haven¡¯t struck her down, presumably because she¡¯s weeping. They¡¯re kind, truly kind, to hesitate to kill scum all because of the heart wrenching sight in front of them.

    Tantra isn¡¯t so kind.

    -

    ¡°Well junior?¡± A voice cuts through the noise.

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    The man sighs, ¡°their belongings are yours by right of combat, you can sell them to the sect or take them for yourself.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take them,¡± Tantra says absently.

    There is silence as she stares at the corpses on the floor, it wasn¡¯t hard to cave in the woman''s skull. Rakan did most of the work already, and she didn¡¯t even resist when Tantra brought down her club, continuing to bawl over the other one. Then there¡¯s the one Rakan killed, half her skull simply gone, exposing pulped brain matter and leaking some kind of clear fluid.

    ¡°Weeell?¡± The man says, ¡°any day now.¡±

    Tantra just nods to him, a hint of anger needing to be clamped down at his nonchalance. Her master¡¯s dead, couldn¡¯t spare the energy to be more considerate? But causing problems right now is a bad idea. Technically they don¡¯t even need to compensate her if she chose to give it to them, they could just take it. They¡¯re stronger than her afterall, and strength rules in the end.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take Rakan,¡± she says to her friends.

    They don¡¯t seem willing to protest.

    Fair.

    She walks over to his corpse and kneels down, rolling him over onto his back. He¡¯s still warm, it hasn¡¯t been that long, but his body¡¯s started to clamp up. Like his joints were stuck in mud. She takes a moment to stare at his face, it isn¡¯t set in a rictus of pain or some such nonsense, it¡¯s actually quite relaxed, lips tilted into a slight smile as he stares at the roof with lifeless eyes.

    She stares at him for a while, she doesn¡¯t really even have to try to find anything valuable. He kept everything he had in his storage artifact, a bangle on his right ankle, covered up by his robes so as to not be noticeable. It¡¯s pretty easy to override an imprint, you just need to chip away at it with your Qi, so most cultivators keep their artifacts somewhere concealed or hard to steal, if they have one at all.

    Artifacts that can hold more than a cultivator''s weapons are rare, and require an insane amount of expertise in array scripts to manage. Rakan¡¯s can hold a few extra things, about a bags worth besides his club, most of which is being taken up by the bone jian Tantra got stabbed with however long ago.

    All she has to do is unlatch it from his ankle and take it as her own.

    How convenient.

    She spends a while staring at Rakan, shoulders bleeding freely as her arms hang limp. She needs Qi to move them, that and intent, which makes her think she may have stumbled upon a boosting technique, but that¡¯s¡­well that¡¯s for later examination.

    Right now she¡¯s doing all she can to memorize Rakan¡¯s face.

    -

    She stares at the token in her palm, she pulls at her Qi and then it¡¯s gone, then she pulls again and it''s back again. Having imprinted her Qi onto the artifact she has a kind of permanent understanding of how much space it can carry, and what¡¯s stored inside. Rakan had a few things she didn¡¯t know about, a few technique manuals that she assumes he was going to show her once she got far enough with intention, then there¡¯s the¡­interesting novels. She doesn¡¯t know when he found the time or privacy to read those but he certainly prepared. He also left a few sweets that she definitely didn¡¯t know about.

    Unfortunately there¡¯s not enough space to store two kanab¨­¡¯s, so she still has to shoulder hers. Not willing to risk losing Rakan''s by having it outside.

    Still she was able to lighten her load a bit from her bag.

    She¡¯s surprisingly calm right now.

    There''s a simple reason for that, she has a purpose now, beyond seeing her family.

    She still wants to see them of course, but now she has to find out who tried to kill her, and after¡­well she doesn¡¯t know.

    The conclusion¡¯s kind of obvious isn¡¯t it?

    But she doesn¡¯t want to kill a member of her family.

    That would be wrong.

    The anger simmers, yes, it would be wrong, It says, leaving out the obvious implication. She doesn¡¯t know if she¡¯s so cold blooded that she could kill a member of her family after what they¡¯ve done, but it¡¯s kind of an obligation isn¡¯t it?

    Rakan died a pointless death in the crossfires of some sort of political scheme.

    She¡¯s understanding cultivator culture more and more.

    Her hatred for it only grows as time passes.

 Ch.63:Im Back!

    Running a proper business in Ralth isn¡¯t for the faint of heart.

    The common street vendors don¡¯t understand the political aspect of such an endeavor. To even begin you need investors, which usually means nobles; or, in Goruk¡¯s case, the Jade Sol.Over four decades Goruk has been serving the rich and powerful, sinking his teeth into their pockets and taking that wealth for himself.Sure he often has to bow his head and accommodate the needs of spoiled scions and pompous fools, but that¡¯s the price for success.

    ¡°Master Goruk,¡± a servant says.

    Goruk turns from his fish to face the girl, Tinia he thinks her name was? a recent acquisition, and Goruk takes altogether too long to memorize names, especially in his old age.

    ¡°What is it?¡± He asks, a little annoyed at having his work interrupted.

    The servant girl bows deep, as she should, and continues, ¡°there is a cultivator at one of the tables who wishes to speak with you.¡±

    Goruk sighs, ¡°another complaint?¡±

    ¡°No master, they claim to know you, and wish for conversation.¡±

    Goruk rubs his chin, ¡°I can¡¯t well delay my work, tell them to come to the kitchen if they wish to speak.¡±

    The servant bows again, ¡°Of course master.¡±

    He turns back to his fish,

    Bass is common in the ports of Ralth, but a proper beast? Only the deep sea creatures, where the oceans foci are rumored to reside, have mutations. They are expensive but they¡¯re also guaranteed profit for a restaurant, the rich trampling over each other to get a taste of delicacy, even if it doesn¡¯t taste all that good. He squeezes a lemon over the fish as he cooks, to add some zest. The customer didn¡¯t want any spices, but lemon isn¡¯t technically a spice, and it¡¯ll turn the meal from something bland to possibly enjoyable. He luxurates in the sound of people cooking and shouting as his many chefs scramble to fulfill orders.

    Organized chaos, just as he likes it.

    ¡°Goruk,¡± says a hoarse voice from behind him, ¡°truly it¡¯s a pleasure to see you again.¡±

    Goruk raises a hand, ¡°one second immortal, I¡¯m in a very delicate process right now, and can¡¯t afford distractions¡±

    He hears a chuckle of amusement.

    Good, a cultivator with humor, he doesn¡¯t recognize the voice but he wouldn¡¯t mind making new connections. Cultivators always bring in the best beast meat after all.

    Eventually, once he¡¯s finished cooking the fish, he turns.

    What greets his eyes is a girl that barely reaches five and a half feet in height with short black hair and dull brown eyes. She wears robes of deep purple with a green trim and sash, with something like a bone bead bracelet on her right wrist. Her left arm is practically exclusively scar tissue, along with a gigantic line of purple across her neck, she¡¯s giving an expression of placid amusement, one he¡¯s seen often on this face.

    ¡°Miss Sol?¡± he chokes out.

    She smiles, ¡°the one and only honou-¡±

    He interrupts her with a crushing hug, or at least he tries to make it crushing.

    ¡°Where have you been, girl, it¡¯s been years!¡±

    ¡°A little space would be nice,¡± she muffles into his chest.

    Goruk lets out a boisterous laugh as he backs away, ¡°Oh sweet nectar of the Gods, what happened to you, why are you wearing cultivators robes, and-¡±

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    He stops as Tantra raises a hand, ¡°We have plenty of time to chat, but first I wish to ask a favor of you.¡±

    -

    Tantra steps up to the door, friends behind her and a nervous Goruk beside her. Two years it¡¯s been, but the halls are just as she remembered them, pure white walls with red rugs of intricate designs adorning the floors, golden lampstands illuminating the halls with blue flame. Tantra remembers the layout of the mansion, despite the years, and she deliberately took the route with the smallest chance of running into her family. She¡¯s certain servants have scrambled to inform her siblings, but she doesn¡¯t much care, she has to talk to one before she considers the rest.

    She can hear the scribbling of a quill on the other side of the door.

    She takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

    ¡°Come in,¡± says a familiar voice from inside the room.

    Tantra opens the door and steps inside.

    She takes in the sight of her brother.

    Dozen is a lanky man of skeletal features, this is because he often forgets to eat when working. Out of all her siblings, he is the one with the most discipline, putting the business before anything and everything. His hair is tied back in a ponytail, uncharacteristic for him, he usually liked to keep it short. There are deep bags under his eyes.

    He doesn¡¯t look up at her.

    ¡°If you interrupted my work just to stare at me in silence I will have you clean the floors of the entire mansion.¡±

    Tantra chuckles, ¡°well hello to you too brother.¡±

    Dozen grumbles as he looks up at her. He squints, rubs at his eyes, then squints again.

    ¡°Great,¡± he says blandly, ¡°I¡¯m hallucinating¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°why would you think that?¡±

    ¡°Because you,¡± he points at her, ¡°are supposed to be in the sect, not here.¡±

    ¡°Well I¡¯m sorry to disappoint,¡±

    He grumbles at her, ¡°well come on then, if you''re real then come prove it.¡±

    Tantra smiles wide then skips over to Dozen¡¯s side, giving him a grand hug.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he chokes, ¡°you¡¯re real, you¡¯re real, let go.¡±

    Tantra chuckles as she lets him go.

    ¡°You got strong,¡± he comments, ¡°that¡¯s going to be a pain in the ass.¡±

    ¡°Oh please, you love me.¡±

    He just grunts, ¡°so as much as I want to jump for joy, I¡¯m too tired. How did you get here, and what¡¯s with the scars?¡±

    ¡°Long story, got into a few fights, survived a few fights. The travel here was a bit of a pain but we managed.¡±

    Dozen looks her up and down, ¡°are you in purification?¡±

    Tantra laughs, ¡°no silly, that takes years! I just used my head when travelling.¡±

    -

    Tantra lets out a satisfied sigh as she enters the scalding waters, feeling particular satisfaction where the many scars adorn her body. The servant girl Dozen got her can barely conceal her disgust, which for Tantra means she may as well be shouting through the rooftops. It¡­hurts, she¡¯ll certainly never manage to look like a proper lady, not with all the deep purples and reds across her body. It is disgusting, she knows, but she can¡¯t exactly get rid of them, only hope that as time passes they become less prominent.

    ¡°You can go,¡± Tantra waves to the servant girl.

    ¡°But mistres-¡±

    ¡°I was not asking.¡±

    The servant clamps her mouth shut, bows, then leaves the bathing area, leaving just her and Etra in the waters.

    ¡°Why did you lie?¡± Etra asks immediately, ¡°Do you think he was the bastard who did it?¡±

    Tantra sinks deeper into the waters, ¡°no, Dozen¡¯s too busy to comb through city records, and he¡¯s the heir, he has no motive to have me killed. Besides, the only thing he loves more than work is family.¡±

    ¡°So why then?¡±

    Tantra leans back and rests her head at the edge of the pool, ¡°So that the next assassins they send are mortal.¡±

    ¡°You think they¡¯ll send more?¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°they¡¯ll have to, it won¡¯t be hard to find who did it, cultivators only work on contracts, and they probably didn¡¯t expect us to survive to comb through their tracks. So in the next week or so it¡¯s likely we¡¯ll either get a bribe or a blade. Who knows, might even try to hire one of you.¡±

    ¡°You said we were safe here,¡± she hisses.

    ¡°You are,¡± Tantra replies, ¡°if they send assassins in the mansion, then they¡¯re a level of stupid I can¡¯t comprehend. No, so long as you stay here you won¡¯t need to worry.¡±

    ¡°That isn¡¯t exactly reassuring.¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°just enjoy the high life and train while I deal with them.¡±

    Etra grumbles a few curses that Tantra ignores.

    She¡¯s busy looking at the shadow behind the door.

    She smiles something devious as it moves away with the lull in conversation.

 Ch.64:Hello Mother(s)!

    Tantra marks down another transaction as she flips through the ledger. It¡¯s tedious work, but she¡¯s done this plenty, if only as practice given by Farsa. Which is the excuse she used with Dozen about why she wanted to do this. She could practically see the pride radiating through his exhausted features.

    Slowly she¡¯s marking down all transactions done with cultivators in the last year, about the time they arrived in Barakan. Sure she could probably move it up a few months, but Tantra is nothing if not thorough.

    Each deal made with a cultivator there is a contract, and for each contract there is justification.

    It serves two purposes.

    The first reason, the one that matters, is that it provides a detailed record of the dealings with said cultivators. The Jade Sol did not become the economic monster it is today through frivolously wasting their funds. There¡¯s always the chance they used their personal coin, but it doesn¡¯t matter much, her cards are already set.

    Knowing who did it now would just be a convenience.

    That and she needs to maintain an image, the perpetrator will expect her to do this, doing otherwise would only draw unwanted suspicion. So she flips through pages and pages of ledgers, finding each and every relevant deal, writing down the contract number for review later. She¡¯ll have one of her old servants fetch them, once they¡¯re resigned to her. If they''re not trustworthy then that¡¯s fine.

    Suddenly the door to her office bursts open, and on the other side stands a furious looking brunette. She has slight dimples across a soft face, with big blue doe eyes. She¡¯s quite short, only slightly taller than Tantra, and she¡¯s got a lean build of practiced athletics.

    ¡°Young lady!¡± Farsa says with her usual scathing tone, ¡°you finally come home and the first¡­thing¡­¡±

    Farsa trails off as she gets a good look at Tantra¡¯s neck.

    Tantra gives her a sad smile.

    ¡°Bandits,¡± she provides with her characteristically hoarse voice. It¡¯s gotten better, much better, Qi slowly repairing vocal cords as she digs her roots deeper and deeper, but it¡¯s still more scratchy than it is her natural tones.

    ¡°Hells cherubs,¡± she curses, ¡°that is¡­¡±

    Tantra¡¯s smile grows brittle, ¡°ugly right? You should come see my arm.¡±

    Farsa walks over and around the desk, letting out a slight gasp as she sees the mess of scar tissue that is Tantra¡¯s left arm. Tantra can see a few tears beading in her eyes.

    ¡°Oh sweetheart,¡± she says, pulling her head in for a hug, there¡¯s the sweet smell of perfume Tantra¡¯s grown so accustomed to over the years, mingling with the cherry incense of the office, she can hear how Farsa¡¯s heart beats against her ribs. Tantra lets herself sink into her embrace, feeling the tears she¡¯s been holding back for so long threatening to spill.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay Farsa,¡± Tantra says quietly, ¡°it¡¯s over now, I¡¯m home.¡±

    Farsa hugs Tantra tighter, ¡°you are¡±

    -

    The harem¡¯s court is a place of soft pillows and overwhelming incense, meant to both comfort and impress with the sheer amount of finaries decorating the walls, rugs, and cushions. It had been such a long time since she had seen it, such a long time since the sweet peach incense graced her sinuses.

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna catch you!¡± Tantra says playfully as she chases a toddler who just laughs and giggles as he runs away. Domar¡¯s grown, as is expected, but he¡¯s not so old that she can¡¯t insert herself as his sister like she feared when she first got to the sect. They make a mess of the Harem¡¯s court as they run around, Tantra¡¯s obviously holding back, he¡¯s barely three, what kind of monster would she be if she were to actually try?

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    The Harem just watches on, amused, as their home gets ransacked by two children.

    ¡°She¡¯s grown,¡± Aumt Temi laments.

    ¡°We always knew she would,¡± Farsa replies, ¡°we must have the Gods grace to have gotten to see her so early.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re going to need to prepare,¡±Jalia says exuberantly, ¡°This calls for celebration!¡±

    ¡°Look at the poor thing,¡± Kiki admonishes, ¡°you think it would be wise to parade her to the nobles with all those scars? She¡¯ll become a laughing stock.¡±

    Jalia deflates, ¡°we could go to Goruk¡¯s?¡±

    The rest of her mothers nod.

    ¡°Still we can¡¯t hide her away forever,¡± Farsa points out.

    Ral rubs at her chin and examines Tantra with a critical eye, ¡°we could commission a sleeve for her left arm.¡±

    ¡°What about her neck,¡± Kiki points out.

    Ral shrugs, ¡°the arm is ugly, but the neck adds a certain air of¡­danger? It would only be fitting if she were a little intimidating after spending so much time at a sect.¡±

    Aunt Temi claps, ¡°It¡¯s a plan then.¡±

    Temi cups her hands to her mouth, ¡°Tantra! Come here little jewel.¡±

    Tantra reluctantly stops the chase and walks over to her mothers as they drape themselves over cushions.

    ¡°I¡¯m not little, Aunt Temi,¡± Tantra grumbles.

    The woman just chuckles, ¡°even if you were immortal, you¡¯ll always be my little jewel.¡±

    Tantra blushes and looks down.

    Kiki coughs into her hand, ¡°we were just discussing what to do about the scars.¡±

    Tantra deflates.

    The rest of her mothers glare at Kiki.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t exercise even a little tact Kiki,¡± Ral admonishes.

    Kiki scrunches her brow at the woman, ¡°I only said the truth.¡±

    ¡°In the bluntest way possible,¡± Jalia says.

    Kiki grumbles, and Ral rolls her eyes.

    ¡°Anyway, what this buffoon-¡± Kiki glares at Ral ¡°-was trying to say was that we have a little idea, we just need your robe for a little while.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°what are you going to do with it?¡±

    ¡°Send it to the tailor.¡±

    ¡°Mother, this robe has three array scripts woven into it.¡±

    She waves her off, ¡°that won¡¯t present an issue, think of it as a gift for the birthdays we¡¯ve missed.¡±

    Tantra raises her arms at them, ¡°that wasn¡¯t your fault, I could hardly expect you to come to the sect just for my birthday.¡±

    ¡°Oh stop being stubborn and let us do this for you,¡± Farsa says.

    Tantra grumbles in acquiescence.

    -

    Tantra checks a kick from Kisrin, blocking the jabs that follow. He throws out a cross and Tantra almost falls for the feint, but she notices the shift in musculature just before he would strike. It¡¯s barely enough time to block the elbow coming for her chin, and in that time Kisrin has tackled her to the ground. He starts to rain down blows on her as she covers her face, then, during one of the openings, she throws a straight at the side of his missing eye, creating just a moment for Tantra to capitalize on.

    Capitalize she does, as she pulls Kisrin down by his hair, she starts to elbow his temple until he goes limp. Tantra huffs, pushes the boy off her and gets up to the cheers of Yorin.

    ¡°Ha! You owe me a gold Etra.¡± He says with barely concealed joy.

    ¡°How? You¡¯re weak as fuck without¡­¡± Etra grumbles as she can¡¯t finish the sentence, the walls have ears after all.

    Tantra barks a laugh, ¡°you should stop underestimating me honourable Etra! I¡¯m no longer your punching bag.¡±

    Etra scoots off of her seat, ¡°yeah? We¡¯ll see about that.¡±

    Tantra smiles a wicked smile as she raises her arms and gets ready to fight.

    Through all of this, Jalia is just staring in horror at the unconscious Kisrin, then at Tantra, then back at Kisrin

    -

    What does Tantra plan to do if everything goes according to plan?

    Kill her sibling? A part of her hopes it was someone else, maybe one of the nobles, but that borders on the impossible. Only the Great Houses would have that kind of authority, and none of them give a single shit about Tantra. So, she¡¯s going to kill her sibling.

    Can she do that? She¡¯s killed once, and helped with another, but one was an instance of rage and the other desperation. Neither with a clear head, and neither planned. Yet here she is playing judge, jury, and soon, executioner.

    But they killed Rakan, the embers of rage says, he deserves vengeance.

    He does, but can she do it?

 Ch.65:Family, Meet Friends!

    Erick doesn¡¯t understand a lot, he knows this.

    He doesn¡¯t understand why pa died, or why ma starved herself to keep him fed. He doesn¡¯t understand how people he¡¯s lived with for so long could turn to cruelty so quickly, and he doesn¡¯t understand why Rakan died.

    But that¡¯s okay, because Tantra said it was okay.

    So it¡¯s okay.

    There¡¯s a part of him that screams that it¡¯s not okay, that the world shouldn¡¯t be so complicated, but he shuts that part up because it¡¯s weak and stupid. He doesn¡¯t take advice from things that are weak and stupid.

    Weak? Maybe.

    Stupid? Sure.

    But both together? That¡¯s just asking for bad outcomes, so he accepts the world for what it is and moves on. He has to move on, he can only move on. If he stays still he¡¯ll die, just like pa, just like ma, just like Rak-

    ¡°Oh aren¡¯t you just so precious,¡± A woman he thinks is named Jalia coo¡¯s at him, ¡°don¡¯t you think Farsa, isn¡¯t he just a treat?¡±

    What?

    ¡°Stop with your nonsense,¡± Farsa chuckles, ¡°you¡¯re confusing the poor boy.¡±

    ¡°But the Toga just fits so well over his tunic! All we need is to fix up that hair, get some proper jewellery, and find a suitable perfume (something strong!) and he¡¯ll be a proper young master!¡±

    ¡°Young master?¡± Erick tilts his head.

    This was clearly the wrong course of action as the woman went to attack him by pulling at his cheek.

    ¡°Yes, you sweet little thing, we¡¯re going to turn you into the handsomest boy in Ralth.¡±

    Erick, for all his¡­almost seven? He doesn¡¯t know, let¡¯s just say seven. For all his seven years of wisdom, he doesn¡¯t know how to handle whatever is happening to him right now. Should he be happy or scared?

    ¡°You always go for the gaudy look,¡± Farsa shakes her head, ¡°what he needs is the subtle touch, an earring, some makeup to cover the paleness of his skin, and perhaps a dash of eyeshadow¡±

    Erick just looks between them in confusion as Jalia pouts.

    ¡°Fineeee, you know best.¡±

    ¡°Of course I do.¡±

    -

    Kisrin never learned how to read maps, and the same can be said of most disciples of the Serpent¡¯s Fang. What¡¯s the use of understanding geographic locations when not too long ago you were a simple peasant who couldn¡¯t leave the bounds of their own village without permission from their lord? Instead he knows quite a bit about crop rotations, tilling the fields, and how to haggle at the market.

    All skills that are generally useless now, all things considered.

    The spike of pain digs deep, as it always does.

    But that¡¯s okay, they deserve to be remembered, even if it hurts.

    ¡°Now,¡± Kiki says, ¡°can you tell me why the coastal cities are the richest in Rikidan?¡±

    Kisrin wracks his brain, ¡°because all the big merchant clans can be found there?¡±

    Kiki clicks her tongue, ¡°incorrect, that¡¯s a side effect of their prosperity, not the cause. No, these cities are the arteries of trade, all because of their location. Water vessels can travel fast and far, and don¡¯t require the need to navigate through arduous terrain or contend with spirit beasts.¡±

    ¡°So they get used as gathering points?¡±

    ¡°Exactly, talk to Temi, and you¡¯ll find out what happens to countries that don¡¯t have easy access to a body of water, very few prosper. It¡¯s also why cities like Vastha are so rich.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s Vastha?¡±

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    Kiki sighs, ¡°I forgot about your peasant upbringing for a moment, we can talk about Vastha when we get to international trade routes.¡±

    -

    The halls in the Sol mansion are tranquil, almost sedated even. Excitement doesn¡¯t exist here, only functional order and proper decorum. Forn has spent three decades as a guard for this place, and he¡¯s long learned to appreciate the silence. It¡¯s different from the clamour of the markets, or the contained violence of the crowds. Like a painting, perfect in its subtlety, and ostentatious in its presentation.

    So he was extremely surprised when he found mistress Ral chasing a girl with short brown hair in cultivators'' robes.

    ¡°Get back here!¡± She bellows.

    ¡°Stay away from me you crazy bitch!¡± The girl screams back

    ¡°I will scrape that tongue raw of your deplorable mannerisms! You will learn to speak properly, ingrate!¡±

    ¡°Fuck you! I¡¯d kick your ass if you weren¡¯t Tantra¡¯s mom.¡±

    ¡°Kick your derriere.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Say it!¡±

    ¡°No!¡±

    -

    History isn¡¯t a subject he¡¯s familiar with beyond bards tales, so he thought it would be cool, and while it is interesting, it¡¯s mostly exhausting. Why are there so many names who did so many things, with most of those things being boring shit, like tax law, or really weird shit, like enforcing Sunday as national cultivators day. That got reversed pretty fast after that particular emperor suffered an unfortunate case of severe stabbings.

    It¡¯s actually really interesting, besides Jorick Theokal, none of the emperors were immortal, all being in some stage of cultivation that solidifies they still have a finite lifespan. Technically if you keep digging your roots you could live forever, it just takes more time then you¡¯d have to do, although those who¡¯ve anchored tend to live for a much longer amount of time, according to what he learned at the sect at least.

    So the oldest emperor besides Jorick was getting close to five centuries.

    Died of a stroke.

    Yorin doesn¡¯t know what a stroke is but he laments that particular emperor''s death all the same, according to Temi, he was rather benevolent.

    ¡°Now, Girth Rikid, through the pressure of the senate, had to relinquish his throne to his son, Gorth Rikid. This solidified the senate''s desire to expand Rikidan, and over the next century the empire grew to twice its size to encompass the territories we are familiar with today, though Gorth had¡­unpopular methods¡±

    ¡°What kind of methods.¡±

    ¡°The kind that aren¡¯t very appropriate to discuss with children.¡±

    Yorin scrunches his brow, ¡°I¡¯ve probably seen worse than you lady.¡±

    Temi chuckles, ¡°you probably have, but Gorth was called the emperor of anguish for a reason, and many of his exploits are much worse than anything you could imagine.¡±

    -

    Tantra is making a ball float out of frustration.

    Combing through the contracts has been¡­frustrating. The sheer volume of things she has to review is simply staggering, what with the Jade Sol being one of the greater merchant clans. Dozen is extremely proud of her, which she doesn¡¯t find annoying at all. But she has been¡­enjoying the work, if only slightly.

    She¡¯d be enjoying it much more if she was actually auditing and not searching for a specific contract. It taints the experience!

    So, Tantra¡¯s taking a break by making a ball float.

    The separation between it and her palm is not impressive, but it is floating, which is proof enough of her efforts.

    Intention is¡­strange.

    The simple component, willpower, is the fuel for bending reality to your desires. It is, essentially, how much effort you can put into the task in the first place.

    Then there¡¯s the communication with reality¡­which is where things rapidly turn confusing. You see, when you make a ball float, for example, you¡¯re not really the one making it float. Reality is.

    It¡¯s kind of like a conversation, or debate where you try to convince the laws of the universe that actually, your desires are how it should act, not the primordial systems that have governed it for so long, and this works. The more conversations you have, the easier it is to convince.

    Then, last but not least, is the concept.

    This is how you define your desire, do you want to make fire, or do you want to replicate the conditions that would make a fire? One of those is near impossible without a dao, while the other even Tantra can do. For example, to float the ball, she isn¡¯t telling reality to make it float, she¡¯s telling it to separate from her palm, which coincidentally makes it float. It¡¯s somewhat cheating, but how you phrase your desires is the most important factor.

    It determines how much Qi you end up using.

    Which also means that if you want to make a certain effect more efficient you need to study, the bane of all cultivators, but something Tantra¡¯s not really averse to.

    She¡¯s already ordered a few books on the heart and biology, for the technique she¡¯s been theory-crafting.

    Her door bursts open and Tantra loses her concentration, making the ball fall into her palm.

    ¡°My lady!¡± says the exuberant voice of a young woman, ¡°you truly have returned! Oh, wow, they did not exaggerate about the scars.¡±

    ¡°Thanks Alia,¡± Tantra says blandly.

    ¡°No worries my lady, you can always count on me to tell you the hurtful truths,¡± She nods dutifully.

    Tantra rolls her eyes, but has to suppress the urge to smile.

 Ch.66:Schemes And A Duck

    Tikor is pacing.

    It¡¯s a meditative exercise, helps him organize his thoughts when things don¡¯t make sense. The Falcon twins weren¡¯t some second rate fodder, they were anchored, a realm almost no cultivator attains. Yet here Tantra stands, distinctly alive.

    How?

    He reviewed the census for their sect, there was no inner disciple by the name of ¡®Rakan¡¯, so how did they survive what should in all respects be considered a death sentence? That¡¯s not even the worst part, according to one of his birdies, she¡¯s in purification.

    A joke, that¡¯s what this all is, simply a joke and he¡¯s the butt end of it.

    Tantra¡¯s a spiritual cripple, it¡¯s a miracle she can even walk, let alone cultivate. That¡¯s like¡­like if the GodBeasts left their foci, not technically impossible, it just never happens. Yet here she stands, scars and all in her fancy new robes to demolish everything he¡¯s built.

    The contract is there, and he doesn¡¯t have a good reason to stop her from looking, that would be tantamount to admitting guilt.

    What will Dozen do, he wonders, once he finds out he commissioned cultivators to kill the family''s little girl wonder? Will he send him to one of the minor routes only apprentices get? Or maybe his engagement will be annulled, perhaps he¡¯ll lose his inheritance.

    Perhaps all three.

    All because one girl refused to die.

    This cannot stand.

    -

    Zon is delighted by the meal in front of him.

    A simple bowl of ramen, well seasoned and ready for consumption. The ruby of his eyes gleam in delight as he gives a slight smile of contentment. Few places can reach the heights of his homeland in the culinary arts, Goruk¡¯s is one of them. That¡¯s not really the establishment''s name, but anyone with a history here calls it that, considering how likely it is for you to actually converse with the head chef. Some find it annoying, Zon considers it to be a compliment to the experience.

    Ghoruk is one of the few not intimidated by cultivators, which, if he ever left Ralth would surely result in him losing his head, but he¡¯s probably received that threat to know well enough that leaving the city is a bad idea.

    But his straightforwardness is something Zon finds endearing, like how a cat might knead a blanket, or a terrorclaw might try to nibble on your bones. All quite cute in retrospect.

    He takes a nice whiff of his meal and gets to work, slow and practiced, to elevate the act of consumption from something banal to a thing of artistry. Every motion well practiced, every hum of satisfaction timed to perfection, and slow, small bites to prolong the experience. If one were to watch Zon, they would think he was trying to woo someone, but this is just how he eats, as is only proper.

    He slowly sips the broth from his spoon, taking in the delicate flavour and slight hint of spice.

    He lets out a sigh of contentment as he finishes his meal.

    Then he turns to the man who¡¯s been waiting patiently by his side.

    ¡°Truly a magnificent meal Goruk, it gets better every time it graces my tongue.¡± Says the delicate melody of a vibrating blade.

    Goruk''s smile is wide, ¡°always the flatterer, eh, master Zon?¡±

    ¡°It is only proper to praise the chef of such a fine meal.¡±

    ¡°A lot of my patrons would disagree.¡±

    ¡°Then they lack the integral organ many categorize as ¡®the brain¡¯¡±

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    Goruk lets out a boisterous laugh, ¡°careful, I don¡¯t want a duel in my restaurant.¡±

    ¡°No worries Goruk, I wouldn¡¯t do something so beneath me.¡±

    ¡°Good, good. Unfortunate that I came here for something other than pleasant conversation.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°I was wondering if you could do me a little favour.¡±

    Zon considers him, ¡°that won¡¯t be free.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll get free ramen for the rest of your life at my establishment, I¡¯ll even write a contract so that the ungrateful brats I call children will honour it after I¡¯ve passed.¡±

    ¡°Well, that does change things.¡±

    -

    Tantra takes a deep breath.

    She only needs half as much sleep as a normal mortal, a consequence of progressing in foundation. She can¡¯t exactly go out and continue auditing the contracts in the middle of the night, that would definitively ruin her plan of pretending to pretend, so instead she meditates on her bed.

    Switching between threading and gathering depending on the day.

    She¡¯s still supercharging her foundations, pulling a stream of Qi into her heart to flow through her blood, and she needs a lot of Qi quickly to manage such an endeavor.

    So she keeps going with her brand of gathering, it¡¯s an insult to finesse and delicacy, but it works wonders.

    She can practically grab all of the Qi that enters her lungs, and all she has to do is strain her soul. Sure, there¡¯s probably a reason cultivators don¡¯t teach this method of gathering, everything has a price after all, but it¡¯s not like she has a choice. The rate at which her soul''s grown can¡¯t overcome the sheer distance between it and her core, so she has to make a few concessions.

    She¡¯s pretty sure she even knows what those concessions are.

    More and more it¡¯s getting easier to bully her way into gathering Qi, perhaps it could be waved away as familiarity but it¡¯s simply too fast. Then the catch snagged when she tried to gather the ordinary way, it was significantly harder.

    Tantra theorizes that her will is changing somehow. How will this affect everything else, considering will is integral to techniques? She has no idea.

    But it¡¯s not like she¡¯s gonna switch now, she needs the Qi.

    So she¡¯ll find out if that was a good or bad idea later.

    She breathes out through her nose, then lets another in through her mouth.

    Her meridians are coming along, slowly. It takes a twentieth of her core being filled with soul Qi to cleanse a minor one now, and considering it gets harder the more you cleanse, her core has grown significantly from where it started. She kind of wonders how flush with soul Qi anchored souls must be to keep up with the core, it must be insane.

    With her paltry offerings she¡¯s only been capable of cleansing thirty meridians, she¡¯s debated if she has enough space to store the Qi needed to cleanse a major one in one go. The thing with taint is that it replicates, creating more of itself, and most cultivators chip away slowly, beating the rate of multiplication through a marathon. She doesn¡¯t have this option, her soul delivers too slowly, so she has to do it all in one go.

    To even store enough Qi for such an endeavor she might need to wait a full year, possibly longer, to even have a chance at cleansing a major meridian. Which is not something she¡¯s willing to do, that¡¯s too much time for a meager investment.

    Her control¡¯s already good enough where she rivals the meridians in boosting efficiency, and it¡¯s not like she¡¯s ever actually going to anchor, so what¡¯s the point?

    She takes another breath.

    -

    What is it to be a duck?

    Ever since Dok got his name he¡¯s been contemplating this conundrum, how does he be a good duck, the best duck ever? There are a multitude of answers, soar through the sky like¡­well he doesn¡¯t know but the metaphors are in there somewhere. Or he could mate until his progeny takes over the world!

    Highly unlikely that one.

    So, Dok has decided by process of elimination, that being a good duck is to be a menace.

    He waits under the table for the giver of grapes to come within striking distance, he can¡¯t see her, not with his eyes. But he can with his mind, as a good duck should.

    So, as she takes the steps to her doom, Dok prepares to springboard.

    As soon as she¡¯s within range he launches himself, letting out a grand honk as his warcry. The grape giver yelps with surprise as he collides with her, and he can hear her fall to the floor, spilling her food everywhere.

    The black eyed one wheezes, ¡°Ranya can¡¯t believe you couldn¡¯t see him.¡±

    ¡°Screw you Ranya, and screw you too Dok¡±

    Dok honks at her.

    ¡°Sometimes I feel like he can understand us,¡± The¡­unremarkable one says?

    Dok honks at her to confirm that yes, he can in fact understand them, and that they should stop acting like he¡¯s stupid.

    She coos at him like he¡¯s stupid.

    He flies and stomps on her face.

 Ch.67:Tea Time

    It is crying.

    Three beings of chrome and silver surround it, holding shackles of searing obsidian as the thing slowly donates the tears from its eyes to the screaming river below. There are so many drowning in its currents, trapped in the waves of suffering. It can feel their pain, feel the gnashing of teeth as they demand JUSTICE, the agony coming to suffuse itself here into a concentrated point of suffering for no discernible purpose but to torture each other with their screams.

    At the edges, grey things of malformed limbs sup from the waters as though it were precious ambrosia, too lost in their drunkenness to notice the parasites feeding off their emaciated forms. Little things of many legs and sharp mandibles, digging through them slowly as they start reaching for the grey things'' hearts, hoping for just a piece.

    Other than the river, it is barren here, more things of grey shuffling through grass that cuts, howling with agony as their only language. Little babes who understand nothing, but they will, eventually.

    That is what it means to grow, and oh how they grow. Each ascension transforms them into something horrific yet profound, a microcosm of everything wrong with the world, a product of something broken. It has been made a witness to these transformations, this isn¡¯t the only river the things of chrome and silver have taken it too after all.

    It¡¯s been to the upper layers, where the things of grey learn hunger, turning into ravenous beasts that chew on the entrails of their brothers.

    It has seen the red sands where rage is the only true companion that can be found, leading to the bashing of skulls and tearing of limbs.

    Finally, it bore witness to the face fear gives the grey ones in the silent forest, where they hide and scurry from things that are impossible.

    Unfortunately it''s tears aren¡¯t so valuable that it would have the chance to be brought higher, but it can only assume that the suffering experienced in their birthplace supersedes all as it does with the layers it has seen.

    It wonders, what is the purpose of its home? It doesn¡¯t follow the logic that confines the WORLD, it would know, it has seen it. It¡¯s like¡­like a filter maybe? No, it serves a greater purpose than just that but it can¡¯t guess what that might be.

    It is fine, its purpose is not to know, it is to cry.

    And so it does, adding to the river.

    -

    Tantra takes a sip of her tea, it is a delectable thing of chamomile, sourced from the Rondevie Grasslands and ground down for her personal delight. She lets out a sigh of contentment, luxuriating in the delicacy of such a masterfully prepared beverage. It¡¯s unfortunately the only good thing that comes from these gatherings

    ¡°Why, it is simply a delight to see you again Tantra,¡± a red haired girl says with a hint of something Tantra can¡¯t exactly identify but assumes to be scornful.

    That¡¯s usually in line with their general feelings about her.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± a girl with violet hair says, she wears the distinct toga of house Urath, ¡°It has been a desolate thing to hold these meetings without your presence.¡±

    ¡°A thousand gratitudes Lady Synthia,¡± Tantra says as she bows deep to the marquis''s daughter. Synthia simply nods to her as though the gratitude were a matter of course, Tantra can barely muster the willpower not to roll her eyes.

    Her time at the sect has made her¡­less prepared for these decorative gatherings of social status. She had hoped this would at least wait until her linen robes are done with the tailors, but no, Ral had to get her a toga appropriate for the occasion.

    ¡°Where were you?¡± A girl with hair of green asks, ¡°your siblings weren¡¯t very forthcoming about your location.¡±

    Tantra¡¯s brow twitches.

    Why would you want to know where I was, all her being desires to say, but instead she takes another sip of her tea, swishing the scalding substance around in her mouth. While Qi might not make things stronger inherently it does make them more durable, so what should have burned her instead is only a mild nuisance.

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    She swallows, and makes a token appear out of thin air to the gasps of the ladies present.

    ¡°I was sent to a humble sect called the Serpent¡¯s Fang,¡± she says, ¡°to train.¡±

    ¡°As a cultivator?¡± a brunette says with no small amount of derision, ¡°why on earth would you want to be like those brutes?¡±

    The cultivator currently presiding over the tea party, all lackadaisical in his seat a few tables away cracks one eye open and stares at Tantra, he grunts and goes back to sleep.

    ¡°It was not my choice,¡± Tantra says carefully, ¡°it was the choice of my father.¡±

    There are a few ¡®ooh¡¯s of actual understanding that come from the collection of overly dressed and perfumed fools.

    Tantra holds back the urge to groan.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you have to renounce your¡­hmmm well you don¡¯t have a title, inheritance then?¡± The blue haired girl says.

    Synthia waves her off, ¡°merchants function under different rules, they have no oath to the empire, so they don¡¯t need to follow the same rules as we, though I haven¡¯t ever heard of a merchant cultivator before.¡±

    Synthia taps her chin in contemplation and shrugs.

    ¡°Well, it isn¡¯t as though it matters, since you aren''t a cultivator¡±

    -

    Yorin skips down the halls of one very impressive mansion.

    He¡¯s never been to a mansion before, but he has to say, this is definitely up there for presentation. Only the emperor''s could be grander! Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration, but still, this place is ridiculously big. The field at the centre is bigger than the training field they have at the sect! And that¡¯s supposed to accommodate hundreds!

    Absolutely ridiculous.

    But he doesn¡¯t really think that¡¯s a good thing, when Tantra came to the sect, she was easily the weakest of them all. It was only through her own effort and apparently control that she pushed her way to foundation so early.

    Still, If she doesn¡¯t boost, she isn¡¯t all that strong.

    For a farmer? Sure.

    For a cultivator? Not at all.

    He¡¯s fairly certain her lacking strength came from this place of¡­what was the word?

    Deca-something.

    There¡¯s also a lot of shit that just doesn¡¯t make sense. Merchants are supposed to be stringent with their coins, at least that¡¯s the impression he got from Tantra, although watching her have a breakdown at the first village when they gave them everything for free was pretty funny. Yorin thinks she likes to haggle more than actually saving coins.

    Now, the hall he¡¯s skipping down is the opposite of fiscally responsible.

    They use lamps of pure gold, and adorn it with blueflame.

    Just one of those would cost more than his whole village, and there are thousands packed into the mansion like they couldn¡¯t care less about all the massive amount of coin they¡¯re losing. That¡¯s just the tip of the iceberg though, the bedsheets? Made from the silk of a divine beast, each and every room that houses members of the family or guests.

    How did they even get their hands on something like that?

    Why even bother?

    Sure it¡¯s nice but not nice enough to justify its surely stupid high-

    As he rounds a corner, someone crashes into his chest, falling flat on their ass.

    He, meanwhile, is completely unfazed.

    ¡°A thousand apologies!¡± Yorin says as he stretches out his hand to the girl.

    The girl turns to look at Yorin with a scowl, only for shock to color her features.

    ¡°You!¡±

    Yorin blinks at her and points to himself, ¡°me?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re one of my sister''s new friends!¡± she exclaims as though it were an accusation.

    Yorin doesn¡¯t really know how to respond to that, ¡°yes?¡±

    She gets up without his help and brushes off her Toga as though the rug contained any dirt or dust to stain it. Honestly, the cleanliness of this place is almost nauseating.

    Her ocean blue eyes turn to pierce through Yorin as she considers him, she puts a hand on her chin and examines the boy, walking circles around him for the sake of being thorough.

    She crosses her arms in front of Yorin and harrumphs.

    ¡°Know this plebeian! The Jade Sol will not accept just anyone into their ranks, if you wish to court my sister you must prove yourself first!¡±

    Yorin blinks, ¡°I¡­don¡¯t want to though.¡±

    The girl waves him off, ¡°nonsense, Tantra is on her way to becoming a jade beauty, you¡¯d be blind not to aim for her.¡±

    ¡°I prefer her as a friend.¡±

    She pats his shoulder, ¡°I see, you are simply intimidated by her beauty, worry not plebian! This Tosa Sol will instruct you in the arts of wooing the ladies.¡±

    ¡°But¡­but I don¡¯t want to,¡± Yorin begs.

    ¡°Hmmm, maybe I should aid the one with the missing eye then?¡± she says with the subtle hint of a threat.

    A light illuminates in his mind as Yorin grasps onto an idea, the radiant smile he makes takes Tosa aback.

    ¡°Yes!¡± he exclaims happily, ¡°that might just work!¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Tosa asks dumbly.

 Ch.68:Sometimes There Are No Good Options

    Pain isn¡¯t something ever present.

    There are moments, here and there, where he can feel something resembling a positive emotion. Excitement, amusement, maybe even a moment of genuine happiness. It¡¯s hard not to when his friends are so invested in how he¡¯s doing, to a degree where it can get annoying, but a good kind of annoying.

    Knowing he¡¯s not alone¡­helps, more than they could possibly imagine.

    But the pain is still there more often than it isn¡¯t.

    A deep gouge into his soul, like a daemon¡¯s settled and made it its home.

    So he takes that pain and channels it into something useful.

    Another thrust of his spear cuts through the air, with well practiced form and steady footing, just as he was taught back in the sect. Bringing it back to a neutral stance, he relaxes and tenses his muscles for another strike. He¡¯s been at it for most of the day, ignoring how his body screams, using the pain to sharpen his mind into something that can push through the folly of physical concerns. He needs to get better at fighting, he can¡¯t spar with his weapon, not until he completes his foundations, so instead all he has is the empty air, and some bouts with training weapons.

    Tantra and Etra can¡¯t really go all out because their weapons are all about blunt force, so switching it to wood doesn¡¯t really change much for their lethality. But he appreciates their participation nonetheless, Tantra especially since she can take a serious beating without even flinching.

    Truly the wonders of Qi.

    Soon he¡¯ll be the same, what with that strange blood boosting technique, then he can actually do something. Tantra is the weakest in martial forms but she is¡­tenacious, add to that a cultivators constitution and you get quite the ferocious fighter. Kisrin prefers skill over ferocity but he can¡¯t deny that it works. It''s also kind of a funny juxtaposition considering her personality.

    ¡°Kisrin!¡± a familiar voice yells out as they run to him across the field.

    Kisrin turns with a bemused smile as Yorin drags along a girl that could rival him in height, with long auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks, if anything, extremely confused.

    Kisrin chuckles, he can tell she¡¯s one of the Sol¡¯s, what with her formal toga, pristine tunic, and the gaudy jewellery.

    Seeing Tantra dressed like that did things for his heart, but this girl just looks like she¡¯s trying too hard.

    ¡°Yes?¡± He asks as Yorin finally reaches him, the girl gasping for breath, hands on her knees and struggling to let out a few curses that Kisrin decidedly chooses not to laugh at, for the sake of propriety.

    ¡°This is Tosa Sol!¡± Yorin says exuberantly displaying her with both arms.

    ¡°Not¡­your¡­place¡­to¡­introduce¡­me¡­brute¡± She says between gulps of air.

    Yorin waves her off, ¡°you can barely talk, if you worked on your cardio maybe I wouldn¡¯t have to.¡±

    Tosa grumbles her dissatisfaction as Kisrin just continues to stare at both of them.

    ¡°So?¡± Kisrin asks, ¡°why did you drag her out here?¡±

    ¡°Right!¡± Yorin says excitedly, ¡°she¡¯s going to teach you how to woo Tantra!¡±

    Kisrin blinks, ¡°what?¡±

    -

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Etra''s done a lot for her age.

    She''s seen horrors and fought things that are beyond her measly strength. She has, over and over, been reminded by how easy it is to die in this world of blood and violence. No matter their strength.

    She was responsible for one after all, Rakan would still be alive if she were stronger, if she were better.

    So she¡¯s been threading, and threading a lot, it¡¯s practically all she does these days. If this was how Tantra got to foundation so quickly she¡¯ll push through no matter how much her soul wants her to stop.

    She¡¯s been losing sleep, and a lot of it too, just focused on the act of making a rope with two threads of Qi. She used to take this exercise with a more laid back attitude, sure, it¡¯ll get her to foundation quicker, but why rush the process?

    She has plenty of reasons to rush the process now.

    Still, she goes for too long, sometimes going days without sleep, just focused on threading. The constant abuse is doing something to her soul, straining it in a way that¡¯s difficult to describe. Like stretching, but with a crushing kind of pressure, like it''s being¡­flattened out? Except in a line rather than uniformly?

    It¡¯s not whatever Tantra describes when she pushes beyond the limits of her soul, that involves a lot more blood, and Etra isn¡¯t bleeding.

    So it¡¯s different.

    How is it different? Well, she doesn¡¯t really care to find out.

    She just needs to keep with the exercise.

    Pushing and pushing, until eventually, she can be a real fucking cultivator and can actually help for once. If they were all in foundation, she wonders, would Rakan still be alive?

    Who knows, she certainly doesn¡¯t, but she refuses to be placed in a situation where she¡¯s that helpless again.

    Where she can do nothing.

    No.

    Not ever again.

    -

    Through the exchange of common imperial mint, the cultivators who have signed are bound by honour and blood to fulfill their purpose:

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Elimination of an imposter claiming to be of Sol heritage.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Delivery of the imposter to the Sol estate for confirmation of duties done.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Maintaining utmost secrecy as per the imperial oath of contracts dictates</li>

    </ul>

    Signed:Tikor Sol

    Tantra stares at the contract, there¡¯s a lot of legal jargon but the only portion she really cares about is the purpose. It¡¯s short, most contracts have a thousand and one failsafes preventing a sort of loophole for the cultivator. Tikor didn¡¯t seem all too worried about that it seems, only giving three directives. It¡¯s kind of insulting how little effort he put into trying to have her killed, and how cheap the price was.

    A hundred gold?

    Rakan died over one hundred measly gold?

    The rage simmers, as it always seems to do these days, but this time it doesn¡¯t calm, nor does she want it to. It boils progressively hotter as she reads and re-reads the contract over and over again, trying to make some sort of sense of this.

    Tikor is the second eldest behind Dozen. They''ve talked, occasionally, but she gets the distinct impression that the man doesn¡¯t like children very much, so they¡¯re not really close. Which¡¯ll make what she needs to do easier, much easier in fact.

    How convenient.

    She was worried someone like Ralah or Terok would have been the ones to do it, close as they may be; those two are dedicated to coin, and her death would certainly make them quite a bit once her inheritance is distributed.

    That gets to the last and most pressing matter, what was the motive? Tikor is already rich beyond belief, being the second son he¡¯s had plenty of time to carve out his own little empire, and he has easily the most political influence of the family, what with being engaged to Arith Farlagh. Wouldn¡¯t it make more sense to target Dozen, instead of having to send petty assassins to someone so far down the line of succession she might as well not be on it?

    How does she make this make sense?

    Maybe she should ask him.

    No, that would ruin her plans, would ruin them quite dramatically.

    She could just show this contract to Dozen and explain what happened, surely there would be some form of punishment, but would it be enough?

    No, the way she sees it, he¡¯ll be living a life of plenty so long as he¡¯s alive, and that kind of vengeance would just be hollow.

    Tantra stares at the contract with a grim kind of determination.

    There¡¯s only one solution.

 Ch.69:The Joys Of Paperwork

    Tantra keeps to her routine, switching between training, socializing, and perusing the contracts. Now that she¡¯s actually auditing them she¡¯s been having much more fun, most of them are guard contracts, for caravans and the estate, but there are a few interesting ones amongst the pile.

    Like the one about taming a razarak. Tantra doesn¡¯t know what Uthurn wants with an oversized death lizard, but it¡¯s still active, so the poor cultivator assigned to this job is either very dead or about to be. Still the amount of gold is impressive, five thousand? That¡¯s almost as much as father paid to have her placed in the Serpent¡¯s Fang!

    She put that contract into her ¡®under review¡¯ pile for closer examination, and can never tell what tidbits you can miss with all that legalise jumbling up all the words. There are a few others, like one about finding a ¡®suitable concubine¡¯ with a ridiculous amount of details that no mortal woman can surely possess. She''s going to have to talk to Yikir about that one, if only to beat some sense into him.

    There¡¯s also a longstanding contract just for the collection of ammolite. Sure the jewels are impressive but isn¡¯t it a bit much to have an indefinite contract over them? Especially considering how far into barbarian territory the Jewelers Caverns is.

    A lot of this is just her siblings'' frivolous fancies, burning a small hole into the Jade Sole¡¯s finances. Sure, it¡¯s not that much in the grand scheme of things but it¡¯s the principal of the thing! A merchant simply doesn¡¯t throw coins at whatever they fancy, no matter how bloated with wealth they are.

    Especially not at these prices!

    Truly they have embraced decadence in the time after their father¡¯s passing.

    She¡¯s kind of surprised Dozen is letting them get away with it but he does seem to be absolutely swamped so maybe they''re just taking advantage of the fact that they don¡¯t need direct permission from the head to issue contracts anymore.

    At least for now.

    Once Tantra shows him these she has a feeling that¡¯ll change.

    But no one will have to know it was her! Well, they definitely will but that¡¯s fine, all''s fair in the pursuit of saving coin.

    Tantra is extremely focused on the contract in front of her, so she doesn¡¯t realize Alia is in the room until another stack of contracts thumps onto her desk.

    Tantra blinks, then looks up at the woman.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you go to sleep?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s morning my lady,¡± Alia says blandly.

    ¡°Is it?¡±

    ¡°Indeed, your internal clock must be thoroughly destroyed.¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°and you got me more contracts?¡±

    ¡°You would have asked for more anyway, I was just getting it out of the way.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have done that,¡± Tantra grumbles

    ¡°Puh-lease, I¡¯ve known you since you were a toddler, I¡¯m honestly surprised it took a week for you to fully get back in the habit of neglecting your health.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not that bad.¡±

    ¡°My lady, you¡¯d be as skinny as Dozen if it weren¡¯t for me. Speaking of, what would you like for breakfast?¡±

    ¡°Noodles,¡±

    ¡°I said breakfast.¡±

    ¡°Sausage and eggs, with rice,¡± Tantra grumbles.

    -

    Depending on the district, navigating through Ralth is a lot like navigating through a battlefield. Narrow streets and tight corners filled to the brim with clusters of humanity, the crowd becoming an amalgamation of chaos and curses.

    It¡¯s the lifeblood of the city, traveling through arteries and veins, spending precious coins on both the necessary and frivolous. Ralth¡¯s prosperity comes from its propensity for trade, the northern cities depend on the routes leading to Ralth for access to the international market, and Ralth depends on those cities for resources to trade.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    It¡¯s a middleman, and being that middleman has made it ridiculously rich, which consequently leads to a population that numbers in the millions. That number needs significantly more space than the city offers to travel comfortably, unless you were in a carriage, people usually make way for those.

    Not for cultivators though, see, Ralth isn¡¯t like most cities, it has a Sentinel. One of the emperor''s hands came down from their pedestal in Goroka to grace the world with some order. A cultivator isn¡¯t above the law here, and any who wish to say otherwise tend to be dealt with rather swiftly. Which does place an asterisk by her plan, but she just needs proof Tikor was trying to kill her and everything will be fine.

    Definitely not, but is she just going to ignore this? No, she can¡¯t. It wouldn¡¯t be right.

    So, as she pushes through the crowd of people with konob¨­ in hand, she hardens her heart, preparing for the inevitable.

    Eventually she makes it to her destination, a rather quaint alchemy shop, but one that the Jade Sol has had many dealings with due to the sheer skill of the proprietor. When she reaches the counter she rings a bell, waiting patiently as someone grumbles in the background before footsteps approach from the back.

    ¡°What do you want?¡± Says a man in robes of ruby red with a white trim, there¡¯s a token of swirling red pinned to his chest.

    ¡°Greetings honoured alchemist,¡± Tantra bows, ¡°this one was hoping you could lighten her burden. This one has plenty of specimens from the DarkWoods for your perusal.¡±

    He squints at her, ¡°you¡¯re too formal for being so young, and the DarkWoods is far, you know I¡¯ll be able to tell if you''re selling me phonies right?¡±

    ¡°Of course! This one wouldn¡¯t dare to think she could fool one such as you.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± he shrugs then waves at the counter.

    Tantra smiles and pulls out a bag''s worth of lifecaps, presenting them to the man with the practiced smile of a saleswoman.

    The alchemist''s eye actually widens slightly at the sight, but he gives no other reaction as they stare at each other in silence.

    ¡°Ten gold,¡± He says simply.

    Tantra fights back the urge to widen her smile, ¡°please honoured one, I did not insult your intelligence with fake product, do not insult mine with such meager offerings.¡±

    ¡°Fifteen¡±

    ¡°Thirty¡±

    ¡°Are you insane girl? I¡¯m not buying it for thirty!¡±

    Tantra can¡¯t laugh right now, it wouldn¡¯t be proper, but it is difficult to hold it back. ¡°Forty¡± She says.

    His eyebrows raise to the top of his skull, ¡°forty?¡±

    ¡°Soon that number will rise to fifty, or should I take these to someone else?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± he says hurriedly, before collecting himself ¡°I mean no, I¡¯ll take it for forty.¡±

    Tantra extends out her hand to the man. ¡°It¡¯s a deal.¡±

    -

    A hand clamps onto her shoulder and stops her dead not three strides away from the alchemist''s store. Tantra glances behind her to witness a giant of a man, easily reaching seven feet and radiating strength towering over her. He wears a robe of green with black trim to accompany a black sash around his waist, his face has one giant scar carving its way from his chin up to his eye, which is a dull brown.

    ¡°Are you Tantra?¡± The man rumbles.

    ¡°I may be, and who are you?¡± She says as she turns to face the man.

    He shrugs, ¡°name¡¯s Domor Kirtha, and I¡¯m here to kill ya.¡±

    Tantra by now has noticed how the crowd has begun giving the two space, creating a little arena of cobblestone to surround them. Tantra grips her Kanab¨­ and stares at the man, fighting back a smile.

    ¡°I assume that¡¯s a formal declaration for a duel?¡± Tantra says, projecting as much calm as she can muster.

    ¡°Sure,¡± the man shrugs, ¡°If you wanna call it that.¡±

    Tantra brings her club to the ground in a two handed grip and continues to stare as the crowd backs away further.

    ¡°Ready?¡± He says.

    Tantra takes a deep breath, ¡°Ready.¡±

    The man nods, and then there is steel bearing down on her skull. Tantra can see, intimately, the fine script carvings on the edge of his Axe. Usually they build them inside the steel, but the more complex ones can present too much of a challenge for conventional methods. What it does, Tantra doesn¡¯t know nor care to know, all she needs is to get out of the way.

    She pushes a quarter of her Qi into her body, focused solely on the need for motion. She can feel her bones ache and muscles strain with the amount she¡¯s forcing into her body, but she successfully dodges ten paces to the left.

    The man looks at the small crater he¡¯s made of the cobblestone, then turns his head to look at her.

    ¡°Actually managed to dodge that? Impressive, for one of your cultivation¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡± Tantra says blandly

    He grunts before shouldering his axe, and Tantra steadies her club in front of her.

    He just stares, not moving an inch as he scratches his belly with one hand.

    Tantra scrunches her brow, but then she smells something.

    Like stone crumbling into dust, and it¡¯s right beneath her.

    Confused, she looks down.

    A spike of jagged contours, about the size of her fist.

    Lodged right into her guts.

    That¡¯s not good.

    ¡°Should¡¯ve worked on your Qi senses,¡± the man shakes his head, ¡°that¡¯s a big weakness to exploit.¡±

    She goes to say something, perhaps a retort, but the axe is already in motion, aimed straight at her neck.

    Tantra brings up her Kanab¨­, and there is the clang of metal.

    Only she doesn¡¯t feel any weight on her weapon.

    ¡°Well,¡± says the vibrating blade, ¡°this isn¡¯t very fair, now is it?¡±

 Ch.70:We All Have Our Obligations

    Scheming isn¡¯t something Tantra is well versed in, sure, to be a merchant is to be conniving, but not with the end goal of murder. So, when making this plan, she decided to go simple, as simple as she can really.

    She set some bait, made Tikor think he was on a timeline, and got him to do something stupid.

    All while playing pretend so he can think he¡¯s being clever.

    She needed him to send a proper cultivator, an expensive one she couldn¡¯t realistically stand a chance against, and she needed witnesses.

    So, so many witnesses.

    This plan needed a little trust, but Goruk delivered just as she thought he would.

    Tantra manifests a sigil in her hand and takes a deep breath.

    ¡°YOU DARE?!?,¡± she bellows ¡°I am Tantra Sol of the Jade Sol, you dare to try and kill me, in the streets of my own home?!?¡±

    The crowd goes silent, all turning to stare at the girl on a spike in the cobblestone streets, all paralyzed as they stare at the sigil made of ornate jade, inlaid with gold to make the silhouette of a flying swan.

    Tantra never much cared for her family symbol, but she has to say, it does wonders in scaring the shit out of people as what were once bystanders pale and inadvertently become her little birds.

    The giant in green stares at her in confusion, ¡°this was a duel girl, death happens in duels.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± says the sound of cutting air, ¡°from what I¡¯ve heard she¡¯s a shrewd one, and besides, you¡¯ve already shattered a few rules by targeting someone so far below your cultivation.¡±

    Tantra smiles wide at the man as she begins to hear the lovely sound of gossip spreading. If Tikor knows what''s good for him he¡¯ll get the fuck out of Ralth or hide under his fiance¨¦¡¯s name, but Tantra won¡¯t give him that kind of time, she lets her Kanab¨­ hit the cobblestone as she grabs the spike and pushes.

    ¡°Cultivators are subject to no rules,¡± the giant rumbles.

    The man in white lets out a soft laugh of delicate swordsmanship, ¡°not in the big cities friend, here there is some order to the madness.¡±

    Agony screams through her intestines as she is brought back down on the spike, turns out the angle was just a little too high for her to manage, simply pushing herself off. She grunts and reluctantly summons Rakans club, bringing it down on the neck of the spike.

    After a few strikes it shatters and she¡¯s free.

    ¡°Well come on then,¡± says the swordsman, ¡°you were so eager in your quest to kill the little one that you must be up for some reciprocity.¡±

    She can tell from the man''s voice that he¡¯s far into integration, which is strange because he looks normal, then again she¡¯s only seeing his back. That and weapon dao¡¯s don¡¯t change the body much, but from the sounds he¡¯s making there¡¯s more than one dao beneath the surface.

    The giant in green simply grunts before bringing his axe down on the man''s head. It is only a moment, but Tantra gets to witness as both of the giants arms are turned to stumps. The swordsman''s blade is out of its sheath, pointed to the side and free of blood.

    He presses the blade to the giant''s neck.

    ¡°I will let you live,¡± says the swordsman, ¡°If you tell our audience who exactly hired you.¡±

    -

    The walk back to her home felt like the longest she¡¯s ever taken.

    It wasn¡¯t long enough.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Tantra takes steady breaths as she walks up to the eastern gate to the estate, it isn¡¯t anything ornate, simply steel, polished to a shine in the sun''s glare. Most of the guards manning it are mortal, but there¡¯s always at least a few cultivators at the ready. Jobs like these are easy money and provide time for more training before they¡­can pursue the more dramatic aspects of cultivator life.

    She¡¯s never really thought about it before but she¡¯s been a witness to shit those from the greater sects don¡¯t tend to deal with. All cozy with their privileged positions in Goroka, they get to have some time before the life threatening bullshit comes walking to their doorstep, they get to prepare.

    She doesn¡¯t know why she¡¯s so pissed off at that, isn¡¯t it a good thing for less people to die? Besides, most who enter the plunge don¡¯t come back up, no matter how much time they were given, so it¡¯s kind of a moot point either way.

    It doesn¡¯t take long for the guards to recognize her,running over in their fancy segmented cuirass¡¯s, looking mighty worried about her obvious gut wound.

    ¡°Lady Tantra-¡±

    ¡°Get out of my way.¡±

    ¡°My lady-¡±

    ¡°I told you to move.¡± Tantra snarls.

    The guard hesitates, but he does as he¡¯s told, as he should.

    Lucky for him to be a servant, he doesn¡¯t have to worry about beasts or cultivators or anything. Can just stay in his cushy little job as a guard to one of the richest families in Rikidan, and go raise a lovely little family. He doesn¡¯t even have to worry about killing his brother!

    Well, if he has one.

    The garden on the estate is just as pristine as its always been, hedges designed in the image of swans in different positions that positively give Tantra the shivers. Birds are just unsettling. Just¡­their faces with a beak or bill, and how they can simply fly.

    Tantra¡¯s sure they originated from some kind of fucked up divine beast, only thing that makes sense for something so¡­strange.

    There are few servants who notice her march unto the mansion and try to help her in one way or another. She gives each of them a not so subtle fuck off as she continues walking to the doors. Funnily enough it''s made from darkwood oak, all the way from the east. Unlike normal wood it¡¯s quite sturdy, doesn¡¯t scuff or dent easily.

    Absolute bitch for the carpenters who have to work with it though.

    If only they learned infusion.

    Isn¡¯t that a funny thought, a carpenter cultivator? Almost as funny as a merchant cultivator. As she passes by halls of blueflame and the occasional painting, she debates if this is going to seal that future away forever.

    Is she going to have to leave the estate?

    She¡¯s never really thought about that, but who¡¯d be comfortable with a kin-killer in the family? At least she¡¯s gathered enough evidence to where the Sentinel won¡¯t do anything. She can only hope that her family will see things her way.

    She doesn¡¯t have a choice after all.

    She doesn¡¯t have a choice.

    She repeats that mantra like it was holy text, found in one of the temples from a time when humanity showed deference to the divine. What changed that, she wonders, why did all of humanity collectively decide that they¡¯d rather defy the Gods than serve them?

    There are stories of the Dead God, how it was felled in combat by Talium the immortal as the first true act of defiance. How anyone could have managed to kill a God is anyone''s guess, but the Qi it radiates is too dense and laden with hunger for anyone to actually see the corpse without going insane.

    Is she insane?

    She¡¯s going to kill her brother after all.

    Tantra stands in front of her first stop, and the most likely place she¡¯ll find Tokir. Seconds stretch to minutes as she listens to quill marking paper, probably doing plenty to manage the family business, especially his own portion. That¡¯s going to suck, dealing with the void he¡¯ll leave, she doesn¡¯t know him very well but one of the few things she does know is that he¡¯s diligent.

    Shame he¡¯s also a cunt.

    Tantra takes a deep breath.

    In.

    Out.

    Then she opens the door.

    What greets her is the sight of a man with short brown curls and skin of a light caramel, brown eyes perusing through one of many ledgers and scrolls. They glance up at her for a moment, before Tikor does a double take and color drains from his skin.

    ¡°Tantra!¡± he says frenetically, ¡°what happened? Oh gods you need to see the healer, let me just call a serv-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t play this game with me, Tikor,¡± she interrupts, ¡°I know it was you, I just want to know why.¡±

    ¡°Tantra, please, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Tantra sighs.

    Tikor goes to say something else, but it¡¯s hard to do that when the top portion of your skull is crushed with the weight of a kanab¨­ swung by a boosted pair of arms. His eyes pop out and roll on the floor as the fresh corpse falls, muscles contracting as confused neurons fire signals across his body.

    Tantra stares at the corpse.

    She had to.

 Ch.71:I Did The Right Thing

    The fragility of mortals is kind of funny.

    It¡¯s so¡­contradictory. They maintain a place of dominance in the world, sitting high on their throne of bones, only surpassed by the GodBeasts. Yet they¡¯re so easy to break, all it takes is a simple application of force and they pop like a cherry.

    A very bloody cherry.

    Tantra leans down and picks up one of Tokir¡¯s eyes, holding it between her fingers as she examines the dull brown of his iris. All it took was one swing, she didn¡¯t even have to think, she just had to act.

    ¡°You made me do this,¡± she accuses the eye.

    It¡¯s true too, if he hadn¡¯t sent his little mercenaries she would have no cause nor desire to kill him. They could have gone to their normal once she returned, quietly ignoring each other. Is it weird that she wishes she got to know him better? Maybe then he would have at least hesitated before marking her for death.

    The eye doesn¡¯t respond, just¡­staring at her as she stares back.

    Is it weird she expected this to be more dramatic? Like an opera or theater, where he confesses to his crimes and she struggles with the morality of putting him down. Instead it was just a swing, just one simple swing and a life ended.

    Quick, brutal, and without fanfare.

    So fragile.

    She wonders what she¡¯s supposed to do now, go back to her room and have a servant wash out all the blood? Her gut wound is still leaking but she isn¡¯t really concerned, she¡¯s a cultivator, she¡¯s not fragile. She¡¯ll suffer much worse than a puncture to the abdomen or a bash to the brains before she keels over, comes with the territory.

    ¡°You made me,¡± she says again to the eye.

    She¡¯s still angry, is that normal? She got her vengeance, delivered it quite brutally even, yet she still can¡¯t help that simmer of rage just below the surface. None of this was necessary, none of it, if Rakan hadn¡¯t died she may have even forgiven him, simply taking the contract to Dozen for him to deal with Tokir.

    But Rakan did die, so she had to.

    She had to.

    She rolls the eye in her palm a few times, sensory nerves that once connected it to his brain wrapped around her fingers as she plays with it. All of this was planned, none of it was spur of the moment, Tantra has officially committed her first murder.

    How cultivatory.

    Friend dies, get vengeance, end of story.

    So simplistic.

    So stupid.

    But she did it anyway, because it was the right thing to do.

    She hears a choked cry from behind her, and turns to see Ral staring at the corpse with tears beading in her eyes.

    ¡°What have you done?¡±

    -

    She needs something to do.

    She¡¯d go mad if all she did while trapped in her room was stare into the mirror and ponder, so she trains.

    She pulls three threads together into a rope, it¡¯d be laughably easy if she wasn¡¯t gathering at the same time. This is technically her break, gathering Qi after training techniques of intention, but you¡¯d be forgiven for misunderstanding, considering how hard she¡¯s concentrating.

    It works quite nicely for her circumstances, her robe with the arrays is still at the tailors, so any blood that¡¯d stain what remains of her wardrobe would be an absolute pain in the ass to clean so instead she¡¯s multitasking, can¡¯t leave an opportunity for training unrealized after all.

    Her floating ball exercise has been progressing, quite splendidly actually, developing her own unique relationship with reality. It¡¯s strange, her will has become a thing of force, but she doesn¡¯t force reality to do as she says, she¡¯s pretty sure no one can. Instead it¡¯s more like¡­a stern request? It¡¯s aggressive, but it¡¯s still a relationship, progressing just the same as the standard method is described. She doesn¡¯t know how this will affect more complex concepts, repulsing a ball from her palm is pretty simplistic, but it might not translate well to her theoretical technique.

    She wonders how reality recognizes a concept. Take the concept of the blade for example, the blade wasn¡¯t made until humanities rise so many millennia ago. Does reality interpret something new and assign it a concept? Or is every possibility already mapped out, waiting to be found? She doesn¡¯t know, the only people who bother to research that are mortals, and they don¡¯t tend to get very far beyond conjecture, on account of having no real cultivation.

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    Since, of course, she needs something to do; and since floating a ball isn¡¯t exactly tantalizing entertainment, she¡¯s been going through some of the technique manuals Rakan¡¯s left behind, which has proven interesting, if somewhat useless. It¡¯s either too complex in practice, or she has to translate it to her version of Qi manipulation since she doesn¡¯t have the relevant meridians.

    Still, all she has to do is use her brain, and she¡¯s comfortable enough with that

    The first technique she wants to learn, aptly named Rejuvenation, is technically a healing technique. It essentially uses Qi as fuel to match the body with the soul''s interpretation of the body, which requires her to be able to latch onto her soul, connecting it to the body, then making adjustments using Qi based on the inconsistencies. There''s a much simpler one called Regeneration which is just using Qi to fuel natural regeneration, but she chose Rejuvenation for a simple reason.

    Theoretically it could heal her scars, if she¡¯s working with the right assumptions, that being that souls don¡¯t scar. There are two major problems though, the first one being connecting to her soul with Qi. She¡¯s always used Qi in the physical, never really considering it could interact directly with the soul.

    Soul Qi comes from, well, the soul, so why not reverse the process?

    It has not been going well, but cultivation is all about long timelines so she¡¯s fine with that.

    The second issue once she solves the first is how in the hells she¡¯s going to mold her body. What¡¯s described is essentially one step down from what happens in integration, the difference being the technique uses the soul as a blueprint while for integration it¡¯s the bricks.

    That might take significantly longer than the first step.

    She¡¯s dabbling with Regeneration of course, she¡¯s not stupid, it¡¯s just¡­not her main focus.

    Then there¡¯s Scales, which is, to put it simply, a scale mail defensive technique. She chose this one for the sheer challenge it represents for her control if she can get it working for her whole body. It¡¯s meant to be done in segments, in relation to the meridians, but she can¡¯t help but salivate over the idea of more to do, and this is just perfect for that.

    Then, last but not least, is Sensory Overload. This one is simple, boost the brain. That¡¯s it, just boost the brain and see what happens. Well that¡¯s not all it is, but that\s about all that matters. Her organs have reached the point where she doesn¡¯t injure them when boosting, which she found out only recently when she said fuck it and tried it out.

    Sensory Overload, is pretty much exactly what it says it is, all your senses explode with information, so much that it can¡¯t be properly interpreted.

    It¡¯s another training method though, and she¡¯ll take as many as she can of those right now.

    She¡¯s ignoring the elephant in the room, which is kind of a misnomer considering how skinny he is, but Tantra can¡¯t really face Dozen right now, so she continues to thread with her eyes closed as he waits patiently. She heard the door open and close, and only Dozen would wait, maybe one of her mothers, but she has a feeling they don¡¯t want to see her.

    Which is fair.

    She has trouble looking at herself in the mirror these days, but she does it anyway, because she did the right thing.

    She did the right thing.

    She shouldn¡¯t feel guilt, shouldn¡¯t feel remorse, shouldn¡¯t feel regret.

    She shouldn''t be afraid.

    Taking a deep breath she opens her eyes and takes in the sight of her brother.

    He somehow looks worse than he normally does, eyes marred by fresh tears as he stares her down, there is betrayal there, and also¡­fear.

    ¡°Dozen,¡± she says.

    He nods to her.

    ¡°Did you find it?¡±

    He nods again.

    ¡°Then you know I acted within my rights to defend myself.¡±

    He doesn¡¯t nod this time, just giving her a sad stare.

    ¡°Talk to me brother, please.¡±

    His gaze drops to his hands and he lets out a shaky sigh.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me, instead of escalating to this?¡±

    Tantra looks at him as he refuses to meet her eyes, he¡¯s shaking a little. She¡¯s never seen her brother this¡­ Angry? Scared? Sad? A mix of all three? She doesn¡¯t know

    ¡°Because what you would¡¯ve done to him would be paltry compared to his crimes.¡±

    ¡°That would have been better!¡±

    ¡°No,¡± She snarls, some dormant rage stirring.

    ¡°He was family, we don¡¯t kill family.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right, we don¡¯t.¡± She replies sharply, leaving the implication to hang in the air.

    Dozen runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, ¡°I let you go through those godsdamned contracts¡± he says with a hollow voice, ¡°you¡¯ve made me complicit in the murder of my brother.¡±

    ¡°I would¡¯ve found out anyway,¡± Tantra says softly, ¡°the cultivator he hired was more than happy to tell us once he lost his arms.¡±

    Dozen looks at her with tired eyes, up and down like he¡¯s seeing her for the first time.

    ¡°You¡¯ve acclimated to cultivator life easily enough it seems,¡± he says bitterly.

    ¡°That isn¡¯t fair, he hired assassins to kill me, I only did what was necessary.¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t necessary, it wasn¡¯t necessary at all.¡±

 Ch.72:The Consequences Of Conviction

    ¡°No no, you have to do it like this.¡±  Tosa lifts her chin, staring deep into Kisrin¡¯s single eye. She gives a slight smirk to accompany a mask of intense stoicism.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Yorin says, ¡°That feels more creepy than romantic.¡±

    Tosa turns to Yorin with a raised brow, ¡°oh, and where exactly are all the ladies swooning over you?¡±

    ¡°I mean, that kinda works both ways.¡±

    ¡°I am a lady! I don¡¯t need a woman to validate my skills.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like an excuse to me~¡±

    ¡°Wha-I, no, why am I listening to you? You¡¯re an idiot!¡±

    Yorin chuckles, much to Tosa¡¯s chagrin.

    Kisrin doesn¡¯t know how these two got so close over the course of days, but he has to admit, it¡¯s quite entertaining. Most of the ¡®training¡¯ has been Yorin needling the girl about her rather¡­interesting advice.

    Kisrin¡¯s pretty sure if he pushed Tantra up against a wall all he¡¯d get is a few loose teeth.

    Other than delivering questionable flirting advice, Tosa¡¯s actually been participating in the proper training, although her exercises are laughable compared to theirs.

    Still, it¡¯s company, Kisrin isn¡¯t against company

    Especially considering the estates recent reticence, turns out fratricide isn¡¯t very endearing, go figure.

    He¡¯s surprised Tantra actually did it, sure she was pretty intense when planning this, but the whole purpose of her pushing herself so hard for the past two years was to see her family again.

    The same one she possibly just lost.

    Well, at least then they¡¯ll have something in common they can bond over other than cultivation.

    That¡¯s a very fucked up thought.

    He hopes it doesn¡¯t come to that, but his optimism has been dwindling the longer they mandate she stay in her room. They¡¯ve had more than enough time to find and examine the evidence of Tikor¡¯s dealings.

    Meaning either they don¡¯t care, or don¡¯t care enough to fully exonerate her

    At least the Sentinel didn¡¯t seem to mind, giving a public statement that said in no uncertain terms that Tikor was a dumbass and got what was coming to him.

    Not those exact words but close enough.

    He doesn¡¯t know how Sentinels work, but he¡¯s glad they don¡¯t have to worry about them too.

    ¡°Argh!¡± Tosa exclaims, ¡°Tantra needs to be set free so she can kick your derriere for me.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a derriere?¡± Yorin tilts his head.

    ¡°Your butt, plebeian!¡±

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you just say that?¡±

    ¡°Refined words are for refined people, mundane words are for mundane people.¡±

    ¡°But don¡¯t you kind of miss the point if the person doesn¡¯t understand what you''re saying?¡±

    ¡°Preposterous! Why would I degrade myself for your understanding?¡±

    ¡°Because¡­that¡¯s the point of conversing?¡±

    ¡°Well-¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem all that bothered by your brother''s death,¡± Kisrin interrupts.

    Tosa gives him a raised brow, ¡° a little abrupt, do you not enjoy my company?¡±

    ¡°I mean, I do, It¡¯s just weird.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s so weird about it?¡± Tosa shrugs, ¡°Tikor played the game and lost quite spectacularly, and now he¡¯s dead.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s kinda cold.¡±

    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Is it?¡±

    ¡°Well, the rest of your family seems to care.¡±

    She shrugs, ¡°they know the realities of the high life, Tantra wasn¡¯t likely to be the last on TIkor¡¯s little list, though a few are¡­grieving. It¡¯s more that they¡¯re scared of Tantra, which is silly, she¡¯s not a rabid dog.¡±

    ¡°She did burst his head open,¡± Yorin says.

    ¡°Yes well, consequences of a brute¡¯s weapon, honestly her choice confounds me!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s because of her mentor,¡± Kisrin says.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Her mentor used the kanab¨­.¡±

    ¡°And where is this mentor?¡±

    ¡°Dead,¡± Kisrin says flatly, ¡°because of your brother.¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Tosa replies, ¡°well, that explains quite a bit.¡±

    -

    The most prevalent mutation among beasts and mongrels is a marked increase in size. Qi might change them into something grotesque, but getting bigger is almost standard. The most predominant theory being that it¡¯s just convenient for Qi flowing through muscle and sinew to make more rather than make it different.

    It¡¯s a simple and eloquent explanation, and the one that¡¯s preferred by academics according to the book she¡¯s reading, and Tantra can see why.

    The other theories have too many holes to count

    The most ridiculous one being divine guidance.

    Why, exactly, would Vaza¡¯kimi care rough to personally guide each and every beast¡¯s growth? Especially since divine beasts tend to reverse their mutations once they gain a core, save for a few changes based on the dao (If they have one).

    Why would the final product be the exact same if the god of beauty was the one molding their features? That¡¯s not even touching on the fact that the sheer amount of attention that would bring to Testhim would be enough to start a ninth cataclysm.

    Tantra shivers.

    She hopes to never incur a tribulation from the heavens, being marked by a god is a famously lethal process, and extremely gruesome from the rumors she¡¯s heard.

    Perhaps more gruesome than having your head burst like confetti.

    No.

    That¡¯s a bad thought.

    Back to the book then.

    It¡¯s a thick tome, one of the ones she ordered for her studies. The portion she¡¯s reading right now is a subcategory on beast mutations, which is actually quite interesting despite what Rakan might have said about it.

    Her face turns somber as she continues to read the passages.

    Apparently spirit beasts don¡¯t have metaphysical organs, only possessing the body and soul. The lack of an intermediary is the main theory for why they mutate so easily compared to humans, with the soul unable to act as a filter.

    Though this is all work done by mortals, with the assistance of cultivators here and there, so it¡¯s validity is more questionable than the more concrete sections on human anatomy and physiology.

    It¡¯s  a big book.

    Her door cracks open and Tantra glances up to see the familiar sight of Dozen walking through her door. He¡¯s been doing that a lot lately, acting as a kind of intermediary between her and the rest of the family as none of them that matter are really willing to see her.

    That hurts, what hurts more is the vote to prohibit any guests while she¡¯s trapped in her little room.

    Well, not trapped, they¡¯d need a cultivator to force her to stay, and doing that is a quick way to incur the wrath of a sentinel considering they have no legal justification for detention.

    But they¡¯re her family, she¡¯ll listen, so long as it''s reasonable.

    Dozen sits on a chair placed beside her bed for this exact purpose.

    ¡°Keeping busy?¡± He tilts his chin towards the book.

    ¡°Yeah, not much else to do but study and train.¡±

    He chuckles, ¡°well at least you still have some passion for the intellectual arts.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve changed into some completely new person at the sect.¡±

    ¡°So the Tantra of before wouldn¡¯t have hesitated to murder her brother?¡±

    Tantra flinches at his words and looks down at her book.

    She doesn¡¯t regret it.

    She refuses to regret it.

    But it hurts every time Dozen reminds her, like scraping a blade to a fresh wound.

    She reminds herself of Rakan, holds the memory close to her chest, the times he¡¯d offer nuggets of wisdom, the way he¡¯d push her to her limits and not an inch further. She didn¡¯t appreciate how good of a mentor he was until he was gone.

    She can¡¯t even say thank you.

    She turns to look at Dozen with a hard expression, ¡°I did what I had to do, his actions caused the death of someone precious, and by his estimation would¡¯ve caused mine as well, and maybe even my friends if the assassins felt bloodthirsty.¡±

    He¡­isn¡¯t taken aback, but he does look at her with some measure of surprise, along with the sadness.

    ¡°Was it worth your family?¡±

    A surge of panic shoots through her veins.

    ¡°So they¡¯ve decided then?¡± She says, bottom lip quivering.

    He nods.

    ¡°Your inheritance is forfeit, and we¡¯re replacing your sigil with something less¡­influential. You¡¯ll be living in an estate closer to the wall. We are granting these accommodations because of your status as a cultivator, and the continued utility of your service.¡±

    He takes a breath, and lets it out slow.

    ¡°As of today you are no longer a Sol.¡±

 Ch.73:I Was Just Enjoying The View

    It¡¯s soft, so soft.

    A robe of linen is draped over her bed, it¡¯s a deep purple with one sleeve on the left arm. There is embroidery on the sleeve, a golden snake wrapped around and around, coiling as snakes are wont to do. She¡¯s impressed, the skill required to complete delicate embroidery alongside intricate array scripts is great indeed.

    It must have cost a practical fortune.

    All so she could hide the shame of her left arm.

    She grabs the robes and hugs them tight, so close to her chest where all she feels is a deep pain. They did this on a whim, because they loved her, because they cared for her. Now all of it is gone, just¡­gone.

    She¡¯s just Tantra now, exiled.

    Not really, they¡¯re keeping her close supposedly to use her as some sort of caravan guard, probably for cheap to, such is the way of merchants, can never overlook an opportunity.

    She can see what they¡¯re doing, it¡¯s pretty blatant, dangling the opportunity to be brought back into the fold if she does her job just right.

    Even if she can see the trap, she can¡¯t help but let it clamp on her leg.

    It¡¯s almost funny, she knew this might happen, it was dangerously likely, but she did it anyway.

    Would she do it again?

    She doesn¡¯t know, she¡¯s not in the right headspace for that kind of contemplation.

    Everyday she pushed herself to the brink, and sometimes beyond it, all for the hope that someday she¡¯d see her family again, and she did, for a little while.

    But they¡¯re not family anymore, now she has no one.

    She hugs the robes so tight.

    -

    It¡¯s a long time before someone comes to visit her, old hinges creaking on a door of plain wood. The estate she and her friends are staying at now isn¡¯t nearly as luxurious as the main estate, but it¡¯s a place where they can rest and train, and that¡¯s all that really matters for cultivators now, isn¡¯t it? Because that¡¯s all she is now, just a plain old cultivator, no more merchant girl Tantra, now it¡¯s just the brute with a big ol¡¯ club who happens to know a thing or two about financing.

    How quirky.

    ¡°I told you all I wanted to be alone,¡± Tantra says sharply, a little too sharp, considering they¡¯re probably just checking on her.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you do,¡± Kisrin says as he sits next to her, ¡°but I don¡¯t really care for leaving you by your lonesome.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want platitudes Kisrin, please, I¡­I just want to be left to grieve.¡±

    Kisrin hums, ¡°that¡¯s generally a bad idea, keeping yourself holed up, with only your thoughts as company for so long.¡±

    ¡°What if I like my thoughts, hmm?¡±

    ¡°Somehow I doubt that.¡±

    Tantra actually manages a chuckle and Kisrin gives her a small smile.

    ¡°We¡¯ve really had a bad run of things huh?¡± Kisrin says.

    ¡°You definitely have it worse.¡±

    ¡°not really a competition, you¡¯ve suffered just the same as I have.¡±

    ¡°Do you think Rakan would be happy?¡± Tantra whispers as she hugs her knees.

    ¡°Dunno, didn¡¯t know him all that well despite how long we traveled together, he doesn¡¯t seem like the vengeance type, but I doubt he¡¯d be unhappy.¡±

    ¡°He didn¡¯t have a last name either, think he got expelled from his family as well?¡±

    Kisrin grunts, ¡°who knows, can¡¯t exactly ask him,¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±

    ¡°But I know he wouldn¡¯t want you wasting your time moping,¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not moping,¡±

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    ¡°You¡¯re definitely moping.¡±

    Tantra grumbles at him which causes another smile to grace his features. She hates to admit that what he¡¯s doing is actually working, she doesn¡¯t want to feel better, she wants to feel shitty and be shitty and go to sleep.

    Then maybe she¡¯ll feel little better the next day.

    ¡°So?¡± he says, ¡°what¡¯re your plans?¡±

    ¡°Hm?¡±

    ¡°Well you¡¯ve got a lot of free time now that you''re done plotting, just wondering what you plan to do with it.¡±

    ¡°Beyond training? I haven¡¯t really thought of it.¡±

    He snorts, ¡°going all in on the cultivation?¡±

    She shrugs, ¡°it¡¯s all I have now.¡±

    ¡°What about being a merchant?¡±

    Tantra scoffs, ¡°do you even realize how hard it is to build a company from scratch?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re cultivators, we can afford it, given enough time.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about that, running a business requires knowledge. Knowledge I don¡¯t have, and was hoping to get by apprenticing under some of our more experienced merchants. Now the best I can hope for is being a glorified guard.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re giving up?¡±

    ¡°No¡­I¡­I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t really want to think about it.¡±

    He nods, ¡°fair.¡±

    They sit in companionable silence for a bit, and Tantra muses about how lucky she is to have friends that are so caring. Out of everything she got from the sect, it would be the relationships she made along the way.

    ¡°So,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°can you hurry and get out of your funk before Yorin does something drastic?¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°drastic how?¡±

    ¡°Breaking into the estate and demanding they reverse their decision kind of drastic.¡±

    ¡°He can¡¯t be that stupid.¡±

    ¡°You really wanna test that?¡±

    -

    She brings her Kanab¨­ up to her shoulder,

    She swings diagonally and resets it on her other shoulder, swinging again.

    There isn¡¯t much training she can do with her weapon now that Rakan¡¯s gone, other than with the others, but she has to hold back significantly because of how fragile their bodies are. Kisrin can take more damage than the rest but it¡¯s still not to the point where she can feel comfortable with giving him severe brain damage. So she swings her Kanab¨­ in a figure eight, repetition breeds mastery after all¡­maybe?

    She doesn¡¯t know, this is just what was on her self assigned training schedule.

    You know, the one she makes when she doesn¡¯t want to think.

    Which is proving to be not as effective as she hoped, considering the current thinking going on, but she can¡¯t slack. Cultivation is all she has for now, so she¡¯s going to excel, and she of all people knows how bad she is with the martial aspect.

    Can¡¯t substitute skill with brute force forever.

    Not that practicing a single motion will make her more skilled, but it¡¯ll make her great at that motion, which is a start.

    Besides, this is the first motion Rakan taught her, so she might as well start here.

    Rakan¡­when they first met she thought he was some kind of eccentric, taking her on as his student so randomly when there were other candidates that¡¯d prove much more talented. She thought it was because the masters approved of her knowing the blood infusion technique, and perhaps it was a factor, but she¡¯s beginning to doubt that¡¯s all it was.

    The longer they travelled, the more she appreciated his pragmatic side.

    They didn¡¯t talk much about his view of life, but his outlook always seemed so bleak, yet he still seemed to be enjoying it.

    She doesn¡¯t know how.

    She wishes she had more time.

    It was just so sudden.

    She could do nothing about it, and she has a feeling that even if she spent a few more years training her contribution would be minimal, at least if she keeps respecting her limits.

    That was a big thing with his training, always going hard but never too hard, can¡¯t train something broken after all.

    She¡¯s been considering her technique for a while now, Sensory Overload proved that she¡¯s ready. If it works on the same principle as the technique it was inspired by it should make her stronger with significantly less Qi.

    But she¡¯s been stalling, because she¡¯s afraid.

    Her control barely passes the five thread mark, and she only assigned that goal arbitrarily, for all she knows, manipulating Qi with that kind of precision could require mastery over a dozen threads.

    But¡­

    She needs to be able to survive, now that Rakan¡¯s gone, and she can¡¯t do that by being weak.

    As she swings her kanab¨­ she pulls a thread from her core and directs it towards her heart, slowly, as a test. She asserts her will on reality demanding/requesting that it changes the nature of her blood from something that feeds to something that also enhances.

    Then she boosts.

    The world expands, and she almost loses her flow from the sheer amount of information inundating her brain. The sound of the grass rustling in the wind is like the footsteps of a titan, she can smell the meat buns cooking from the kitchen, the crowd walking outside of the estate, but her focus is brought on from the sharp intake of perfume right behind her.

    Tantra whips her body around at a speed that mortals wouldn¡¯t be able to follow.

    About a dozen feet behind her sits a girl with violet hair and an obsidian black dress, beside her is a man that exudes the smell of wet earth to a rather tepid intensity.

    ¡°Oh don¡¯t mind me,¡± Synthia says, ¡°I was just enjoying the view.¡±

 Ch.74:Job Offer

    Now Tantra does lose her flow,

    The small stream of Qi feeding her heart cutting off as she takes in the noble girl and who she assumes is her guard, their both just standing there, Synthia mildly amused and the man looking at her with an intensity that feels uncomfortable.

    Then the backlash hits.

    Tantra keels over, one arm gripping her heart and another on her stomach, it¡¯s not pain, but it¡¯s so much, her breathing gets quick and shallow as her lungs struggle to breathe.

    A hand lands on her shoulder, and suddenly everything that¡¯s wrong washes away with a tide of Qi fueling some kind of technique washes over her like a warm bath.

    ¡°Calm,¡± she hears a gruff voice say.

    Tantra takes a deep gulp of air and looks up at the man.

    ¡°Thanks,¡±

    He shakes his head, ¡°no need, witnessing such a technique was enlightening.¡±

    Tantra blinks at the man, who just shrugs.

    ¡°Your body isn¡¯t so infused with Qi that one such as I can¡¯t see its inner workings.¡±

    Tantra¡¯s brain, which is a little sluggish for some reason, takes a second to acknowledge what he just said.

    Then her eyes go wide at him.

    ¡°Worry not, I couldn¡¯t replicate it even if I wanted to, your sect¡¯s secret is safe.¡±

    Tantra takes another breath and shakes off the fugue settling over her mind, what did he do? She can¡¯t feel the exhaustion that should be permeating her organs, but¡­well, it¡¯s like they¡¯re sore.

    She¡¯s never felt sore before from boosting.

    Apparently something on her features signaled curiosity as the man''s face lights up with a smile.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s an advanced technique meant-¡±

    ¡°Ezra,¡± Synthia chides, ¡°we aren¡¯t here for you two to discuss cultivation.¡±

    Ezra rolls his eyes, ¡°yes my lady.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate the sass,¡±

    ¡°Well too bad, it¡¯s what you get when you take away my fun.¡±

    Tantra is so confused, she¡¯s never seen Synthia banter before, Tantra always assumed the marquise''s daughter didn¡¯t have a single ounce of humor residing in her body.

    ¡°Apologies lady Synthi,¡± Tantra gets up and bows, fist in palm, ¡°but may I be so bold as to ask why you have come to this humble estate?¡±

    ¡°That should be obvious,¡± Synthia says, ¡°we came to talk to Ralth¡¯s newest outcast.¡±

    The pain she feels from those words is almost physical, and she has to stop herself from scowling at the very influential noble. She doesn¡¯t need the kind of trouble Synthia could bring down, especially not now when she is arguably at her most vulnerable.

    Oh.

    She¡¯s vulnerable.

    Tantra is starting to see the contours of whatever the girl is scheming.

    ¡°What can I do for you my lady?¡± Tantra says slowly

    A sly smile finds its way over her face, she holds out her hand and manifests a steaming cup of tea, taking a small sip, all the while not breaking eye contact with Tantra.

    ¡°You¡¯ve created quite the ruckus,¡± she finally says, ¡°rare is it for the sentinel to wave away the death of someone so influential. Your ploy was crass, but it worked wonders, all the nobles are horrified by the precedent this sets, you know our little gatherings have been postponed indefinitely because of your stunt?¡±

    ¡°My apologies my lady,¡±

    ¡°Oh don¡¯t bother, I know you don¡¯t really care about that. Let¡¯s leave the pretenses behind with the parties shall we?¡±

    ¡°Okay,¡± Tantra says slowly, ¡°If I may be so bold then, why have you come here? By your own admission the nobility has gained a new sense of caution, visiting the perpetrator doesn¡¯t seem in line with that thinking.¡±

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    ¡°The rest of the nobles are fools, they simply don¡¯t see the opportunity this presents.¡±

    ¡°What might that opportunity be?¡±

    Synthia takes another sip of tea and lets out a sigh of contentment, ¡°someone with your mind would be wasted as a caravan guard.¡±

    ¡°Are you seeking my services?¡±

    A small smile plays on Synthia¡¯s lips, ¡°perhaps,¡±

    ¡°Respectfully, I¡¯m only in the beginning of my cultivation, there is nothing I could provide that other cultivators cannot.¡±

    ¡°Ah, that¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong, afterall, you can navigate the political world better than any cultivator I know.¡±

    Ezra grunts.

    Synthia ignores him.

    Tantra just stares at the girl.

    ¡°What about my friends?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be opposed to housing them, along with the expected accommodations, we can even provide tutors. The Farlagh line has connections with plenty of influential cultivators.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯re sister won¡¯t mind?¡±

    Synthia titters, ¡°if anything she¡¯s grateful, being used as a political tool to connect our houses wasn¡¯t something she was exactly keen on.¡±

    Tantra stares at her,

    ¡°What would I be doing?¡± she asks carefully.

    Synthia smiles.

    -

    Is she really doing this?

    Staying under the wing of her family is the one chance she has to return to their good graces, no matter how long that might take, no matter how unlikely the prospect. But to throw it aside¡­then she¡¯ll solidify her position as an outcast, forever.

    But¡­this is an opportunity.

    She is, by all accounts, nowhere near qualified to act as Synthia¡¯s personal guard alongside Ezra, and by Synthia¡¯s own admission she agrees. But that¡¯s not where her value lies apparently, Synthia wants to use her as a kind of political piece rather than a cultivator.

    Essentially, she wants to be seen as the one who could leash the rabid dog who tore out the throat of its brother.

    Tantra suspects there¡¯s more to this than that, but she can¡¯t really think of anything that makes sense.

    The deciding factor, in the end, is the benefits this can bring to her friends.

    ¡°You sure?¡± Kisrin says, ¡°you can¡¯t take this back once you¡¯ve made the decision.¡±

    ¡°Fuck ¡®em,¡± Etra says, ¡°your families a bag of dicks for what they did, even in the face of all the evidence against that cunt of a brother.¡±

    ¡°Tosa was nice,¡± Yorin says.

    Etra rolls her eyes, ¡°I¡¯m sure she was, where is she again? Oh right, back at the big fancy mansion rather than here.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± Tantra says, ¡°Tosa¡¯s barely twelve, expecting her to oppose the family''s collective decision is too much for a child.¡±

    ¡°So she¡¯s a coward then? Not much better than scum if you ask me.¡±

    Tantra huffs, ¡°that¡¯s not how it works Etra, she might compromise her position in the family if she¡¯s seen siding with the kin-killer, there are those in my family who would gladly take her inheritance just as they took mine.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯d really do that just for coming to talk?¡± Yorin asks.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, not long ago I would¡¯ve been insulted by the suggestion, but now¡­¡±

    ¡°Now anything is possible,¡± Kisrin nods to her.

    ¡°Well, maybe not anything, but that kind of punishment isn¡¯t so outlandish now that it¡¯s been done. Maybe if Tosa carved out her own place in the family''s business it would be harder, but she¡¯s too young to even consider such ventures.¡±

    ¡°Politics is stupid,¡± Yorin says succinctly.

    Etra nods, ¡°I agree, this shit is just plain unfair.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not about fairness,¡± Tantra says, ¡°It¡¯s about maneuverability. Other than Ral and a few others who were close to Tikor, I doubt anyone really wanted to exile me, but it¡¯s an opportunity to make some good coin off my inheritance and remove potential competition. There¡¯s also the need to demonstrate to the noble houses that they won¡¯t tolerate fratricide, despite the Sentinels verdict.¡±

    ¡°You talk as though you agree with their decision,¡± Etra points out.

    ¡°I can see the logic in it,¡± Tantra replies sadly.

    The conversation peters out with that statement, Tantra looks around and notices something missing.

    ¡°Where¡¯s Erick?¡±

    As though decreed by a verdict of the heavens, she hears violent cursing coming from the kitchen, and just a moment later Erick rushes into the room giggling.

    -

    ¡°So I guess that means I¡¯m not getting paid,¡± Goruk grumbles as he washes the dishes.

    ¡°No,¡± Tantra says, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    He grunts, ¡°don¡¯t be, I¡¯d do it again if I have to, besides, I didn¡¯t really lose anything.¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°they did it for free?¡±

    ¡°No, but they may as well have.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯d you manage that?¡±

    ¡°Infinite ramen.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Offered him free ramen for as long as he lives.¡±

    Tantra stares at Goruk, ¡°you don¡¯t happen to be in need of another cultivator do you?¡±

    Goruk barks a laugh, ¡°Nice try kid, but with that fancy new job you¡¯re getting I can already see the coins flowing into my pockets.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t know If I¡¯m going to take it,¡± Tantra grumbles.

    ¡°You should,¡± Goruk says bluntly, ¡°respectfully, your families a gaggle of cunts if they decided to expel you for defending yourself.¡±

    ¡°You sure you should be talking about your sponsors like that?¡±

    ¡°What, you gonna rat me out?¡±

    ¡°No, but I¡¯m not the only one in this kitchen,¡±

    She hears a chuckle not far away.

    ¡°Please honourable cultivator, we would never,¡± says one of the chefs.

    ¡°Yeah, fuck the Sols!¡± another says enthusiastically, pointing his knife to the air.

    ¡°Fuck the Sols, fuck the Sols!¡± They all begin to chant.

 Ch.75:A Contemplative Stroll

    Tantra is staring at the moon, panting as she lays on the grass, she doesn¡¯t need much sleep anymore, perhaps four for the sixteen she passes awake. She knows her progress is insane in speed, and that her muscles can handle the strain of Qi admirably, but she doesn¡¯t have a body forged to use that to her advantage.

    It¡¯ll come, with time, so long as she keeps to her exercises, and the need to escape her thoughts has proven sufficient motivation from the need to see her family.

    She knows it¡¯s probably not the best idea, but it¡¯s working wonders, the need to escape responsibility and sorrow overwhelming in its necessity.

    She¡¯s pathetic.

    Kisrin lost everything and he managed to pull himself back, she¡¯s just avoiding, for fear it would crush her. But still, between the training, there are moments of contemplation.

    Which is why she doesn¡¯t leave any space between training.

    Taking one gigantic thread and splitting it into three smaller threads, she slowly covers her body with Qi. Scales is a challenge, even for her control, but it presents the best defensive option amongst the beginner techniques in her manual.

    It¡¯s meant to be more segmented and spontaneous, the cultivator forming the scales just before the point of impact, what she¡¯s doing, a full body perpetual suit is only possible because of her control, and it¡¯s only the first challenge.

    Just floating Qi under her skin isn¡¯t going to do anything, she has to push it with intention.

    She gives reality two orders, to make the Qi construct something that enforces her muscles with the concept of a bulwark, and for each scale to support the other, multiplying its defensive utility.

    That¡¯s the crux of this technique, its strength increases exponentially with each scale. Qi is something between physical and spiritual, so it doesn¡¯t share all the traits of either.

    Rather than a scale supporting its surrounding brothers, as normal scale mail would, instead each scale provides support for each one present, despite the distance between them.

    She pushes her intention and¡­it doesn¡¯t work.

    Another failure.

    She sighs, what is she doing wrong? The concepts of defence and support aren¡¯t so complex that they¡¯re above her will, she can tell, and her Qi doesn¡¯t drain so it¡¯s not that.

    She¡¯s missing something.

    But what?

    She sighs and stares at the moon, she can¡¯t really move considering how hard she went with her burpees, so she guesses she¡¯ll be sleeping on the grass tonight, which is fine.

    Her robes will clean themselves and it¡¯s an excuse to bathe one last time before she¡¯s officially¡­no longer part of the family.

    She has a sigil of iron to replace the one of jade, it essentially gives her the privileges to take rudimentary work under the Jade Sol.

    She¡¯ll have to give it back once she leaves.

    Her body starts to weep blood as Tantra pulls on five threads at once.

    -

    The halls of house Farlagh are quaint compared to the Sol estates'' ostentatious splendour. Tasteful paintings hang on walls of redwood, placed alongside vases filled with flowers. The rug on the floor is an obsidian black with intricate embroidery of gold decorating its periphery.

    The lamps are Qi constructs, feeding off the Qi in the air to provide illumination.

    The fact they¡¯re using Qi lamps instead of blueflame says a lot about their finances, but then again, the Jade Sol is a titan, or they just don¡¯t care for presentation, who knows? She isn¡¯t about to call her employer cheap to their face.

    Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    Still, the paintings are nice.

    She¡¯s looking at one depicting the oasis rumored to be at the center of The Hanging Dunes, in the painting multiple spirit beasts graze and drink from the oasis¡¯s waters in peace. There¡¯s a big red thing in the middle Tantra thinks is called a hippopotamus, skin glistening from the sun¡¯s glare. Whoever drew this has probably never seen the oasis, it is, afterall, the biggest foci on Testhim. The Expanse is bigger but it¡¯s a collection of hundreds of mediocre foci¡¯s working in synergy around the Dead God rather than one.

    ¡°It¡¯s a surprisingly peaceful interpretation of the Dunes,¡± Synthia says, ¡°I¡¯m more of the inclination that grand Godbeasts live at its center.¡±

    ¡°Despite Okham-Khal having never endured a beast tide from within?¡± Tantra says

    ¡°It¡¯s grand enough that the frenzied retreat of beasts would peter out by the time they reach any form of civilization.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Tantra comments diplomatically.

    ¡°Perhaps indeed,¡± Synthia muses, ¡°do you think anyones been to the centre? There are plenty of immortals in the sultanate who might survive the journey.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the musings of immortals, but if the centre has a Qi density anywhere near that of the Dead God¡¯s then it would require someone who''s survived millenia.¡±

    ¡°That does cut the candidates down quite a bit,¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s the man on the mountain,¡± Ezra interrupts.

    ¡°That¡¯s just a rumor, besides I don¡¯t remember giving you permission to speak,¡±

    Ezra rolls his eyes but listens to her order, it¡¯s almost comical watching someone near Tantra¡¯s age commanding a proper cultivator she assumes has anchored.

    He¡¯s at least touched the dao, if the smell of wet earth was any indication.

    ¡°Do you ever plan on visiting the Dunes?¡± Synthia asks.

    Tantra blinks, ¡°not particularly my lady.¡±

    ¡°Why not? You¡¯re lifespan will surely exceed mine by centuries, might as well see some of the world before rejoining the cycle.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll think on it,¡±

    ¡°See that you do.¡±

    -

    He walks through the trail of nature, luxuriating in the sounds of chittering bugs and singing birds, this forest is home to a thousand thousand lives, all fighting to thrive in an ecosystem designed to enslave them, and who are the greatest of slaves but the ones at the centre?

    Dousou doesn¡¯t understand the reverence others give to such things, they have the power to rule the world, and yet they don¡¯t, why?

    Simple, because the foci is their lifeline, they depend on it like an addiction, fighting every decade in a futile attempt for dominance over a piece of dirt that ultimately proves futile. Dousou has seen them die, multiple times, they always come back.

    Like an immortal, except they should be strong enough to destroy souls, so there must be another reason, some secret path only these primordial bastards know.

    Still, their continued survival makes for a lucrative bounty, if one is willing to go to the center of the DarkWoods, not a safe journey by any means but he has his methods.

    Like SILENCE.

    The world reverberates as he calls upon the dao, enshrouding his steps in the ambiance of his surroundings as he continues down the trail. Some scoff at simple dao¡¯s like his, pointing towards their limited utility, but dao is a thing of comprehension, and even the most unassuming can be made into something powerful.

    NO ONE SPEAKS UNDER THE EDGE OF MY BLADE.

    Such a simple mutation, from how it sounds it¡¯s almost useless, but there are so many ways to speak beyond words.

    Like communicating with reality.

    Such an integral part of a cultivators arsenal, stripped away.

    Suddenly it doesn¡¯t seem so useless does it?

    But foolish mortals will always tout the elemental dao¡¯s. Only seeing the flashy displays of cultivation with little understanding of its intricacies. But he¡¯s not really one to talk, silence is the only esoteric dao in his arsenal, so focused he was in his younger days on the stereotypes.

    One of his greatest shames.

    Still, he¡¯s strong, not nearly strong enough to face the divine beasts and wraiths that roam the center, but he¡¯s done this enough times to feel confident in his chances of making it back to the Serpent¡¯s Fang without injury, all he has to do is tread carefully and he can get the resources so crucial to his advancement.

    That¡¯s always the drive these days, finding some kind of shortcut to the arduous task of cultivation. Once you get to his state, resources become almost necessary to combat the glacial pace of progression.

    Sure he¡¯s stronger than he was a century ago, but not much of his progression has been from training. Sure, forging is meant to be resource intensive, and refining is dangerous to rush, but it gets to a point where it¡¯s just ridiculous.

    He doesn¡¯t train his foundations anymore, not really seeing the point, unless he drained a quarter of his core he won¡¯t feel much exhaustion, and he doesn¡¯t get into fights where that would be necessary, and the physical benefits don¡¯t really appeal to him as far as he is.

    Have to be judicious with your time after all, pursue everything and you¡¯ll have time for nothing.

    He walks silently down the trail, musing on his cultivation along the way.

 Ch.76:Insolence

    Tantra is¡­tired.

    She stands in her new room, staring at herself in the mirror, the scar on her neck has gotten slightly better, less purple and more pink. Her voice is almost back too, the hoarseness that¡¯s been haunting her for almost two years subsiding into more of a scratchy undertone. She can¡¯t imagine having to live for decades just to get rid of that.

    She¡¯ll have to thank the masters, especially the librarian.

    She doesn¡¯t know when she¡¯ll be back now, but it won¡¯t be anytime soon.

    She wonders if they¡¯ll be able to see all she¡¯s been through by the look in her eyes.

    Is this how cultivators are supposed to live? Bouncing between tribulations and tragedies? She can only hope Synthia¡¯s employment is more¡­peaceful, considering its political nature.

    Might be annoying though.

    That¡¯s okay.

    She hears some shuffling from her bed as Erick fights something in his dreams. Apparently it was difficult for him to sleep alone in the Sol estate, so Tantra¡¯s decided that they¡¯ll share a room, at least until he can manage on his own. It¡¯s been working fine, although she needs significantly less sleep than he does, and managing her schedule can get weird.

    She didn¡¯t know that mapping out when to sleep would be a struggle for cultivators, but here she is.

    She¡¯s been neglecting the kid since Rakan died, fully focused as she was on vengeance.

    The little mongrel didn¡¯t even complain once.

    A small smile plays on her lips as he tosses and turns, he¡¯s a cute kid.

    Won¡¯t be so cute when he¡¯s dead.

    She can¡¯t protect him, not as Rakan could¡¯ve, so it was her hope that the harem would adopt and care for him. A hope that is now thoroughly crushed, along with so many others.

    That¡¯s okay.

    She¡¯ll just have to teach him, once he can access his Qi, hopefully they¡¯ll have years before they make the journey back to the sect, enough time to get him to foundation if he¡¯s diligent with the control training.

    Maybe not to the degree that Etra¡¯s maintaining though, Tantra doesn¡¯t know where the girl finds that kind of passion. Still, maybe another one of her friends can start the boosting technique soon.

    At this rate Yorin will fall far behind, he barely takes the control exercises seriously. Tantra thinks it¡¯ll take him another year at this rate.

    But that¡¯s fine, his progress will still be faster than most cultivators.

    Tantra turns away from Erick and looks back at the mirror.

    Her hair¡¯s gotten a little too long for her taste, could use a proper trim, maybe Synthia will let her borrow one of the servants? She is a cultivator afterall, even if she¡¯s no longer a Sol.

    And just like that her day is ruined.

    She sighs, just great.

    Well, there¡¯s always training, that¡¯s an effective tool to get her mind off of things.

    -

    Tantra is sweating.

    Not literally, she doesn¡¯t remember the last time she¡¯s sweat anything other than blood, another perk of cultivation. Doesn¡¯t help with nerves though, only a few days into her employment and Synthia¡¯s already taking her on an outing to visit a minor noble in the countryside.

    This¡¯ll be the first time she¡¯s interacted with society after becoming a kin-killer. She can only hope the Kirk¡¯s haven¡¯t heard of her exploits, then again to even act within her assigned purpose requires her reputation, so that hope¡¯s probably futile.

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    ¡°How are your friends enjoying their accommodations?¡± Synthia asks as the carriage rolls down a field of daffodils.

    ¡°They are cultivators, all they care for is training, and you have provided wonderful tutors. I¡¯ve already been a victim to their incessant complaints.¡±

    Synthia lip quirks slightly upwards, ¡°that¡¯s good to hear,¡±

    Tantra nods and lets the conversation die there.

    She doesn¡¯t really know how to act around Synthia, doesn¡¯t fully understand how this arrangement is supposed to work, so she decides to take it slow and safe. Synthia can probably tell that¡¯s what she¡¯s doing, she¡¯s not exactly subtle considering she doesn¡¯t start any of their conversations, only speaking when spoken to.

    It¡¯s been working so far.

    ¡°It¡¯s funny,¡± Ezra says, ¡°you speak as though they are unique in being cultivators when you yourself are training right this second.¡±

    Synthia raises a brow, ¡°Is she?¡±

    Ezra nods, ¡°she¡¯s making a rope out of Qi inside her body.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s simply to stay in practice,¡± Tantra says, ¡°If I were truly training there would be a lot more blood.¡±

    Synthia blinks at her and Ezra chuckles, ¡°see? You¡¯re not so different from us¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not,¡±

    ¡°How do you bleed from manipulating Qi?¡± Synthia asks incredulously, which is new.

    ¡°by pushing past what her soul can handle,¡± Ezra says, ¡°then the body takes on the burden. Few cultivators actually go for that kind of training, considering it doesn¡¯t strengthen the soul much more than regular training.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing it for the control, growing my soul is just a happy accident. Besides, our lives are long, a small difference now could accumulate through the years into a grand gulf.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Ezra acknowledges, ¡°It just takes a special kind of masochist to go through with that kind of regime.¡±

    Tantra scrunches her brow, ¡°I am no masochist, I simply don¡¯t see the point in doing something without the drive to excel.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Ezra muses.

    ¡°Let¡¯s slow down shall we,¡± Synthia gathers herself, ¡°you have been manipulating your Qi the whole ride?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    Synthia stares at her, then gives her a predatory smile that kind of scares Tantra.

    ¡°I knew I was right to hire you.¡±

    -

    The Kirk estate is certainly an estate, and it is disgustingly yellow, carpet, lamps, decorations, even the paintings are exclusively yellow. She assumes that the only ounce of sanity they had went into the decision to have the wood painted red. Tantra wonders how a family with such abysmal taste even exists, it¡¯s almost enough to make her nauseous.

    Other than being felons against fashion, the Kirks are also traditionalists it seems, using soft mats of, yes, yellow, rather than proper seating.

    Right now they are waiting on the top floor of the estate''s pagoda, servants rushing to please the marquis¡¯s daughter and fetch their master. Who is rather late, they¡¯ve been waiting for an hour with nothing to show for it, Tantra can practically feel the irritation radiating off of Synthia.

    ¡°Well, he¡¯s certainly bold,¡± Ezra says

    ¡°Perhaps the word you were looking for was foolish,¡± Synthia replies.

    ¡°Those two are interchangeable depending on the context,¡± Ezra shrugs, ¡°besides, it¡¯ll be all the more entertaining when you chew him out.¡±

    ¡°For you perhaps, I find no pleasure in reminding fools of their place.¡±

    ¡°Could¡¯ve fooled me¡±

    Synthia looks like she wants to grumble, but her noble upbringing prohibits such transgressions against proper presentation. Tantra, for her part, is at least entertained by the dynamic between these two, rather than having to wait for as long as they have in silence.

    She¡¯s also been doing her weaving/breathing exercise, can¡¯t be bleeding on the nobles matts, that would just be rude.

    -

    Synthia, for all her self control and proper mannerisms, looks like she¡¯s about to pop a vessel, the sun is setting and still no sign of the baron, despite the servants continued insurance that he¡¯ll just need a little more time. Tantra is confused by the strategy here, sure coming late is a power play, stupid to do considering Synthia¡¯s rank, but still a power play.

    Snubbing them entirely is just plain stupid, it is as though he is requesting discipline from the Farlagh family.

    ¡°Come,¡± Synthia stands from her seat, ¡°If he has deemed us unworthy of his presence we may as well prove his error in judgement ourselves.¡±

    ¡°This should be interesting,¡± Ezra says as he joins her, ¡°servant! Lead us to him won¡¯t you.¡±

    ¡°But honourable guests, he will-¡±

    Ezra brings his jian to the man''s throat.

    ¡°You seem to be under the impression that I was asking, servant.¡± Ezra says, ¡°allow me to give you a chance to correct that folly.¡±

    ¡°O-o-of course honoured cultivator,¡± The servant stammers, ¡°right this way.¡±

 Ch.77:We Are Not Calling It The Dragons Shit

    In the end, Synthia never got to give the baron a piece of her mind, because as it turns out, he and his family all fled the mansion as soon as they heard a girl with a gigantic scar on her neck was escorting Synthia.

    Turns out her reputation preceded her a little too well.

    ¡°They couldn¡¯t have simply abandoned their duties because of you,¡± Synthia says incredulously as the carriage makes its way back to Ralth, ¡°I was simply going to get the monthly update on our holdings!¡±

    ¡°To be fair it is outside the Sentinel¡¯s purview,¡± Ezra chimes, ¡°he may well have thought you were there for an execution.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s ridiculous! What reason would I have to kill him and his kin?¡±

    Ezra shrugs, ¡°don¡¯t ask me how mortals think, that¡¯s supposed to be your job.¡±

    Synthia groans.

    Very unladylike.

    ¡°Oh, what am I to do now,¡± Synthia grumbles, ¡°I can¡¯t just find a replacement for the Kirk¡¯s, and there isn¡¯t even a war going so a general can distinguish themselves enough to become nobility¡±

    ¡°Maybe they¡¯ll come back?¡± Ezra queries.

    ¡°If they do then I really will have them executed¡±

    Tantra, for her part, finds this both mortifying and hilarious.

    Her presence caused a baron to flee his own mansion, and didn''t even put up a fight! Just gone. This¡¯ll do wonders for her reputation, and she means that with as much sarcasm as she can muster, already she¡¯s the kin-killer, what¡¯ll she be now, the nobility''s personal bogeyman?

    If Synthia wanted her standing to be elevated by having Tantra be subservient to her, then it seems to be working already, in all the wrong ways.

    ¡°Maybe you could grant the territory to one of the Ralth nobles?¡± Tantra asks, ¡°they have many children old enough for the position.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll be fathers decision in the end, but that¡¯s probably what¡¯ll happen,¡± Synthia sighs, ¡°honestly, this was a disaster, the power balance will be out of balance all because of one coward!¡±

    ¡°Maybe we shouldn¡¯t bring her out to the country again, to avoid incidents like these,¡±

    ¡°Thank you Ezra for your inspiring insight, unfortunately , I am in fact in possession of a brain¡± Synthia chides, ¡°If you do that it¡¯ll only cement her reputation as a feral dog.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you want?¡± Tantra raises a brow.

    ¡°To a degree, but not to the point where people think I don¡¯t have you under control!¡±

    Tantra takes offense to the idea of needing to be controlled but she does admit that if they''re going with the image of her actually being dangerous, they¡¯ll need people to think that she¡¯s something to be tamed.

    Like a dog.

    That rankles her something fierce.

    ¡°Well at least we know your idea works?¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°Of course my idea works,¡± Synthia snaps.

    Tantra raises her hands in surrender and Synthia takes a centering breath to calm herself down.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°Apologies, that was undignified of me, the circumstances have made me¡­lose some of my inhibitions.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine my lady, I took no offence.¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± she sighs, ¡°I don''t need any more problems to deal with.

    -

    Qi deviation is rare.

    Many are the paths to immortality, so much lies beyond the streamlined formula of modern cultivation. Some are kept as secrets, reserved for the promising talents of the greater sects, or given as a reward for exemplary service to the empire. A lot are, to put it politely, absolutely useless.

    There there¡¯s the paths that are dangerous

    The pursuit of the deviant paths is one of folly.

    Zon, ever wise swordsman that he is, has decided to embark on one of these paths.

    Core creation he calls it, such a simple name, yet it invalidates one of the greatest tenants of cultivation, that there can only be one core. Yet he always wondered, how is it that divine beasts create a core from nothing? Some even have multiple inhabiting the places that would normally house meridians, so it gave him an idea.

    What if he attached his soul directly to one of his meridians?

    He¡¯s already passed the important parts of connection, he knows how to make the paths.

    He just has to make one of a more¡­ethereal quality.

    Half a decade it took for his efforts to bear fruit, finally making a stable connection between his core and the meridian of his left collar bone.

    A new pathway for the Qi generated to accumulate.

    It immediately exploded.

    Luckily he chose the meridian of his finger so he only needed a few years for it to regrow. The problem was repairing the broken meridian. An arduous process indeed, but it provided some much needed insight into his nascent idea.

    Meridians are rigid, and don¡¯t have a way of expelling excess Qi, so when you attach it to the soul, it¡¯ll simply be overwhelmed and combust. When the core is full with Qi they start to expel Qi into the environment.

    The method newly anchored cultivators use to combat this is to condense it into liquid Qi, which is fine, if slightly more difficult to control.

    But Zon¡¯s core takes months to fill, the size of his soul not able to keep pace with the depth of his core.

    So he did something¡­interesting, he chipped pieces off his soul and used them to repair the meridian.

    The next time he connected it to his soul, it took just a few seconds longer before it exploded.

    So he repaired it again.

    Then it lasted over a minute.

    He repaired it again.

    More minutes.

    He kept on repairing it until it stopped exploding entirely and instead started to grow.

    Now he has two cores, one anchored and the other connected. It doesn¡¯t add much to his Qi generation, but it does add to it.

    If he makes more he¡¯ll get more sources of Qi, solving the greatest conundrum of older cultivators.

    Nothing could possibly go wrong.

    -

    A deafening crack echoes throughout the field, startling a bull from its grazing , it looks around and finding nothing but the humans a few meters away, it goes back to it¡¯s grazing.

    ¡°It¡¯s not very accurate,¡± Koroth comments as he rubs his chin.

    ¡°A simple solution can fix that my sultan,¡± Sara says enthusiastically, ¡°the dragons lance may be underwhelming on its own, but when combined with dozens of its brothers it becomes an overwhelming piece of ballistics!¡±

    ¡°I think I prefer the other one.¡±

    ¡°The dragon''s shit?¡±

    ¡°We are not calling it that.¡±

    ¡°To bad, I made it, I name it,¡±

    ¡°Sara, you are a genius, but I will still execute you for insolence¡±

    ¡°On second thought, you can name it anything you please my sultan¡±

    Koroth chuckles, oh the woes of dealing with eccentrics, if only they weren¡¯t so competent, then he could behead them freely. But everyone has their uses, even mortals. When the fire lance fist saw the battlefield centuries ago, everyone saw it as something useless, but Sara? She came along and proposed to upgrade the conventionally useless weapon, and she actually delivered.

    He approved of her pet project because it seemed interesting.

    If she failed to produce anything with his gold then he could always just kill her.

    Now his country might be the furthest along in technological warfare.

    He just needs to come up with a name other than dragon¡¯s shit, because that might kill his enemies with mirth rather than shrapnel, and he wants their deaths to be painful!

    It¡¯s the principle of the thing.

    ¡°Perhaps we could call it a qunbula.¡±

    Sara blinks, ¡°after your uncle?¡±

    ¡°Yes well, he did have quite the explosive personality.¡±

 Ch.78:Chess With A King

    Manipulating Qi is weird,

    Tantra says it¡¯s like trying not to suffocate while holding your breath, and Erick can¡¯t help but agree. It¡¯s a losing battle, one Erick¡¯s been fighting for a month since his core¡¯s awakened, and it¡¯s immensely frustrating. There were no signs for when he¡¯d be able to manipulate Qi, one day he just woke up with a strange awareness of something inhabiting his heart. He could¡¯ve forced the issue, but Tantra warned him against that course of action, saying it¡¯s more likely to cripple him than not.

    So he followed her advice, as he always does, and now he¡¯s meditating in their room in an extremely uncomfortable stance, trying to hold onto the thread for more than just a few dozen seconds.

    He lets out a high pitched whine when he loses control again.

    ¡°Not bad,¡± Tantra says, ¡°but not good either, I need you to progress faster if we¡¯re going to even start on the control techniques.¡±

    ¡°Yes master,¡± Erick drawls.

    Tantra chuckles, ¡°I am no one''s master, I¡¯m just guiding your first steps on the path. When I¡¯m confident enough in your survival, we can go back to my sect where you will meet the true masters.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the strongest one in our group, and you¡¯re teaching me,¡± Erick points out.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t qualify me Erick, a master student relationship has connotations I cannot fulfil.¡±

    ¡°Like?¡±

    ¡°Well firstly, protection. Rakan¡¯s presence provided a bulwark between me and the greater threats present on a cultivators journey. I can¡¯t do that, I can barely protect myself.¡±

    ¡°But you''re strong,¡± Erick pouts.

    ¡°Not nearly strong enough Erick, not nearly strong enough.¡±

    Erick decides not to argue the point, Tantra has a weird relationship with strength. He can tell she¡¯s constantly training from how she sometimes seems to gain an intense focus, or when she starts breathing really fast. Apparently that¡¯s some sort of gathering method, Tantra doesn¡¯t recommend he tries it since it can change your will, whatever that means.

    Not that he can even start gathering, he can barely sense his own core!

    ¡°So what are the others?¡± he asks.

    ¡°Well,¡± Tantra shrugs, ¡°there¡¯s the wisdom aspect of it all, the emparting of sage advice, I¡¯m not nearly so old nor travelled to be wise. Then there¡¯s the training aspect, I can¡¯t really train you because I don¡¯t understand how to gauge your limits. Rakan was really good at that, probably from his time helping as an assistant.¡±

    ¡°But you''re smart, and I can just limit myself.¡±

    ¡°Intelligence and wisdom aren¡¯t the same thing,¡± Tantra says, ¡°perhaps if I were wise, I wouldn¡¯t have rushed to come home at the first opportunity, and Rakan would still be alive.¡±

    ¡°But then you wouldn¡¯t have met me!¡±

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Tantra chuckles as she ruffles his hair, much to his chagrin, ¡°positives and negatives Erick, that¡¯s the crux of every decision. Being able to properly measure them based on the information you have is a valuable skill.¡±

    ¡°So, what¡¯s the positive in training me?¡±

    ¡°I get to see you survive, little mongrel.¡±

    Erick scowls, ¡°I¡¯m not a mongrel!¡±

    -

    Jorin takes a chisel made from his Qi, approaching the pulsating mass of calcified bone, it radiates heat like a furnace, and with each beat, grows just a little bit larger as his greater dao morphs with his soul. He¡¯s been waiting for so long, and it¡¯s almost here.

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    Finally.

    He takes the chisel and presses it against the shell of bone, manifesting a hammer in his right hand he slams down and chips off a piece. A pain he cannot describe courses through him, enveloping all of who he is.

    That is the sacrifice with cultivation, you won¡¯t get very far if you aren¡¯t willing to suffer, it¡¯s the first lesson they teach the children when they arrive in the sect, pushing them as hard as they do through the exercises.

    But which would be crueler, to be gentle, or to deprive them of the progress they so deserve?

    He takes the chisel and pushes it into the small indent he¡¯s made in the shell, swinging the hammer once again and digging deeper. Every strike is agony, and he can feel his physical body being torn apart as he stands here and chips away at his soul.

    Jorin the guillotine, that was once his title, back when he toured the battlefields of Rikidan decades ago. He was quite popular, consistently ripping off the heads of worthy foes and presenting them to the presiding general.

    It was a different time back then, a time where he relished in the violence because it was all he had, and oh how proficient he was at violence. He slaughtered foes multiple realms above him, because of tenacity or ferocity he does not know, but his fists always prevailed in the end.

    It was a time of glory.

    It was a time of blood.

    It was a time of suffering.

    The chisel digs deeper into the hole, reaching the fleshy portion of his soul, he brings his hammer down again. His heart clenches, he¡¯s dangerously close to going too far, but that¡¯s okay, he¡¯ll recover in the end.

    He always does.

    Now he teaches children in a sect whose name is only remembered in imperial ledgers, only tasting true violence once every decade when the GodBeasts rage and send the lesser creatures into a frenzy.

    But even then he finds no enjoyment, because behind him are the precious lives of his students. He has witnessed so many of them die, often due to his inaction or those of the elders, but what is he to do?

    There is no compromise with the path, they will provide only the aid that grants a chance at survival, not guarantee. He used to subscribe to this philosophy, after all his journey was fraught with significantly more perils than these children, sheltered as they are in a sect.

    He imagines the disciples of the greater sects know nothing of true danger, sitting behind their grand walls in their grandiose cities.

    Is he bitter?

    Perhaps.

    -

    Rokun watches as small flakes of snow fall gently from the sky and intermingle with the mist radiating from his body, eventually reaching and adding to the sheet of death that covers these lands. He likes snow, and has to travel deep into barbarian lands to be graced with its embrace.

    Unfortunately one such as him has a tendency to attract attention.

    ¡°Zanzibar,¡± Rokun sighs, and the sound of windchimes pervades the space, ¡°It has been centuries, when will we end this petty game?¡±

    ¡°When I win,¡± Zanzibar grunts, it is an inverted thing of strange origin.

    He moves his rook two spaces forward as a cavalcade of barbarians cheer him on, whooping and howling for their king.

    Rokun moves his bishop.

    ¡°Checkmate,¡± he says, ¡°again.¡±

    Zanzibar growls in frustration, staring at the board as though it would lay bare its secrets, and the surrounding barbarians collectively let out a groan. This is his seven thousandth and eighty first win, compared to his lack of losses he has thoroughly destroyed the notion that the barbarian king could be in possession of a brain.

    ¡°Again!¡± Zanzibar barks.

    ¡°No,¡± Rokun sighs, ¡°I came here to enjoy the scenery, not to deal with your continuously dwindling ego, I''ve already been quite generous with my time.¡±

    ¡°But we only played fifty games!¡±

    ¡°Fifty is more than enough for you, your regalness.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon Rokun, don¡¯t be like that, this is one of the few times I actually get to enjoy myself rather than having to deal with the buffoonery that comes with being king of this lot. Couldn''t entertain me some more, for old times sake?¡±

    ¡°Those ¡®old times¡¯ involved a lot of you killing me.¡±

    ¡°They were glorious battles, each and every one of them! Don¡¯t tell me you didn¡¯t enjoy the wonderful violence we enacted on these lands.¡±

    Rokun scoffs, ¡°not when I end up dead.¡±

    ¡°Oh stop being a crybaby, the glory of it all was more than enough recompense.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care for glory.¡±

    Zanzibar grunts, ¡°never understood that.¡±

    ¡°Likely you never will, not so long as your mentality is stuck in these lands. Everywhere else glory and honor are just words touted when it¡¯s convenient.¡±

    Zanzibar manifest¡¯s a barrel of ale that rivals him in size, and that¡¯s saying a lot considering the man boasts a height of eight feet, he manifests two mugs as well, handing one to Rokun.

    ¡°At least join me for a drink?¡±

 Ch.79:Chewing Chewing

    Resai doesn¡¯t have a home,

    She renounced it as soon as she was inducted into the Crumbling Stone sect, a humble venture on the southern edge of The Expanse, justifying its existence through the gathering of resources so the old monsters maintaining it all can get that much closer to eternity. Like humanity tends to do, whether mortal or not, It¡¯s a kind of structure designed for efficient advancement. It¡¯s not ever all that predatory, those at the bottom being giver a relatively safe haven to dedicate their time to training, not having mundane worries plague their thoughts like crops or finances.

    In turn they scour The Expanse, searching for precious resources in exchange for merits. It was fun back then, making her puny little friendships, going on adventures through The Expanse bantering and having a generally good time. She truly believed, in her heart of hearts, that cultivation was something beautiful.

    Watching those friends die brutal and pointless deaths disabused her of that notion rather violently.

    She can still see their empty eyes, can still feel their cold, clammy skin on the tips of her fingers, and can still smell the sickly sweet stench that permeated their corpses.

    She doesn¡¯t think they¡¯ll ever leave her memory, despite the decades.

    But that¡¯s okay, she has the memories of before as well, and that¡¯s the beauty of life, isn¡¯t it? Distorted memories of better times helping to push through the cruelty of reality.

    That¡¯s what she¡¯s learned in the end, that a cultivator¡¯s life is only beautiful once you¡¯ve accepted the pain along with the joy. So, she learned, adapted to become something cruel to reciprocate what the world has taken from her

    These thoughts plague her mind often when she delights in the hearts of the dead, a reminder that she is just another facet to the world''s cruelty, and that that¡¯s okay.

    She takes a bite out of her opponent¡¯s heart.

    It¡¯s tough, especially because of how infused with Qi it is, but her teeth are sharp and made to rend through much tougher meat than this. The taste isn¡¯t bad either, like sedated judgement, her dao makes her more susceptible to¡­enjoying the feast, but she¡¯s pretty sure she¡¯d still enjoy the meal without it.

    She always starts with the heart, because that¡¯s always the most delicious. When a person passes their core implodes, forcing the remaining Qi into the heart, all of it. Makes the wonderful little organ a delectable treat to anyone not averse to a spot of cannibalism.

    Sure she could just eat the hearts of naturally born beasts, but most species don¡¯t tend to reach for immortality, so their Qi reserves are pitiful compared to the cultivators she can kill.

    If she can kill them quick then all the better.

    This wasn¡¯t one of those, she actually put up a pretty good fight, had a dao that made Resai numb and sluggish, alongside something electric but also¡­soft? She doesn¡¯t know, dao¡¯s can get weird, especially when they mutate.

    She was even a pugilist, just like Resai.

    What fun it was to contend with martial prowess instead of having to deal with those annoying things of steel and bone, more cultivators should just use their fists, it¡¯s the most honest form of combat.

    Can really feel the struggle when your opponent''s knuckles dig deep in your face.

    She was pretty good too, and got some shots in that Resai will take a while to heal, but she didn¡¯t really come close to actually killing her. Which is a shame, those are always the best fights, blood pumping action and all that.

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    Resai takes another bite of the heart, getting another taste of that sedated judgement. The taste comes through so clearly that Resai¡¯s pretty sure she was ready for integration, if she wasn¡¯t aiming for a greater dao of course, she gets a few of those, but they¡¯re as rare as cultivators among mortals.

    Still, they make for the best meals.

    -

    There is only ever a moment.

    In combat the future and past are just an illusion, and the only thing that matters is the now. Yorin has exactly a fraction of a second to dodge the guandao coming for his neck. He pumps Qi through his meridians and boosts his muscles, ducking as the blade cuts off some of his hair, retaliating with a strike from below.

    The bear of a man, all muscle and nothing else, dodges the blade with a kind of grace that always leaves Yorin dumbfounded, but now isn¡¯t the time, because another strike is coming for his torso. Yorin blocks the blow, and his whole body feels the reverberations of the blow as it barely stops the blade.

    He gets ready to-

    His head snaps to the air as the butt of the man''s guandao makes him see stars, and in the next moment a deep furrow is cut into his torso, causing Yorin to let out a slight scream as he falls to the ground.

    ¡°Better,¡± rumbles the mound of muscles, ¡°I¡¯m impressed you actually managed to dodge the strike going for your neck.¡±

    Yorin hisses as he touches his wound, ¡°Were you trying to decapitate me.¡±

    ¡°I would have stopped,¡± the man shrugs, ¡°It¡¯s not exactly a challenge when we¡¯re barely moving above mortal speeds.¡±

    ¡°But I was boosting the whole time!¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t,¡± the man chuckles, ¡°that¡¯s the fun part, sure you cheated your way to foundation but your body¡¯s still on the level of a mortal, needing to boost just to match me.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t cheat,¡± Yorin harrumphs, ¡°It took a lot of effort.¡±

    ¡°Doesn¡¯t mean it wasn¡¯t cheating,¡±

    ¡°Well you''re like, decades older than me, that¡¯s cheating!¡±

    The man raises a brow, ¡°seriously boy, that¡¯s the best you¡¯ve got? You should take some advice from that girl who can¡¯t finish a sentence without some profanity or other.¡±

    ¡°Etra?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care for her name, but sure.¡±

    Yorin gives a sly smile, ¡°what¡¯d she tell you?¡±

    ¡°That,¡± the man bonks Yorin on the head with his guandao, ¡°is decidedly none of your business.¡±

    ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± Yorin rubs at his head, ¡°don¡¯t be like that, we all have our stories of her¡­pattern of speech.¡±

    ¡°Pattern of speech? Seriously boy? You¡¯re taking too much after the other one.¡±

    ¡°But it¡¯ll get the nobility to respect me!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll take one look at you and decide you''re too stupid to respect whether or not you can say their fancy words.¡±

    Yorin scrunches his brow, ¡°how would they know that?¡±

    ¡°Instinct,¡± the man says, ¡°nobles may have the survival instinct of a dying badger, but their capacity to distinguish people with a glance is downright terrifying.¡±

    ¡°No way they can actually do that.¡±

    The man shrugs, ¡°underestimate them at your own peril.¡±

    -

    The wolf stands on his mountain,

    A regal thing of pale blue fur to complement the snow covered peaks. It stares down at the many cities beneath, growing like tumors and competing like feral pups. It is pathetic, to nip at each other''s heels rather than hunt as a pack, and yet everywhere it goes these things of two legs dominate, only things like him capable of travel without worry.

    He came here to escape their folly, and yet here he finds them again, encroaching upon his territory. This cannot stand, the things of two legs cannot reach his pack, cannot come to his home.

    So.

    It¡¯s time to hunt.

    But how to go about it without incurring the wrath of something he can¡¯t survive? He doesn¡¯t know, but it''s a nice exercise for his mind while he sharpens his claws over the stones and digs his fangs into bones.

    He has to go simple, hunt their strongest, but their strongest are so often behind the walls of their cities, hiding from the horrors of this land like cowards, only exiting when it is time to spill blood between their kind.

    So.

    He¡¯ll have to coax them out.

    How exactly? he doesn¡¯t exactly have anything they desire, he doesn¡¯t even know what it is they desire, strange things that they are.

    So.

    He¡¯ll have to study them.

    Like he¡¯s been doing for decades.

    The wolf lets out a frustrated sigh at this impasse.

 Ch.80:Nice To See You Too Old Man

    Synthia sighs as she steps off the carriage, both personal guards helping her with her footing. Today was a lot, her father¡¯s been giving her greater responsibilities lately, as though to spite her ambitions, but that¡¯s fine, this is just another opportunity to prove him wrong and rise in her station.

    ¡°Come, let us go to the training grounds, I could use some entertainment for the day,¡± Synthia says

    ¡°Funny, my lady¡± Tantra says, ¡°I didn¡¯t know you found me getting beat into the dirt entertaining.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten better,¡± Ezra chimes, ¡°though only marginally.¡±

    ¡°Thanks,¡±

    ¡°No problem,¡±

    ¡°Are you two quite done?¡± Synthia raises a brow.

    They both roll their eyes, ¡°yes my lady.¡±

    Synthia just nods and moves towards the mansion, it is a grandiose thing shaped like a square, with the training field in the centre where all the cultivators, hunters, and guards in their employ fight and train.

    Well, only the cultivators truly fight, being capable of taking as much tremendous damage as they are, but it is entertaining. A guilty pleasure of hers one might say, she doesn¡¯t know the intricacies of combat but she does enjoy the visceral nature of it.

    So Tantra isn¡¯t entirely wrong.

    She does enjoy watching her get beat into the dirt.

    Not that she¡¯ll ever admit that.

    It simply isn¡¯t ladylike.

    As she walks down the halls of her home she contemplates the paintings, her father has an obsession with foci that might classify him as mad if he weren¡¯t the marquis. By proxy he¡¯s a big fan of cultivators. It¡¯s the only reason he approved Tantra, in spite of her reputation even, which has only grown wonderfully venomous as time passes in Synthia¡¯s employ.

    So many delicious rumors.

    All of which will only heighten her mystique further.

    Tantra grumbles behind her.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Synthia asks.

    ¡°Rimi¡¯s in the training area,¡± Tantra growls, ¡°can we postpone this to another time?¡±

    Synthia raises a brow, ¡°absolutely not, your distaste for that woman is juvenile.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s unpleasant,¡± Tantra says.

    ¡°Oh? It¡¯s not at all related to the sect she hails from?¡±

    ¡°Synthia, please, I really don¡¯t want to deal with her today.¡±

    Synthia doesn¡¯t muster the indignity to huff, but it is a close thing, ¡°fine, but I¡¯m telling Domar you want to challenge her in recompense, on a day of your choosing.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°fine¡±

    -

    Goruk watches as his favorite little customer devours her third bowl of noodles with practiced efficiency, being both quick and proper as a man of long black hair delicately sips from his spoon.

    Well, Tantra isn¡¯t so little anymore, but he¡¯ll always remember the brat that demanded he personally make her noodles when she got a taste of splendor, he takes full credit for it being her favorite food.

    ¡°How you eat so quickly and yet maintain decorum will never cease to surprise,¡± Zon says, ¡°where did you even learn to do that¡±

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    Tantra takes a napkin and wipes at the corners of her mouth.

    ¡°Practice,¡± She says succinctly.

    Zon chuckles along with Goruk.

    ¡°Girl, your appetite will never cease to impress me,¡± Goruk says, ¡°where do you fit all that food?¡±

    Tantra raises a brow, ¡°in my stomach¡±

    ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Zon says as he sets down his soup spoon, ¡°you know how Qi enhances things, makes the heart better at beating, lungs better at breathing, and muscles better at moving?¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°As a consequence of being saturated in Qi,¡± Zon points to his stomach, ¡°this wonderful little organ gets better at storing, and digesting.¡±

    ¡°I thought cultivation made it so you need to eat less.¡±

    ¡°It does, but who would deprive themselves of these delicacies?¡±

    ¡°Exactly,¡± Tantra nods, ¡°I couldn''t have put it into better words myself.¡±

    ¡°Oh I''m sure you could have, given time.¡±

    ¡°That would¡¯ve broken the flow of conversation which is downright disrespectful.¡±

    ¡°True,¡± Zon rubs at his chin

    ¡°Wait, do cultivators get fat?¡± Goruk says.

    ¡°Nope!¡± Tantra says, ¡°which is great, means I don¡¯t have to watch my figure, that was annoying¡±

    Zon chuckles a soft melody of harmonized steel.

    ¡°We still can get fat, it¡¯s just a lot harder,¡± he says, ¡°though this one might be taking on the challenge.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my birthday, I can do what I want,¡± Tantra pouts.

    Goruk laughs, ¡°your too old to be pouting now Tantra,¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only nineteen!¡±

    ¡°Which is old enough,¡±

    ¡°Your no fun,¡± Tantra accuses

    Goruk raises his hands in surrender, ¡°apologies oh mighty one, this one meant no offense to your delicate ego.¡±

    ¡°I appreciate every part of that statement except the last portion.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunate,¡± Zon shakes his head, ¡°you cannot take the statement without the ending.¡±

    ¡°Watch me old man.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m only eighty.¡±

    -

    It seems as though the gods are pissy today, if the whipping of the wind is any indication. He¡¯s made this climb plenty of times, but never with a gale as strong as this hampering his progress. It almost makes him want to turn back and wait, but that part of him is a coward, and this is a worthy challenge!

    Nature always proves to be the one obstacle cultivators cannot surpass, but that doesn¡¯t deter Ghomak as he digs his fingers into the cliff face, he has to infuse some Qi into his fingers to dig deep enough for a proper hold, dangling as he is over a drop that could very well kill him, and he still has so far to go.

    That¡¯s okay!

    He¡¯ll survive and tell nature to suck a fat one, it¡¯ll be glorious!

    Okay maybe he won''t do that, no need to accidentally incur the wrath of Temis¡¯forgoth, then he¡¯ll be royally fucked. Funny that, the thought of royalty, only a single the country on Testhim has a proper monarchy. Rikidan does a weird mix of the empirical method while sprinkling in noble classes, and the barbarian lands aren¡¯t really ruled by one king. Sure Zanzibar is respected, but he isn¡¯t followed.

    Then there''s the Triumvirate of Salphora .

    The Sultan is just a monarch with a different name.

    There used to be more kingdoms than could be counted, according to the records at least, and the man he¡¯s going to visit. But apparently Roguth¡¯Karr convinced humanity as a whole that banding together is the better option, in case of another calamity as it were.

    Hasn¡¯t happened in millenia, but the scars are still there, fresh as the day they were made.

    Ghomak¡¯s always found that admirable, the concept of strength in numbers. Sure numbers always prevail against things like cultivators and even divine beasts, but you have to be a certain kind of crazy to be willing to rush to death as one of the first.

    The kind of crazy he can share a drink with!

    Ah, he can¡¯t wait for this climb to be over, he¡¯s got a fresh barrel of pure alcohol in his storage ring that¡¯s just waiting to be opened.

    As he climbs suddenly a weight presses down onto his shoulders.

    ¡°Ghomak,¡± says the falling of delicate snow into pools of magma, ¡°I have told you so many times that visiting is not necessary, and yet here you are, climbing my mountain again.¡±

    ¡°Yes well, what can I say, I like your company, now can you get off my shoulders? I think I¡¯m going to slip.¡±

    ¡°Then both our lives lie in your hands,¡± the man intones wisely.

    ¡°Fuck you! You¡¯ll just reform,¡±

    ¡°It will take many centuries for one of my strength, so it¡¯s basically like dying,¡±

    ¡°More like an extended nap,¡± Ghomak grumbles as he continues to climb, ¡°why are you here anyway, aren¡¯t you supposed to be all sage like on the top of the mountain?¡±

    ¡°I sensed your presence.¡±

    Ghomak looks up at the man with a wide smile, ¡°awww, you missed me!¡±

    ¡°I said no such thing,¡± the man huffs, ¡°but it is nice to see you.¡±

    ¡°Nice to see you too, old man.¡±

 Ch.81:A Knife In Broad Daylight

    Capra and Lutrinae shine like diamonds in the night sky, gracing the eyes of mere mortals with their majesty. Tantra isn¡¯t a mortal, but she can¡¯t help but feel small when under the gaze of the constellations. With her reduced need for sleep, she¡¯s had a lot more time to appreciate the gems that dot the sky.

    Personally, her favorite is Taurus the grazing bull.

    Represents gentleness through strength.

    She can get behind that.

    It¡¯s rumored the constellations were once GodBeasts, ascendant to the stars to join the heavens and its pantheon. It¡¯s funny, the realm to obtain immortality is called ascension, yet it isn¡¯t a true ascension, not in the way that the word is defined. She thinks the naming would have something to do with a cultivator''s ego, they don¡¯t want the last orthodox realm to be something lame like immortality, even though it would be more accurate.

    Tantra only really knows the names of the higher realms, the methods with which to cultivate them remain a mystery to her, and she suspects remain a mystery to the elders as well, considering how none of them are immortals.

    ¡°You know we have chairs,¡± a familiar voice sighs.

    Tantra glances over to see Synthia in her nightgown, walking up to a proper seat on the balcony, crossing her legs and giving Tantra a stern look that causes her to let out a small laugh, much to Synthia¡¯s chagrin.

    ¡°Can¡¯t sleep again?¡± Tantra asks.

    Synthia sighs, ¡°no, it seems the gods are adamant on preventing me from getting any rest.¡±

    ¡°They do have a tendency to be assholes.¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s your propriety?¡± Synthia grumbles.

    ¡°The years spent as your guard have taught me you don¡¯t really care for such platitudes.¡±

    Synthia rolls her eyes, ¡°please, don¡¯t act like you know me.¡±

    ¡°What? Sad I¡¯ve broken through the mystique you''re so proud of?¡±

    Synthia scoffs, but doesn¡¯t comment, leaning back to stare at the stars just the same as Tantra. She¡¯s been joining her in stargazing a lot these days, Tantra doesn¡¯t know what¡¯s on her mind, but clearly it¡¯s eating at her.

    Synthia isn¡¯t the type to share though, so Tantra doesn¡¯t ask.

    ¡°If you¡¯re going to waste your time gazing at stars, you might as well do it with that boy Kisrin, even a blind man could see the way you two look at each other.¡± Synthia says.

    Tantra hums as she keeps her eyes on Capra, ¡°I don¡¯t really want a relationship right now, maybe when we¡¯re back at the sect, but here in Ralth? That¡¯s just a vulnerability.¡±

    Synthia rolls her eyes, ¡°a vulnerability for who to exploit? You don¡¯t have any political enemies, except for maybe your family. Besides, he¡¯s a cultivator, isn¡¯t it disrespectful to implicitly state that he¡¯s weak?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t subscribe to cultivator logic, tends to get people killed.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm, well, you¡¯re not wrong. But still, you get to choose who you love, isn¡¯t that enough to at least try?¡±

    -

    ¡°Look at them, strutting about in the forest like they OWN it, like it is THEIRS, no, nonono, we can¡¯t have that, we can¡¯t allow that. Come, come, rend the muscle from their bones and turn their flesh to gristle.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Rakia growls, something resembling a tiger, if it were maimed and deformed, ¡°not yet , we¡¯re too weak to face him.¡±

    ¡°COWARD¡± a million, million voices clamor in her mind, ¡°years we¡¯ve stalked, years we¡¯ve waited, yet you still refuse? You are pathetic, so pathetic, like a worm wriggling in the grasp of giants.

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    You could try,

    You should try,

    It¡¯ll be better, so much better. It¡¯ll be satisfaction, absolution, RETRIBUTION¡±

    Rakia clutches at her skull, the words that are not words taking a toll on her mind, like an infestation of concept all filtered to her understanding. There are so many, she¡¯s been learning them one by one, adding them as the things that are her but are not continue to speak.

    She doesn¡¯t know how long it''s been since the Rakaja dissolved, when¡­what was his name?

    She doesn¡¯t remember.

    It doesn¡¯t matter when he¡­or was it a she? When they died they left the clan leaderless and it devolved so quickly, many abandoning the clan in search for one of the other prominent players of the DarkWoods, there¡¯s even been a silent war between clans trying to take over the Boreal Pass.

    The sects don¡¯t care of course, they never do.

    What¡¯s a little blood on your doorstep to a cultivator? What''s a little violence to things that are so far beyond comprehension?

    ¡°They are not,¡± the voices say, ¡°we¡¯ve explained so many times. You don¡¯t understand, refuse to understand, it¡¯s why you¡¯re WEAK, it¡¯s why you need us. Depend on us, desire us. We deliver unto you his head but you refuse to take a bite.

    Ungrateful.¡±

    ¡°I am grateful,¡± Rakia whimpers from the pain, ¡°I am, I just see. We¡¯re too weak, still so weak, we need more, so much more. Please, stop hurting me.¡±

    There is silence with that request, blessed, blessed silence, and Rakia takes a deep breath to centre herself, refocusing.

    She digs her nails deep into the trunk of the tree as she watches a group of brats traipsie through the forest with no respect, no care, no fear. She will teach them, she¡¯ll teach them all, she just needs more time.

    -

    There are many methods to murder, cultivators generally prefer to be upfront and boisterous, getting the attention of one and all. Not Sola, perhaps her peers would sneer at her cowardice but she prefers to move unseen and unknown until it is time to strike. Her invisibility technique worked wonders for this purpose, putting beasts and cultivators alike at her mercy.

    It only has one glaring flaw.

    The second she approaches anyone with Qi sense, suddenly her invisibility is a beacon, so she had to come up with a solution. At first she pursued the idea of enshrouding her Qi, so that she becomes truly invisible, but that¡­didn¡¯t work. Qi is either there or it¡¯s not, there is no in between where it can hide, at least none that she has found.

    So she went for a different avenue, one an old housemate gave to her years ago. She practiced her control, and practiced it vigorously, getting to four threads in the span of six years.

    But it was enough.

    She already used little Qi to turn invisible, the act of bending light a more cerebral task then metaphysical, but now she uses barely more Qi than what¡¯s present in the atmosphere, making her nigh impossible to notice through Qi sense if you weren¡¯t specifically looking for her. There¡¯s still the flavour of her Qi shel has to worry about, but when it comes to assassins, she¡¯s probably got the greatest advantage in all of Testhim.

    Why don¡¯t people practice control more often? It makes Qi expenditure outside the body ridiculously efficient if you get far enough, seems like a waste to just leave it by the wayside.

    Well, there¡¯s always the possibility it¡¯s one of those secret paths that older cultivators don¡¯t want to advertise so the younger generation doesn¡¯t grow too fast.

    Crotchety codgers.

    But it doesn¡¯t matter, not to her, she¡¯s not going to start advertising her arsenal after all, that¡¯s just asking for trouble. It¡¯ll also make the culprit of this specific crime patently obvious, and her only saving grace is anonymity.

    She passes by guards and cultivators through halls of redwood with obsidian carpets acting as a sound dampener for her footsteps. There are many paintings, all whimsical imaginings of what the centre of different foci look like based on rumors and the sparse accounts of cultivators who actually bothered.

    She doesn¡¯t know how much these displays of vanity cost, but considering the wealth of this particular family, she doesn¡¯t doubt it¡¯s more coin than she¡¯s likely to ever see. Unless she dedicated her life to hunting, but even then it would take decades, not worth the investment when she could just cultivate instead.

    Eventually, she reaches her destination, she¡¯s reviewed the map plenty of times, and she¡¯s already visited his bedroom, so this could be the only place she might find him at this time. She takes a deep breath, standing in front of a door of redwood, she twists the doorknob ever so slowly and carefully makes a small entrance that¡¯ll just fit her before she enters the room.

    It is a grand thing of books and maps, all arrayed for some madman''s delightfull perusal.

    The madman in question is sitting at his desk, going through some text without seeming to have noticed the slight movement of the door.

    Good.

    She can get this over with quickly then.

 Ch.82:So It Begins

    Tantra is standing in a field of coarse sand, staring at the individual grains between her toes. Tactile sensation is the hardest input to manage with her technique, threatening to overwhelm her concentration and control. The second most is auditory information, she can hear the falling of feet like roaring thunder from inside the mansion, and while she can¡¯t distinguish the words of those speaking, she can tell that they¡¯re there.

    Smell is, ironically, the easiest if you don¡¯t include taste.

    That¡¯s the only sense she¡¯s paired with her Qi senses, so it therefore should provide significantly more information. Instead it¡¯s like the Qi weaves seamlessly with the other smells, making it easier to manage.

    So it does not escape her notice when the subtle smell of spring alongside the sound of a flying blade invades her senses. She sidesteps, preventing the coming blade from decapitating her, and in the same instant she brings down her kanab¨­ at the offending man of navy blue robes

    He blocks with his arm, and is unfazed, as is expected. Tantra goes to strike again but she¡¯s too slow, in that time the man has cut open her stomach, invading her senses with pain. She almost loses control of the thread connected to her heart from the sheer overwhelming sharpness radiating with every pulse of her heart. She can feel the blood leaving her body, and the air mingling with her guts, she can-

    Focus

    She brings her attention back to the fight, just in time for the intense smell of rain to invade her senses, she turns to find a slash of water speeding towards her. Tantra strikes it with her club, causing it to dissipate.

    She recognizes the sound of a blade cutting through air too late as it draws another line of crimson across her back.

    She pushes through the pain with a grunt, a wound to the back being much easier to handle than one to the stomach, despite the heightened senses. She pushes more Qi into her heart, expanding the world further as she arcs her club towards the man in a spin. Stupefied by the sudden increase in speed, he ends up taking the blow head on, digging a furrow into the ground as he tries to solidify his stance.

    The next blow is a grand overhead, too telegraphed to truly be expected to hit the man, instead she uses it as bait, and he bites wonderfully

    Tantra smiles as blood spurts from her neck, and with all the Qi her heart can handle, she retaliates, hitting the man directly on the head.

    Stunned, Tantra takes her opening, boosting her leg and kicking him as hard as she can in the groin.

    The woman watching lets out a hiss of sympathy as poor Ezra crumples to the ground

    Tantra would laugh, or just generally gloat, but she¡¯s writhing on the ground, facing the backlash of pushing her technique too far. She can feel her heart struggle to beat, and her lungs can barely take in air, there¡¯s a fog settling over her mind as she gets progressively more tired.

    She can feel her stomach clenching as she vomits out the days lunch, she-

    A wave of relief washes over her as a hand places itself on her shoulder.

    ¡°That,¡± Ezra says, ¡°was extremely rude.¡±

    ¡°It worked didn¡¯t it?¡± Tantra gives him a cocky grin.

    ¡°I¡¯m the one standing in the end, so no¡±

    Tantra rolls her eyes, ¡°you''re just mad I actually managed to hurt you.¡±

    ¡°If you learned infusion then you¡¯d be capable of that without stooping to the lows we witnessed today.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying,¡± Tantra sighs, ¡°It just makes no sense, making reality acknowledge my kanab¨­ as part of my body is just so foreign.¡±

    ¡°If you actually trained your skill, rather than brute force, perhaps it would be easier to synchronize with your weapon.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you two could go on and on with your cultivation talks,¡± Synthia interrupts, ¡°but we should really bandage those wounds, I will not tolerate you tracking blood in my mansion.¡±

    ¡°Yes my lady,¡± Tantra drawls.

    ¡°Honestly, what happened to your manners? I know you still have them, you''re always so proper when we go on our outings.¡±

    ¡°It gets exhausting putting up a fa?ade, especially when the little nobles can¡¯t even bother to hide their fear.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that the whole point of your employment?¡± Ezra raises a brow.

    ¡°It¡¯s annoying,¡± Tantra grumbles, ¡°it¡¯s been years and they still treat me like a rabid dog ready to tear out their throats¡±

    ¡°All for the better,¡± Synthia says, ¡°the more they fear you, the more they fear me, and fear is its own kind of respect.¡±

    ¡°You''re not very scary though,¡± Ezra prods.

    Synthia scowls, ¡°that¡¯s why I have you two mindless brutes.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± Tantra says, ¡°I have a perfectly functioning mind.¡±

    ¡°Then perhaps it would behoove you to use it.¡±

    Ezra snorts, ¡°damn, you need a healing technique for that massive burn?¡±

    ¡°I have my own, thanks.¡± Tantra says dryly.

    Their banter is interrupted by a deafening scream, now, there are many things you could hear in a mansion of this size. Tantra has run into servants being¡­intimate more than once, and Roth Farlagh has a rather booming voice when he¡¯s particularly angry. Often at Dimis, considering the trouble the boy usually finds himself in.

    But never, ever, should there be screaming.

    Three heads whip towards its source, an open window on the fifth floor and Synthia¡¯s breath catches in her throat.

    ¡°That¡¯s father¡¯s study,¡± Synthia says sharply.

    ¡°Indeed,¡± Ezra replies.

    Synthia stares at the window, where the commotion clamours.

    ¡°Come,¡± she says, ¡°We should see what¡¯s going on.¡±

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    -

    The Farlagh mansion and the Sol estate cannot be compared in terms of scale, both were designed with completely different purposes in mind. While the Sol estate is meant to signify prodigious wealth to any and all who witness its splendor, the Farlagh mansion is meant for a simpler purpose.

    To house the marquis¡¯s family.

    That¡¯s not to say it isn¡¯t large, just in comparison to her old home it would perhaps measure to about a quarter of its size, which is a perk more than a detriment. Means it needs significantly less cultivators and guards to prowl the halls in search of potential intruders. Tantra has seen more than a few thieves lose a hand because they were too foolish or too desperate to see the folly in trying to steal from the marqui¡¯s coffers. She¡­never really liked that form of punishment, considering that most who attempt are inhabitants of the slums.

    But the marquis can¡¯t be expected to donate to every charity case he finds, well he could, he just won''t, no one does. It¡¯s the same reason the Sols prefer to exploit the slums rather than help rebuild them, at the end of the day coin talks louder than empathy.

    Tantra¡¯s never been to the slums, she¡¯s heard rumors of gangs and violence and decided it would be in everyone¡¯s best interest if a cultivator didn¡¯t get involved.

    Worlds just unfair like that, the rich will exploit the poor and the poor will chew through each other to just get an ounce of sustenance. Tantra made her peace with that when Rakan died, funny how that works, it was so glaringly obvious before then

    Her whole rise as a cultivator was unfair, she shouldn¡¯t have even been considered as a candidate for fucks sake, she was physically weak and spiritually crippled, a combination that should have placed her as far from a cultivators life as humanly possible. Yet here she stands, strongest amongst her friends, acting as a guard to the daughter of the most affluent person in northern Rikidan.

    A person who now lays drowned in a pool of his own blood

    Tantra stares in disbelief at the body of what was once Roth Farlagh, his wife Irina staining her robes with blood as she kneels next to him, choking on tears as she clutches at his toga.

    Her personal guard is squeezing her shoulder in what Tantra presumes to be a gesture of consolation, while the marquis¡¯s personal guard just looks stunned at the corpse in front of him.

    ¡°Everyone!¡± Ezra yells with Qi infused lungs, ¡°out!¡±

    A mass of servants scramble their way out of the hall, no doubt ready to spread the word of the dukes passing, as proper servants are wont to do

    Tantra turns to Synthia and finds her with a look that¡­isn¡¯t exactly appropriate for the scene in front of them. She looks like a mathematician trying to solve some grand equation, one where the variables don¡¯t make any sense.

    No one should have been capable of entering this deep into the mansion without being intercepted by the patrols, whether they were mortal or not. It simply¡­isn¡¯t possible. Unless someone could simply appear in the dukes study, the prospects of an external intruder are laughable at best.

    Maybe someone from inside the mansion? That is also unlikely, but not to the same extent as an intruder, they¡¯d just be tremendously stupid to pull a stunt like that considering the Sentinel will be more than willing to burn through her Qi using the polygraphos in interrogating each and every suspect, and fleeing would be tantamount to admitting guilt.

    So who could¡¯ve done this?

    ¡°Galar,¡± Ezra shakes the marquis¡¯s guard out of his stupor, ¡°I need you to go report to the Sentinel, she has to know what has happened before whoever did this can obfuscate their tracks.¡±

    A hint of irritation crosses Galar¡¯s features, ¡°who are you to order me boy.¡±

    ¡°He speaks with my authority,¡± Synthia says, ¡°and right now you are lucky I don¡¯t demand for your head, considering how you have failed your duty, do as he says before I reconsider.¡±

    Both of Tantra¡¯s brows shoot to the sky, did Synthia just threaten the strongest cultivator in the manors employ? Maybe that calculating look was just a mask after all.

    Though that¡¯s not to say it was the smartest thing to do.

    Tantra prepares herself to protect Synthia as Galar growls at her¡­and stomps out of the room.

    Huh, he had a brain behind all that machismo afterall, go figure.

    Tantra breathes a sigh of relief, ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you almost got me killed there.¡±

    ¡°Then you would have done a better job than him.¡±

    -

    Tantra has never seen the Sentinel before, there are only three in all of Rikidan, each stationed at one of the major cities besides Goroka. Rumors surround these beings like maggots surround a corpse, infesting the imagination with things of grandeur and horror alike. Erin, Ralth¡¯s sentinel, has almost survived for a millenia, spending centuries as this city''s prime authority. There are stories of her violence, how she threw herself into a dragons maw, only to emerge from the gore victorious. Her brutality in quelling rebellions is a thing whispered only in trusted company and behind thick walls, how she has a propensity to tear off limbs and scramble guts before her opponents experience the mercy of death. The scrutiny of her judgement is something no sane person would invoke.

    It¡¯s why Tantra let a second assassin come for her before dealing with Tikor, so that there would be solid proof for the Sentinel that her actions were justified. Even then it was a risk, but she wasn¡¯t going to let the man live because of the shroud of an immortal.

    Still, despite all the horrors Erin has inflicted, she is also the reason for the peace permeating Ralth. No cultivator dares to break any of the laws under her purview, for fear of being her next victim.

    Tantra, in all her wildest dreams, never imagined she¡¯d be graced with the sight of two immortals in her lifetime, yet here she is, standing in a line as the woman interrogates each and every resident of the mansion using a polygraphos.

    Tantra can smell the raw meat and tang of iron emanating from the woman each time she infuses the dial with Qi, each person going through an intense barrage of questions before she is satisfied. Which confuses Tantra, shouldn¡¯t it just be a yes or no question? Maybe she isn¡¯t looking deep enough into it.

    Slowly the line moves forward, a consistent cadence of dread as each resident is inundated with questions by the most powerful entity of northern Rikidan. As she gets closer the smell permeating from the woman gets more intense, and Tantra can see the flashes of Qi as reality warps and bends. It¡¯s only a faint cloud, but it¡¯s there.

    She¡¯d be happy of the indication that her Qi sight is actually existent if it weren¡¯t for the current situation in front of her, it¡¯s something she¡¯s been trying to pair with her Qi senses for a while, being able to actually see a technique being more useful than smelling it.

    But that¡¯s besides the point.

    Her friends aren¡¯t that far back in the line, each being in foundation as they are means they get to be among the first to face the barrage. Tantra doesn¡¯t know if that¡¯s a good thing, on the one hand, getting this over with as quickly as possible does a lot to quell the rising tension in her heart, on the other, she doesn¡¯t want to face Erin without being mentally prepared.

    That takes time she doesn¡¯t have, as Ezra answers her questions and moves on to the mansion with a bow of respect to the immortal, then, once he is out of the way, it is her turn.

    Erin is a short woman, about Tantra¡¯s height, with skin tinged a crackling crimson as she cries a constant stream of blood. She wears a black Toga rather than robes, but the Sentinel¡¯s badge sits proudly on her bosom, wrapped around her neck like a necklace

    ¡°Come,¡± says shredded meat and dribbling blood as she waves Tantra over.

    Tantra complies.

    Two fractured ruby¡¯s scrutinize her form, Tantra doesn¡¯t know how the woman can even see, but she isn¡¯t one to question the capacity of immortals, so she keeps her mouth shut and waits.

    ¡°Kin-killer,¡± Erin says, and Tantra¡¯s heart just about bursts from her chest, ¡°what a coincidence that we¡¯d meet so soon after your little stunt.¡±

    Tantra bows deep to the woman decidedly not commenting that it¡¯s been five years since she killed her brother, ¡°It is an honour that you know my name honoured Erin.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know your name,¡± she scoffs, ¡°I only know you by your title, rare is it for one to so brazenly break my laws yet stand unscathed. I¡¯m genuinely impressed, but I do hope you weren¡¯t the one who did this, that would mar my opinion of you quite dramatically.¡±

    Reality bends as the polygraphos glows, indicating the need for an answer.

    ¡°I had nothing to do with the marquis¡¯s death,¡± Tantra says carefully.

    The marker on the dial shifts a little to the right and Tantra has to hold in her sigh of relief. It¡¯s true, she had nothing to do with it, but she can¡¯t help the anxiety associated with being questioned like a common criminal.

    ¡°Good,¡± says the viscous liquid filling cracks.

 Ch.83:So You Admit To Being A Dumb?

    ¡°This makes no sense,¡± Etra scratches her head, ¡°how in the good name of the gods did everyone pass the interrogation?¡±

    ¡°It means someone managed to sneak in¡± Kisrin replies.

    ¡°But how?¡±

    Tantra paces, how indeed? There are a multitude of methods to get into the mansion, the sheer number of windows are a testament to that, but to do so without getting caught? Ridiculous. It¡¯s not even a case of advancement, there are Qi techniques to shroud the body, her old housemate Sola for example, but those techniques are only effective against those with no Qi senses.

    Not even immortals could escape notice.

    So, apparently a savant¡¯s come to Ralth with the express purpose of murdering nobility, or maybe it¡¯s just the marquis? Who knows, there are too many unknowns. At least they know the weapon used was serrated, that¡¯s something.

    Practically useless but it¡¯s something.

    ¡°Does it matter if we know?¡± Yorin says, ¡°we¡¯re not part of the investigation, and everything we come up with would just be speculation.¡±

    ¡°Your right,¡± Tantra sighs, ¡°it¡¯s just concerning that something like this could happen under everyone''s noses.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Yorin shrugs, ¡°it¡¯s not like this mystery assassin¡¯s coming to kill us.¡±

    ¡°You''re surprisingly cavalier about this,¡± Kisrin points out, ¡°whoever this person is may have made a significant breakthrough in cultivation.¡±

    ¡°Yeah well, I¡¯m not exactly looking to skulk around all sneaky like, so it doesn¡¯t really matter.¡±

    ¡°It does matter though,¡± Tantra says, ¡°this could change the geopolitical landscape forever, whoever gets their hands on this person and finds out how they did what they did could threaten every noble with just a handful of cutthroats.¡±

    ¡°And even if they don¡¯t find them they know now that it can be recreated.¡± Kisrin adds.

    Tantra nods at him, ¡°indeed.¡±

    ¡°This is stupid,¡± Etra huffs, ¡°we should just get back to training, worrying about mystery assassins is bad for my heart.¡±

    ¡°What, you scared?¡± Yorin teases.

    ¡°Fuck you, you lug of a man, I¡¯m not scared¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡±

    ¡°I will shove my staff up your ass to prove it.¡±

    ¡°Is that a challenge?¡±

    ¡°You know it!¡±

    They both stomp out of the room heading in the direction of the training field, pushing at each other along the way.

    ¡°Those two should just kiss already,¡± Erick says.

    ¡°Boy, did I say you could stop threading?¡± Tantra scowls.

    ¡°No,¡± Erick drawls.

    ¡°Then get back to it.¡±

    Kisrin chuckles at Erick¡¯s grumbling as Tantra glares at the boy. He¡¯s come along nicely in the passing years, needing perhaps only a few more months before he reaches foundation, and then they can head back to the sect. She wonders how the masters will react to Tantra teaching a secret technique to someone outside the sect. Her friends? Sure. But some random kid off the streets?

    She¡¯ll just have to find out, it¡¯s not like she¡¯s bringing the boy anywhere near the DarkWoods as a vulnerable mortal, so whatever consequences come will come, and she has no regrets for the matter.

    ¡°How¡¯s Synthia doing?¡± Kisrin asks, ¡°shouldn¡¯t you be with her, all things considered?¡±

    ¡°She has Ezra,¡±

    ¡°I meant emotionally,¡±

    Tantra shrugs, ¡°I¡¯ve never gotten the impression Synthia cared for her father, If anything she¡¯s probably examining how this might affect the family dynamic, and how she can exploit it to her favour.¡±

    ¡°Still, it¡¯s family¡±

    Tantra goes quiet at that.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she whispers, ¡°It is¡±

    Kisrin places a hand on her shoulder, ¡°just go see her, It couldn¡¯t hurt.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ll watch Erick?¡±

    He chuckles, ¡°of course, can¡¯t let the kid get any rest after all.¡±

    Tantra sighs and nods, ¡°Thanks,¡±

    ¡°No problem¡±

    Tantra steps out of the room, heading towards the western wing where the family resides. It¡¯s a little inconvenient for her guard to be placed in the east wing, but Tantra doesn¡¯t really need to sleep much so It¡¯s not like she uses the room frequently. A lot of nights she just stares at stars from Synthia¡¯s balcony, the girl allowing it because she¡¯s her guard, and she¡¯s technically preventing any intruders from entering with her presence.

    Not like anyone would get that close.

    Well, maybe not before this incident.

    As she walks towards the exit to the eastern wing, she¡¯s stopped by a thin hand placing itself on her shoulder, Tantra sighs and turns to face a slender woman of delicate curves, she wears a robe of black with a white trim, that alongside with the token of a gigantic mouth always puts her off balance.

    Brings back bad memories.

    ¡°What do you want Rimi?¡± Tantra says in a clipped tone.

    Rimi raises a thin brow above her eyes of yellow, ¡°always one for politeness I see.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t feel like dealing with you today, all things considered.¡±

    Rimi shrugs, ¡°well too bad, Doman wants to talk to you, kin-killer.¡±

    ¡°What would the young scion want with me?¡±

    ¡°something about discussing the terms of your employment,¡±

    ¡°Funny,¡± Tantra scoffs, ¡°only a day has passed and already the boy¡¯s trying his hand at power plays? Even the first son doesn¡¯t have the authority to discuss my employment, let alone the third, go back and tell him, respectfully, that I don¡¯t care¡±

    Rimi tilts her head, ¡°you truly think that is wise?¡±

    Tantra shifts her position, manifesting Rakan¡¯s old kanab¨­ in the middle of the hallway, startling a few servants as they scurry to make distance from the scene.

    ¡°We¡¯re all under the same banner Rimi,¡± Tantra says with a dangerous undertone, ¡°there¡¯s no need to be throwing around threats like a monkey throwing shit.¡±

    Rimi smiles, ¡°oh, I wasn¡¯t threatening, just giving some advice.¡±

    ¡°Your advice is both unhelpful and unwanted.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Rimi shrugs, ¡°Let it be known that you were warned.¡±

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    Then the woman turns around and walks down the hall.

    In the same direction that Tantra needs to go.

    Tantra groans as she walks down to the west wing.

    -

    Tantra¡¯s been stuck on six threads for a while now.

    It¡¯s not like she can¡¯t start the next exercise, her soul doesn¡¯t need to be all that strong to try, considering she¡¯d only be controlling one massive thread. That¡¯s something she¡¯s discovered recently, adding threads stresses the soul, but making those threads bigger?

    Barely does shit.

    The second exercise involves putting a decently sized thread of Qi back into your core, keeping it separate from the mass already stored, and pulling out the other side.

    Her control is probably good enough to salvage maybe a tenth of the Qi she uses if about¡­a fifteenth of her core were full? She doesn¡¯t know, she¡¯s estimating.

    But that¡¯s not the bottleneck.

    The bottleneck is her Qi senses

    To even keep Qi from reintegrating with her core she has to be able to differentiate between the two, and it doesn¡¯t help that they¡¯re practically the same. It¡¯s the equivalent of trying trying to find the droplets of water you dripped down a river, technically possible, if only as the tiniest fraction of possibility Tantra can think of. So what is she supposed to do? It can¡¯t be to train her Qi sense, expecting them to be that advanced on the second exercise is just ridiculous.

    There¡¯s got to be a better method to make it work.

    She¡¯s experimented, provisionally, with how to differentiate the two, trying to bend reality to change her Qi.

    Which it turns out is actually possible, if she wants to burn through her entire reserves in about a split second. The first time she did that she literally knocked herself out, when she woke up she was pissed.

    She was almost ready to cleanse another meridian!

    She¡¯s got about a hundred of those now, hundred and three to be specific.

    Since her core was already empty, Tantra decided to just say fuck it and pull the remains of her soul Qi and pushing her collection of world Qi through it, which¡­wasn¡¯t all that bad. She could tell the difference, only problem is she barely has any soul Qi to spare, courtesy of a distant soul.

    It¡¯s a route she¡¯s actually considering, for now, since it¡¯s the only viable option she can imagine, and it makes sense. Someone practicing this technique would have an abundance of soul Qi compared to her, she just has to sacrifice making any progress with her meridians for however many years it takes her to get to the third exercise.

    But she doesn¡¯t want to be hasty, so she just plays around with six threads for now. She¡¯s not even bleeding! If she didn¡¯t get a literal heart attack when trying to pull on seven threads then she¡¯d just stick to the weaving exercises.

    Well, at least the second exercise will train the ethereal portion of her Qi sense, most can only train it by proxy through the pairing of their normal senses.

    As she makes a second pass through her intestines with a six threaded rope, she sighs. It just isn¡¯t a challenge, and if there¡¯s no challenge there¡¯s no progress. Is this what older cultivators have to contend with once they get far enough along the paths? Needing to put themselves into life threatening scenarios just to make an inch of progress?

    It¡¯s not like she needs more control, what she¡¯s decided to call serpent¡¯s circulation doesn¡¯t need her to have finer precision, it¡¯s just¡­she needs progress.

    It isn¡¯t a suggestion.

    It¡¯s a requirement.

    Control¡¯s already proven its utility, beyond even her fancy technique. She can cover her whole body with the scales technique, she can¡¯t manage serpent¡¯s circulation in conjunction, but even being capable of covering her entire body for more than an instant is far beyond the scope of the technique itself.

    All because of her weaving.

    She¡¯s experimented with a few other techniques, but beyond rejuvenation and regeneration, she just doesn¡¯t see the utility. She still can¡¯t get rejuvenation to work, the concept of connecting to her soul with a thread of Qi being too complicated for her puny understanding to manage, but she¡¯s getting closer.

    She thinks.

    It¡¯s all conjecture really, it¡¯s not like she has a master to tell her if she¡¯s actually making progress.

    Better not to think about that.

    There¡¯s also the fact that some techniques are too complex to translate from the traditional brand of Qi manipulation and her free control version. There are ranged techniques but those are largely useless without a dao, and most fights between cultivators are settled in melee combat.

    She¡¯s gotten very invested in cultivation in the past few years, but can anyone really blame her? She hasn¡¯t practiced her financial capabilities on anything practical since she was fourteen, the Farlagh estate being too stingy to part with a few ledgers for her perusal.

    She still dreams of being a merchant, but that dream seems to grow distant as time passes.

    At least she¡¯s learned to at least tolerate the violence, like Rakan suggested, makes her life a lot easier to live that way, but she doesn¡¯t want to just be a thing of violence.

    Doesn¡¯t want to live a life of violence,

    She wants to explore the vast reaches of Testhim, delivering rare goods to all the corners of the world, but that requires investment, and a lot more than the coin she¡¯s been saving. She¡¯s in possession of exactly one platinum, which is the equivalent of a thousand gold, but that isn¡¯t enough to start anything but a middling company. Considering the Jade Sol¡¯s dominance in the market, anything middling won¡¯t survive unless they¡¯re niche and stick to their specific localities.

    The thought of her family causes a familiar ache in her heart.

    She¡¯s seen them, a few times, over the years.

    Hard not to when she¡¯s guarding the marquis¡¯s daughter, each one had a guarded expression and decidedly avoided her, which¡­hurt.

    But she¡¯s gotten used to the pain, and she refuses to regret her choice.

    If it cost her family and potentially her dream then that¡¯s just the way it is.

    -

    The halls of the manor are quiet.

    Tantra is of the mind that no one really gave a shit about the marquis, except maybe his wife and a few others, but appearances still need to be made. It wouldn¡¯t do for a servant to start quipping jokes so soon after his passing, have to maintain the image of subdued mourning.

    Well, Tantra¡¯s a cultivator so she doesn¡¯t really need to play along, but she¡¯s also nuanced in politics, and despite how her manners have devolved over the years she still understands the need for proper presentation.

    She gave the same advice to her friends, but only Kisrin and Erick really took to it. Which isn¡¯t a surprise, Kisrin is smart and Erick is obedient. Surprisingly so for a child of his age, when will his rebellious faze come about she wonders? She just hopes it¡¯s after they return to the sect, the masters can deal with it then.

    Okay, that¡¯s not fair to Erick, he¡¯s a good kid.

    She just¡­laments the childhood he could have had if his parents were still alive. Instead of having to suffer the half-baked wisdom of a bunch of fools. Tantra was hoping Synthia would send tutors for him, but apparently as a commoner he isn¡¯t worth the investment.

    Which is fair, if a little blunt.

    So Tantra¡¯s been the one in charge of his education, all while scouring books to further her own knowledge so she doesn¡¯t languish in her intellect. She¡¯s exhausted the books available to her on trade, so instead she furthers her mathematical capabilities, getting decently on functions and geometry.

    Otherwise she just keeps reviewing her biology books, she¡¯s not the greatest at remembering what everything does, Erick¡¯s actually a lot better then her when it comes to memorizing organs and muscles and the like.

    Luckily for her he¡¯s lacking in the financial department so she can still gloat.

    ¡°But¡­this¡­what?¡± Erick says stunned at the makeshift journal in front of him.

    She might not be able to practice with real journals and ledgers, but that doesn¡¯t mean she can¡¯t make her own!

    ¡°What seems to be the problem, my young pupil?¡± Tantra says, turning up her nose.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that,¡± he grumbles.

    ¡°Do what?¡± Tantra points her nose up higher.

    ¡°That!¡±

    ¡°I do know not to what you refer to,¡±

    ¡°The thing you¡¯re doing with your nose,¡±

    Tantra brings her nose down and chuckles, ¡°alright little mongrel, what¡¯s the issue?¡±

    ¡°This!¡± Erick points at the journal, ¡°why are revenues a credit? Aren¡¯t you making money? And why are expenses a debit?¡±

    ¡°That my young pupil is truly one of finance''s greatest mysteries,¡± Tantra intones, ¡°the answer is to just roll with it.¡±

    ¡°But that makes no sense!¡±

    ¡°Well, think about it this way, if you debit revenues, then what account will you need to credit?¡±

    ¡°The company''s coin,¡± Erick grumbles.

    ¡°Indeed! And if we credit our total coin then?¡±

    He sighs, ¡°then we¡¯re losing money.¡±

    ¡°Except with revenues we should be making money, so to keep everything in balance it¡¯s designed as a credit normal.¡±

    ¡°Financing is stupid.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps it is you who is stupid, and not the subject?¡±

    Erick scowls, ¡°yeah, what''s the point of the gallbladder almighty sage?¡±

    ¡°Bile,¡±

    ¡°And what does bile do?¡±

    ¡°Something with digestion,¡±

    ¡°What exactly?¡±

    Tantra grumbles, ¡°you¡¯ve been reading without me haven¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Erick gives her a cheeky smile, ¡°you just forgot, like you always do.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°I¡¯m better at memorizing formulas and rules.¡±

    ¡°So you admit to being a dumb?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not even a proper sentence.¡±

 Ch.84:Ow, My Head

    Tantra is doing the mind numbing task of acting as Synthia¡¯s guard during one of her gatherings. What are they all saying? Some variation of condolences while Synthia cries her crocodile tears. Just yesterday the girl was planning and plotting, not a tear in sight, now in the face of polite company?

    Here come the waterworks.

    But that¡¯s okay, Tantra can appreciate the hustle, even if it¡¯s for political purposes rather than financial ones. There are a lot of reasons Synthia could be presenting herself as vulnerable to these sharks, none of which Tantra particularly cares for, most of which could end poorly if the woman doesn¡¯t navigate the waters with the skill required.

    But Synthia¡¯s two things, a cold bitch and a smart bitch.

    She knows what she¡¯s doing.

    When Tantra first accepted this job she was worried what the political factor entailed, turns out she just needs to act as she always did, except with the constant backdrop of her title to color every interaction.

    At least for those willing to interact with her.

    Of which are usually fools trying to find an avenue for Synthia¡¯s hand, fools looking to ingratiate themselves in her favor, or the fools who are dangerous. Those Tantra tries to avoid like the plague, but to do so without causing offence can be difficult. Not that she really needs to care, she¡¯s a cultivator, she could act like Ezra, lounging about on one of the tables taking a faux nap.

    She never understood that, why advertise that you''re not paying attention, is he trying to bait an assassin? Especially now, with all the tension over an impossible assassination. The Sentinel is going to every influential house and interrogating everyone, hoping to find at least who ordered the marquis¡¯s death, but that¡¯s been rather unsuccessful.

    Maybe beyond Ralth?

    Could be, but what do they stand to gain?

    So many questions with no answers in sight.

    Doesn¡¯t matter to Tantra, she¡¯s threading, while maintaining an expression of serene indifference.

    She finds that the nobles consider it more nerve wracking than a scowl. She doesn¡¯t really get why but she¡¯s never been one to question good fortune, except when it comes to an actual fortune, then she traces it back to see if she can replicate it.

    Ah, she hasn¡¯t done that in such a long time, her income being quite straightforward in delivery, not needing to meditate on the market, shame that.

    Other than threading she¡¯s also trying something new.

    Her gathering method, while more effective than the standard, still relies on her breathing to gather Qi.

    So she¡¯s been trying to pull Qi directly from her skin.

    It¡¯s had¡­varying success.

    She can gather Qi through a point on her skin, the amount is just pitiful, the method surpassing what her will can handle, and compresses her soul to the point where she starts hearing whispers. As a general rule of thumb she stops there, even if she knows she could push it a little further.

    She¡¯s not in a hurry for strength so it¡¯s best not to take unnecessary risks.

    Other than that¡­she¡¯s just watching the noble ladies quibble, which is, on rare occasions, entertaining, this is not one of those times.

    Tantra has to hold in a groan as another noblewoman goes on a tangent about the marquis¡¯s greatness.

    -

    The arena, one of Ralth¡¯s greatest spectacles. Here all manner of folk, from commoners to nobles, gather to cheer on the tearing of limbs and spilling of guts. Funny that, in the end, what brings the different classes of people together is the prospect of violence, and oh, what violence there is to be had in this place. The multitude of healers stationed here combined with a cultivator''s natural durability mean that the spectacle can reach a level of brutality only found on the battlefield.

    Here cultivators bellow out their war cries and throw themselves at each other in duels or grand melees, competing for glory and honor or some such bullshit. Personally she thinks they do it for fame, not that she¡¯s one to talk.

    This is where her title became popular after all.

    Before, her title was a name whispered only between nobility, among commoners it was a kind of folktale, and they didn¡¯t really care much for it. Sure the murder of her brother caused ripples in all levels of society, but those whose lives are distant from all the grandeur and pomp have a tendency to relegate such things to a forgotten shelf in their minds, only to be recollected once it came time to share stories with the young ones.

    Synthia was far from satisfied with that.

    Tantra had to be known.

    ¡°Here comes another contestant! This one you''re all familiar with, how could you not be with her beautiful displays?¡± A booming voice echoes throughout the arena, ¡°Here she stands for your vicarious delight, this may be her home, but she is a herald of the Serpent¡¯s Fang! A sect on the edge of the DarkWoods, where the only true solace to be found is death, she returned here with one purpose and one purpose only. Give it up for Tantra Kin-Killer!¡±

    Tantra walks into the pit of sand to the frantic screams of the crowd, here a multitude of cultivators stand ready for the impending violence, more than a few giving her glares for her grandiose introduction. She¡¯s never really gotten used to that, and doesn¡¯t think she ever will, it¡¯s just so¡­foreign to her to be excited for the spectacle of gore that¡¯s about to occur.

    Guess the need for blood surpases such mundane things as sanity.

    Most cultivators don¡¯t get introductions like hers, simply walking to the field as the announcer rattles off their name and sect. Some get whole minutes, and Tantra notes them for later, distinct in her desire to not get in their way.

    She¡¯s not the strongest here, not by a long shot, she could play it smart.

    Or she could have some fun.

    She can already tell that more than a few cultivators are eyeing her, which isn¡¯t ideal but she can work with this, just has to make use of the chaos. She doesn¡¯t really like the melee¡¯s, sure with the duels there¡¯s some fun to be had, but here you''re liable to get a surprise dagger in your spine if you''re not paying attention, cultivators not being above foul play in a free for all.

    Finally, one hundred cultivators stand at the walls of a circular arena, all with their weapons manifested and ready for the coming chaos.

    ¡°Are you ready folks,¡± the announcer says to the cheers of so many supplicants, ¡°THEN LET¡¯S GET THIS PARTY STARTED.¡±

    -

    The announcement didn¡¯t immediately lead to violence.

    It never does, it starts with a kind of ritual, where all the cultivators eye each other, measuring opponents and creating silent alliances. Many mortals would balk at the idea of cultivators scheming, but their just as human as the rest of us. None of the participants wanted to pair with her, as per usual, which means she¡¯s going to have to suffer through this alone.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Again.

    Ah well,

    She¡¯s used to it.

    Tantra doesn¡¯t know who was the first to move, someone far to her right, starting a brawl of a dozen or so cultivators as the rest of the arena watches with rapt attention. The person to her right is watching a little too closely, seemingly distracted.

    A bold mistake, but a mistake nonetheless.

    Tantra sends a thread of Qi to her heart, boosting it just a little, and swings her club at a speed that belies the amount of Qi she used. She can hear the satisfying crunch of the woman''s knee as she screams. Now, if there¡¯s one thing cultivators hate, it would be someone who strikes the distracted, which makes it a wonderful way to gather opponents!

    As if to answer her prayers, a guandao cuts through the air making its way to her neck.

    Tantra sidesteps the blow, letting the blade dig into the sand, she lets out a smile as she prepares to strike back at the woman, but is interrupted when a chain whip wraps around her arm and pulls it taut, she grunts as she loses her opening and-

    A blade, going to strike her throat, she can barely hear it, even with her enhanced senses, but it''s there.

    She does the only thing she can with the time she has and raises her free arm, letting the jian cut through muscle and sinew and dig into bone. Her arm screams with agony as Tantra grits her teeth and pushes more Qi into her heart, flexing her arm to trap the jian as she whips it out of the man''s grasp, she manifests her bone jian she got back in Barakan and cuts at the man drawing a line of-

    A spear runs her through the back and bursts through the other side, dangerously close to her heart. Tantra grits her teeth as she is overwhelmed by pain, she isn¡¯t even given a chance to collect herself as the man twists and pulls out the weapon.

    Fuck, she thinks, I need to get rid of this fucking chain.

    She pours more Qi into her heart and the world expands, she¡¯s inundated with the sounds of clashing metal and cheering supplicants, can feel her wounds much more intimately than before, can smell the blood and mingling mint, and can see every inch of the guandao arcing down to split her skull.

    Tantra dashes out of the way, towards the chain wielder.

    He seems surprised by her speed because he¡¯s not prepared for her when she decapitates him with her blade.

    His body disappears with a puff of smoke, sent off to the healers for them to do what their name entails. The healers here are miles ahead of those at her sect, able to reattach limbs and in this case, a head.

    But she doesn¡¯t have time to contemplate that.

    She de-manifests her bone jian and dashes out of the way of a hammer as it crashes into the sand, sending grains flying through the air.

    ¡°Tantra!¡± A man bellows with mirth, ¡°let¡¯s fight!¡±

    ¡°Fuck you Korthal, I¡¯m dealing with some shit right now.¡±

    As though to emphasise her point a jian cuts into her shoulder, stopping at bone. She hisses and and hastily ducks as a hammer barrels its way towards her skull, missing her and crunching through mister jian in a way that makes Tantra wince with sympathy.

    She¡¯s been on the receiving end of that more than once.

    ¡°That¡¯s okay!¡± Korthal laughs, ¡°we can fuck them silly than beat each other to death after!¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Tantra compromises, ¡°just watch where you''re swinging.¡±

    Korthal lets out a happy squeal that might have been cute if it didn¡¯t come from a behemoth, Tantra lets a slight smirk plaster itself on her face as Korthal rushes towards miss guandao, she has no idea the pain she¡¯s in for.

    The sound of sandals scuffing sand recenters her to her current predicament, twisting out of the way of a spear and swinging her kanab¨­ at his wrist, breaking it as the spear wielder lets out a grunt.

    He doesn¡¯t let go of the spear, instead slashing it across Tantra¡¯s torso, letting a line of blood mark her as the jian wielder regains his bearings and charges back into the fray. Dealing with two is much easier than dealing with four, especially since these chumps don¡¯t seem to be in possession of any techniques at least none that she can see.

    Her club comes down in an overhead that jian dodges, whipping out his blade to mark her arm again. Tantra sidesteps a spear thrust and swings for jian again, this time infusing the Qi in her blood with motion.

    They still manage to dodge.

    Tantra grits her teeth as she dashes away before the spear can run her through, creating distance to collect her thoughts. The arena is still filled with cultivators, but at least half have been sent to the healers by this point, and it¡¯s been perhaps a minute. That¡¯s just the way it is, cultivators can move fast so despite their durability the fights tend to end fast too, especially in the lower tiers that Tantra¡¯s fighting in.

    That¡¯s okay, the arena goers still have plenty of free for alls, duels, and beasts to delight in before the day is over. Plenty of blood to go around, and she¡¯s taking too long spilling hers. Emphasised by the axe that splits her skull before she can even react.

    What?

    Tantra¡¯s vision goes strange, colors melding with sound melding with smells melding with everything. Something is dislodged from her skull, and all her senses scream at her as another thing of danger comes for her head.

    She blinks at the spearpoint as it slowly makes its way for her eye.

    Hmmm¡­spears.

    Pointy things, Kisrin likes them, and Kisrin¡¯s a pretty cool dude.

    Generally a bad idea to let it go through your eye.

    Tantra pushes the most Qi into her heart and the world stops. Well, not really, but it might as well from her perspective. You see, enhancing your senses to the degree Tantra just did doesn¡¯t really slow down anything, but it enhances reaction time, processing power, and instinct to a degree where the difference doesn''t really matter.

    Funny, normally so much information would break her concentration.

    The harmony between senses seems to be softening the blow.

    She should jot that down for later.

    After she shits on these fools.

    It isn¡¯t an instant, it is less than an instant, and the spear wielder''s head pops like a melon, ah melons, she could go for some of those right now. Very juicy, very delicious and somewhat nutritious? She doesn¡¯t know, not something she studied, but it sounds right.

    Or does it.

    Hmmmm¡­later, she¡¯ll think about that later.

    She¡¯ll think? Is she thinking? She thinks she¡¯s thinking, would be weird if she wasn¡¯t with all the noise in her head, or is that the arena? Probably the arena, but that¡¯s okay, she knows just how to reduce the noise!

    Her kanab¨­ crashes into mister jian¡¯s torso, and Tantra can hear the squelch as ribs pierce through his heart, he disappears of course, can¡¯t let him die! Not a very good business model to let your main attractions actually die, and Tantra knows all about business.

    Like the current unfinished business she has with Miss Axe lady.

    ¡°You fucked up my head,¡± Tantra slurs, ¡°that¡¯s rude.¡±

    Miss Axe just stares dumbfounded as mist from both her little allies flies to the sky, the look on her face is pretty funny, so Tantra can¡¯t help but giggle.

    ¡°How?¡± The woman says, ¡°how did you do that?¡±

    ¡°Oh you know,¡± Tantra replies, ¡°just a technique, I''m pushing Qi into my heart! Well, that¡¯s not everything but you''re rude so you don¡¯t get to know, anyway, I¡¯m gonna pop your head now, okay?¡±

    The woman raises her shield, fully on guard-

    Tantra is behind her and does exactly what she said she would do.

    Damn all this blood is fucking with her vibe.

    Tantra looks around, Korath seems to be done with his opponent, and is smiling wide at Tantra, Tantra smiles back and rushes the man.

    -

    ¡°That was idiotic,¡± Synthia chides, ¡°we agreed you wouldn¡¯t do anything dramatic!¡±

    ¡°Hey, I got an axe to the brain, I wasn¡¯t exactly thinking straight,¡±

    ¡°One wonders if you were thinking at all,¡±

    ¡°Funny that¡¯s actually one of the-¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±

    Tantra chuckles, ¡°c¡¯mon, don¡¯t be like that, all the nobles will shit their pants when they see me now!¡±

    ¡°Not when you get your ass handed to you in the higher brackets,¡± Ezra says, ¡°I assume you can¡¯t maintain that kind of boosting when you''re thinking straight?¡±

    Tantra scratches her cheek, ¡°no, not really, too much sensory information, and the second I let go I¡¯ll be sent straight to the healers.¡±

    Ezra nods, ¡°So we¡¯re going to have to work on that if we want you to stand any chance next time around.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°okay, but it¡¯s going to take a while.¡±

    Synthia shrugs, ¡°We can postpone your next showing for a few months.¡±

    Both Ezra and Tantra give Synthia incredulous looks.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Sometimes I forget you know nothing about cultivation,¡± Tantra muses, ¡°if it only took a few months for me to be capable of the display we just witnessed on command, then immortals would be capable of leveling countries.¡±

    ¡°Well, excuse me,¡± Synthia says, ¡°I¡¯m busy trying to manage important things, like navigating my fathers death.¡±

    ¡°Fair,¡± Tantra shrugs, ¡°but you¡¯ve had years to get some understanding of how cultivation works.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t care for it,¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure,¡± Tantra rolls her eyes.

 Ch.85:Ive Just Got This Feeling

    Rare are the occasions that Tantra can indulge herself, most days filled with either guard duty or training, giving life a rather dull cadence.

    But¡­It¡¯s a tune she¡¯s danced enough to become familiar. Synthia¡¯s little puppet, a small piece in a grand game she¡¯ll never understand. But she doesn¡¯t care, all that matters are her friends, and Tantra¡¯s position grants them benefits that can¡¯t be found easily elsewhere. What does it matter if she has to suffer through some politics?

    What does it matter if she suffers at all?

    Tantra raises her chopsticks to her mouth and blows on her ramen, beginning her meal as she watches the crowd below going about their own journeys, ones that Tantra will likely never understand. She often wonders what life would be like as a peasant, would she be happy with the simplicity of it all?

    Maybe, maybe not.

    To many the eternal path is seen as a privilege, to Tantra it is a yoke, dragging her down as she pushes forward all the same, bringing the burdens of the past into the present like some sort of temporal mule.

    Technically that isn¡¯t even an impossibility, just highly unlikely, considering that kind of enlightenment requires deep contemplation not present in the mind of simple beasts.

    But that¡¯s besides the point

    She often muses on what her life would look like if things were just different. Many are the possibilities that define us, but only one set of circumstances, choices, and actions can encompass who we are. What would life look like If Yorin never reached out to her? Would she still be a part of her family if Rakan hadn¡¯t died? Could she have pursued her dream uninterrupted if her father never sent her to the sect?

    All pointless speculation in the end, the past remains set in stone, uncompromising in its scripture, and all those who walk in the present can only build on what already was, despite the cracked foundations.

    Tantra does her best, but she¡¯s afraid, truly afraid. Five years have passed and nothing, just¡­routine and training. Now the marquis¡¯s dead, and yet it¡¯s all so peaceful, the eldest preparing for the funeral as the rest take their time to grieve and/or plot under the changing political climate.

    For some reason she feels like an ant, watching as the boot of a giant slowly crashes atop her, in spite of all the silence. Tantra doesn¡¯t believe in fate, but something is coming, she can feel it in her bones as it rattles through her ribcage.

    Slowly, she finishes her ramen and sets down her chopsticks, turning away from the crowds below to face the man in front of her.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been silent for quite a while,¡± Zon says, ¡°mind sharing your thoughts with your venerated senior?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not from the same sect,¡± Tantra points out.

    ¡°Yet still you seek my wisdom,¡± Zon says, ¡°I¡¯d say that qualifies me.¡±

    Tantra stares at Zon¡¯s eyes of matte grey, and she¡­sighs.

    ¡°It¡¯s stupid,¡±

    ¡°Plenty of things are stupid, doesn¡¯t mean they shouldn¡¯t be said.¡±

    Tantra chews on that for a moment, looking back at the crowds below.

    ¡°Do you think we¡¯ll ever manage to relate to them?¡± She asks, ¡°to their jubilation and tribulations? Or are we so far gone that such things are incomprehensible to us.¡±

    ¡°The peasants?¡±

    ¡°Mhm¡±

    Zon shrugs and gives her a so-so gesture.

    ¡°There will be things we can¡¯t understand, by nature of being cultivators, but there are things we can relate to. Emotions are a universal language, and so long as you keep an open mind, you might find plenty of common ground with common folk, despite the vast gulf between us.¡±

    ¡°Twelve years I¡¯ve spent as a spoiled scion,¡± Tantra says, ¡°another seven I¡¯ve spent as a cultivator, what common ground can I find with them?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still human Tantra, no matter how much our peers claim otherwise, that¡¯s where you can start.¡±

    Tantra lets out an unsatisfied sigh, ¡°okay.¡±

    ¡°What brought this on? I never took you for the time who cared much for the trifles of servants or peasants,¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Zon says, ¡°you¡¯re pretty brusque when interacting with them, which doesn¡¯t exactly scream a desire for connection or empathy.¡±

    Tantra blinks, ¡°am I really?¡±

    Zon shrugs, ¡°from the few times we¡¯ve enjoyed each other''s company I¡¯ve got to see glimpses. That¡¯s not a bad thing mind you, you¡¯re still kind, which is more than can be said for many cultivators.¡±

    ¡°Well, thanks, I guess.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s my pleasure,¡± Zon says, ¡°but I have a feeling that¡¯s not everything that mind of yours has been churning up.¡±

    Tantra sighs, ¡°no¡­I get this feeling like something¡¯s going to happen, something bad.¡±

    ¡°Because of the marquis¡¯s death?¡± Zon ventures.

    Tantra nods,

    ¡°How delightfully ominous,¡± Zon says, ¡°you know I have a friend who¡¯s rather close to fate, likes to venture around Testhim, see the sights as it were. Generally the advice I¡¯d get from him is to not ignore those feelings.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t believe in fate,¡±

    ¡°Well you should, it¡¯s rather real and doesn¡¯t quite care for your belief.¡±

    Tantra huffs, ¡°what could even happen in Ralth? We¡¯ve got a Sentinel!¡±

    ¡°Who knows,¡± Zon shrugs, ¡°you''re the one with fate knocking on your door.¡±

    ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d say my worries were baseless.¡±

    Zon chuckles, ¡°then you came to the wrong cultivator honourable junior, I¡¯ve seen too much to dismiss possibilities¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Tantra groans, ¡°that does so much to ease my troubled mind.¡±

    ¡°To be fair, I never said I would do that, I¡¯m just an ear to listen and a mouth to give wisdom.¡±

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    ¡°And what incredible wisdom you¡¯ve given,¡± Tantra grumbles

    Zon chuckles the light note of a flying blade.

    ¡°Well perhaps I could lighten the load on your other worries?¡±

    -

    It may come as a surprise, but Etra isn¡¯t really a fan of chaos.

    She came to this conclusion the first time she walked Ralth¡¯s streets, not long after Tantra killed her brother. There¡¯s so much space, but it¡¯s not enough for the cavalcade of humanity that marches these streets of cobblestone and hawking vendors. She¡¯s not even in the market square, yet there are so many touting their wares that it¡¯s becoming nauseating.

    She misses the serenity of her village, sure, she didn¡¯t have the luxuries that she does now, but there she could¡¯ve walked the streets as a form of stress relief. If she tried to do that here she¡¯d be touched in the head, making her appreciate meditation since it became her only avenue for peace.

    So why then does she walk through Ralth, if the mere act is so cumbersome?

    Simple, she has someone she wants to see.

    But that can wait for when she gets there, walking down to the northern road as the crowds become more¡­not dirty, rough maybe? The people here are on the bottom of the food chain, and considering how long that chain is, that¡¯s a massive drop. Wearing what could charitably called robes, along with a few that possess sandals, but not all.

    Many are barefoot, calloused feet slapping stone as children run and play.

    Or steal, they also do a lot of stealing.

    But it¡¯s for the ultimate purpose of filling bellies, so they can keep their hands. Besides, it¡¯s not like they can steal from her artifact. A small ruby necklace sitting on her bosom as she walks through the progressively deteriorating streets. She can hear the sound of a beating not far away, and decidedly chooses to ignore it, she learned long ago that interference only tends to make things worse.

    Can¡¯t stay in this place to police things all the time, and those she helps just get a target painted all over their backs, ready for whichever gang she beat the shit out of to get their retribution.

    She wonders what¡¯s the point of this place, is it where the forgotten are gathered? Or is it where they¡¯re abandoned? Could be both, probably both.

    Isn¡¯t that just sad? Not a few hours away lies the mansion she¡¯s called home for the past five years, with all its decadence and pointless grandeur, and yet here there are those who struggle to find something to protect them from the rain, where children roam the streets like stray dogs looking for an easy kill.

    Oh, and there¡¯s the actual dogs.

    They¡¯re pretty cute, not when they bite, but she¡¯s a cultivator, their bites don¡¯t really do shit to her.

    As she walks through RendingClaws territory, she starts to get a few gestures of acknowledgement, but no greetings, no one would dare to inundate her with their words. Not after what she did to that upstart and his groupies not so long ago. It was an accident, she forgot how much stronger she was than a mortal, and ended up crippling each of them, cursing them to a life of begging forevermore.

    She drops a coin into their bowls every now and then, but the scowls she gets tells her she hasn''t exactly been forgiven. To be fair, they did try to shake down a cultivator, not the smartest move of all time, though she hadn¡¯t completed her foundations yet, she was further along than they were.

    Add proper training and a scared girl to that combination and you get a right beating.

    Shame that, real shame.

    She stops in front of an unassuming shack, takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. There¡¯s scurried shuffling as Etra assumes a few of them find their little hiding spots for an ambush in case it were someone¡­unwelcome.

    ¡°Who is it,¡± Says voice making a pathetic attempt at sounding intimidating.

    ¡°Open up you little shit,¡± Etra says, ¡°I¡¯ve got gifts to give the local street rats.¡±

    There are a few gasps from the shack, and the boy on the other side hurriedly opens the door to reveal a dark mop of unruly hair to match a gaunt face scuffed with dirt.

    ¡°Etra!¡± He says with a wide smile, ¡°we thought you forgot about us, you were gone so long!¡±

    ¡°Got busy,¡± Etra says.

    ¡°With what?¡±

    ¡°Idiot,¡± another boy says as he walks in line of the doorway, ¡°the marquis¡¯s fucking gone to the grave, she¡¯s probably dealing with all the stupid shit that comes with that.¡±

    ¡°The marquis¡¯s dead?!?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re a godsdamned dumbass.¡±

    Etra chuckles at their antics, ¡°gonna let me inside.¡±

    Two pairs of arms grab the boys and drag them out of the way.

    ¡°Of course Etra!¡± The twins chirp.

    Etra shakes her head with mirth and enters their little shack, taking a seat in the centre where half a dozen children sit in front of her in a half circle, eye¡¯s sparkling at their own personal folk hero.

    Etra never liked that, but when she told them to tone it down it only seemed like they became more¡­fanatical?

    Tantra¡¯s better with words than she is but that sounds about right.

    ¡°So?¡± Etra says in the quiet, ¡°you gonna keep a girl waiting?¡±

    The second boy seems to shake off his bedazzlement and is the first to provide an answer.

    ¡°The RendingClaws and BlackWolves aren¡¯t fighting anymore, claws¡¯s fucked em up good, sent ¡®em back to their den.¡±

    ¡°Good gods Milo,¡± one of the twins says, ¡°¡®sent ¡®em back to their den¡¯, really? How long you practice that?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t practice shit¡± Milo grumbles.

    ¡°Suuure.¡±

    Etra clears out her throat and they stop their banter.

    ¡°While it¡¯s good to know it¡¯ll be safer here, I was more curious about your progress cultivating.¡±

    The entire room groans.

    Etra snickers, ¡°I take it you haven¡¯t made it to three threads yet?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s too hard,¡± a girl complains, ¡°It¡¯s like trying to do three things at once!¡±

    ¡°Yeah!,¡± the boy who opened the door for her says, ¡°can¡¯t you teach us something easier? Like some grand cultivation technique or something?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Etra says, and they all perk up, ¡°once you get to three threads.¡±

    Etra can¡¯t hold back the chuckle when they all glower at her expert social parry.

    ¡°C¡¯mon ya brats, you really expect me to just hand you something that¡¯ll breeze you through foundations for free? What I¡¯m going to give you is dangerous, and you need to be able to make a decently sized rope out of three threads before I can even consider telling you.¡±

    ¡°We know,¡± they all groan.

    ¡°The fact you keep asking tells me you don¡¯t¡±

    ¡°No, we get it, it¡¯s just¡­hard,¡± the second twin says, ¡°we can leave this place once we become strong, like you.¡±

    ¡°Might be leaving sooner than you think,¡± Etra says, ¡°Tantra looks like she¡¯s planning to head back to the sect, when we go I¡¯ll bring you all along.¡±

    ¡°I assume that means you¡¯ve told Tantra about us?¡± Milo stares at her accusatory

    Etra scratches her cheek, ¡°I¡¯m working on it?¡±

    They all give her flat looks.

    -

    Yorin can feel Qi,

    Only a little bit, but whenever his mentor uses a technique there¡¯s a slight pressure on his skin, telling him both direction and intensity. It¡¯s¡­not very useful frankly, at least not for those on his level, who can barely match Quo in output.

    Otherwise it¡¯s decent at giving him information when he¡¯s holding onto something or someone. He can actually measure Qi stones! At least in relation to each other, not that it matters, he¡¯s not traveling to the Barbarian lands anytime soon, and otherwise it¡¯s kinda useless in combat.

    But you¡¯ve gotta look at the positives!

    His Qi senses actually paired with one of his mundane senses, that right there is a milestone worth celebrating. Sure he has four others to go-but he¡¯s not worried, cultivators live a long time after all, and Qi sense is one of those things that just comes with time.

    What he is worried about, as has become standard, is Tantra.

    Specifically how she¡¯s writhing on the ground.

    ¡°Tantra,¡± Yorin whines, ¡°not again, you said you¡¯d wait!¡±

    She responds in a series of choked coughs that tell Yorin little to nothing, but to be fair he didn¡¯t expect her to actually talk back to him, that circulation technique of hers is scary. Which is weird because it doesn¡¯t actually have anything to do with circulation, you know, the process of filling the body with Qi?

    Apparently Tantra gave it the name serpent¡¯s circulation because of the circulatory system or some such nonsense. Circulation is circulation! Not¡­whatever it is the heart does. But the word does make sense in both contexts¡­hmmm.

    Later, he¡¯ll think about it later

    Right now he has to stop Tantra from choking on her own vomit.

 Ch.86:It Started With A Scream

    Adamite is a curious crystal, by all means it has no greater properties compared to its cousins in the rare mineral trade, and its creation isn¡¯t anything special either. Oxidized in zinc-copper deposits, and yet it is so very precious.

    It is the emperor''s jewel, found in the depths of The Expanse, where only immortals dare tread, its rarity precipitating its ridiculous price. Few are the nobles that carry jewellery with even a hint of the mineral, Erin has only seen it a few times, each instance it was a different color, with green being the most common, and the one that¡¯s used to mint coins.

    Adamite coins are pointless in common trade, there is nothing so expensive that it would require its spending, but they serve as a kind of reserve to the empire¡¯s treasury. In all of Rikidan there are only a dozen minted adamite coins, carved with arrays so complex only the great script masters could even begin to understand them, all to prove their authenticity. Half of them sit in the coffers of Goroka, while another two lie in Zarkan, the rest being scattered across the empire in their respective kingdoms.

    One sits in Erin¡¯s palm, light as a feather yet heavy with purpose.

    It is both a gift and bribe, given to her through a simple letter, the courier unlikely to have recognized the wealth he was carrying, else he¡¯d have long fled Ralth, becoming the richest individual besides the emperor himself. She¡¯s genuinely surprised the Jade Sol was in possession of one, not all of them are accounted for, but she was pretty sure none lied within the reaches of Ralth.

    This small, unassuming, translucent coin, rolling between her fingers with reverent grace, represents hundreds of millions of gold.

    Around thirty-five hundred thousand platinum, to be precise.

    Platinum is something only carried by nobility and cultivators, and even then it¡¯s a surprise to reach more than a few hundred at a time, it is for greater contracts and deals and is in no way traded lightly. The metal itself isn¡¯t that rare, but its value doesn¡¯t depend on its own rarity, set at exactly one thousand gold no matter the abundance.

    It too has scripts, so counterfeits aren¡¯t an issue.

    The marquis¡¯s house probably has around a few thousand platinum, and she was under the impression the Sol clan was the same, not nearly enough to possess an adamite coin, certainly not enough to simply hand one to her with the care of a drunkard.

    She¡¯s served for a long time, eight hundred and fifty six years, almost a third of Jorik Theokal¡¯s reign as emperor. In that time she has seen many things, she¡¯s seen wars, famine, disease, and so much more. She¡¯s quelled six rebellions with her blood alone. She¡¯s killed immortals permanently, when they present an issue to the empire. She¡¯s overseen times of prosperity and times of hardship.

    She has seen Adamite a few times.

    Only once before did she ever have a coin in her grasp, to do with as she pleases. Funnily enough the previous one was given to her by a merchant clan that has long dissolved, for largely the same reasons the Sol clan is giving it to her now.

    Do not interfere, such a simple request that¡¯ll lead to such disastrous outcomes

    Her fragmented vision looks over the precious coin, examining it in all its opulent glory, tears streaming down her cheeks and staining it with blood.

    MY BLOOD FLOWS FOREVER

    That mutation¡¯s been rather inconvenient once it integrated into her body, she has to be cautious when handling documents or missives, so the papers aren¡¯t stained with crimson. Unfortunately, this also means she tends to track blood in the little pagoda the emperor gave her to oversee the peace of this city.

    A peace she now has to weigh against an adamite coin.

    The last time she did this went catastrophically, but she had more than enough coin to rebuild and bring prosperity to the city once the dust was settled, a kind of prosperity Ralth hasn¡¯t seen in centuries.

    All because of one simple bribe.

    It¡¯s so light, yet so very heavy.

    -

    Revolution.

    Such a simple word, such a dangerous word. It denotes the spilling of blood, the screams of babes, and the deconstruction of society as it is understood. A few have happened in Ralth, all of them brutal, where nobles were hung to wagon wheels, limbs broken and left bleeding for the crows. Where peasants were culled by cultivators and knights alike, captured if need be, only to be tortured for no discernable goal but satisfaction. In each revolution the Sentinel has been there to stem the tide, to prevent a catastrophe from turning into an outright scene from the hells.

    But there was one where she didn¡¯t interfere, where nobles and peasants alike called on her name and she ignored them. It is known today as the year of demons, because so much suffering was present that it summoned true demons from the hells, grey things of horrific shapes and violent disposition. There have only ever been a few in Rikidan, during the great wars, times of famine, or, as previously stated, a revolution.

    They always bring so much death, joining in the suffering so that it might multiply.

    Revolution isn¡¯t something to be taken lightly, not at all.

    It is a thing of death and destruction.

    Yet it is also a tool for change

    Doman¡¯s only fifteen, barely a blip to some, but even he can see the pervasive need for change amongst not just the nobility, but the peasantry. To an outside observer Ralth may seem prosperous, if only taken at a glance, but it is a place of rot so deep it infects its bones. Coin is the only king here, any tragedy can be waved away with just a few coins, and not to the victims. Doman likes to explore the city with Rimi, pretending that he was some sort of servant to the cultivator girl. At first it was out of curiosity, to see the grand thing that house Farlagh rules over in all its splendor.

    It was the first time he bore witness to an execution.

    She was a young woman, barely older than Doman is now, she had wavy auburn hair and puffy brown eyes, she was crying and begging so much as the soldiers tied ropes to her ankles and wrists.

    All it took was two strikes from a whip, and the bulls trudged along, tearing her in half. That wouldn¡¯t be the last time he¡¯d bear witness to human entrails. There was so much cheering from the crowds, like a starving mutt being given satisfaction.

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    It¡­shocked him, how could such a grand place as Ralth resort to such barbarism? Surely there must have been a reason, must have been some justification for such a brutal execution.

    Turns out there was.

    The woman was a prostitute, and she bore the bastard child of his father.

    The child died a more humane death, slit through the throat as it were, when he confronted his father about this he didn¡¯t seem to care, brushing off Doman¡¯s trauma as though it were the tantrum of a child.

    As though he were weak for caring.

    His image of an honourable and dedicated noble caste was shattered that day, as it was with every consecutive visit to the streets of Ralth. So much time spent playing politics and hosting asinine tea parties while those on the streets of the city they rule suffer and die, so much pageantry to hide the apathy inherent with power.

    No more, there must be laws, there must be order.

    His father¡¯s surprise death has given Doman an opening to do just that.

    This city cannot be a playground where the nobility are free to do as they please and the peasantry is forced to gnaw on the scraps. Not when the Farlagh estate alone has enough power and coin to solve so much of the hunger, so much of the deaths.

    He refuses for any more.

    He¡¯s signed the death warrants of so many of his kin, and so many others, all for the sake of a true prosperity, of something to be proud of.

    There¡¯s just so much suffering.

    So Doman has to do this, it¡¯s nothing so benign as a choice, all his siblings are too focused on their scheming to focus on what matters. That leaves him, he has to correct the course this city¡¯s set for however long now, he has to end the suffering.

    Even if it¡¯ll bring so much more before it gets better.

    Even if he had to sign a contract with the devils themselves.

    So why doesn¡¯t his foot stop tapping against the wooden floorboards like an ineffectual hammer? Why do his hands shake and lips sweat at the thought of what he needs to do?

    Because it¡¯ll be revolution,

    And revolution brings with it so much suffering.

    -

    It started with a scream.

    Tantra walked along with the procession of false tears, mourners wailing and nobles trudging along to the cadence of a dirge. All of it theater, a display of pain for their fellows, so that none may be the subject of scrutiny or rumors.

    Tantra, of course, is not free from this asinine practice.

    She had to teach her friends how to carry themselves, so they don¡¯t draw any unwanted ire to Synthia. They may just be cultivators kept to bloat the mansion''s numbers, but they are still under the ladies name, and she doesn¡¯t need the kind of scrutiny that comes with being the subject of rumors interrupting her scheming.

    The death of her father put the woman in a frenzy of political machinations, grasping for any and all the empty promises she can from earls and viscounts, blazing through her agenda with a tongue of¡­not quite silver. Tantra¡¯s pointed out on multiple occasions that the woman carries herself with too much pretentious pride, but the advice has gone unheeded so far.

    Still, it is impressive, compared to her siblings, she''s been carving out a significant amount of her fathers political capital. If you ignored how society worked you¡¯d think she was aiming for the seat of marchioness, an idle fancy, one that doesn¡¯t have a chance of actually happening.

    Despite that it¡¯s clear Synthia has some sort of grand agenda, gathering political allies into the tight grip of a tyrant, using the vacuum of power to plot something against her siblings.

    It¡¯s a good thing Tantra won¡¯t be here to suffer the blowback.

    She looks over at Erick, the boy that¡¯s been in her charge for what feels like forever now. He¡¯s grown, actually passing her in height, much to his delight.

    The little shit.

    He¡¯s almost at foundation, Tantra can smell it when she uses sensory overload, just a little. His Qi smells of mint, as she¡¯s learned all Qi unaffected by dao does, and he¡¯s getting close to a kind of threshold where the Qi is more¡­pungent. That¡¯s what happens when a part of the body is fully saturated, the Qi goes from filling the cracks to merging with the tissue. It can still be trained of course, but now it¡¯s to increase the body''s tolerance to Qi, rather than trying to make it capable of tolerating Qi in the first place.

    Only a few months now and he¡¯ll have crossed the threshold, they could be faster, If Tantra was willing to push him to his brink. But¡­that¡¯s for the sect to do, she doesn¡¯t have to set her expectations so high, not when they have practically an indefinite amount of time to train. Why make him suffer when he¡¯s already so far ahead of his peers?

    He¡¯s only twelve, the same age when Tantra started her journey, he¡¯s doing just fine at his current pace.

    Then, once he¡¯s hit foundation, they can trek the journey back to the sect. Tantra refuses to bring any mortals along with her to the DarkWoods. She still remembers the bear, everyday when she has to look at the scars it left on her body, she isn¡¯t strong enough to fight one of those on her own, let alone protect anyone from it.

    She has a map of the greater beasts territories, the one Rakan used to navigate the Woods when they started their journey. But that was six years and a beast tide ago, meaning the likelihood of them crossing into another thing like the bear tremendously likely.

    Lucky she has her friends then, with their strength combined it won¡¯t be impossible to take one down. But she isn¡¯t traveling with a mortal, because she can¡¯t protect a mortal.

    She needs Erick to be durable, in case anything goes wrong.

    They walk to a luxurious graveyard, easily spanning the size of the Sol estate, with a multitude of graves to represent the millennia of marquis¡¯s and marchionesses who have passed through the annals of history in Ralth, most of them are, quite frankly, unremarkable. Enjoying their luxurious positions while doing little else other than maintaining the status quo. Not that that¡¯s a bad thing, order is always better than chaos after all, and change is rarely a peaceful thing, not with the convoluted bureaucracy of nobility.

    Tantra¡¯s standing pretty close to where the grave¡¯s been dug, on account of being Synthia¡¯s guard, her friends were even permitted to tag along.

    How serendipitous.

    The procession stops, surrounding the grave as the coffin bearers slowly lower the coffin into the grave of Roth Farlagh, at the front Erin stands, broken eyes ever bleeding as she postures behind the coffin.

    She is the only one who doesn¡¯t have to play along with this theater, being as ancient and powerful as she is.

    She looks over the sizable crowd of nobles and their retainers with the broken rubies that float in her eyes, little fractals glowing red.

    ¡°Greetings,¡± She starts, a voice of torn viscera echoing throughout the procession, ¡°today we gather to commemorate the late marquis, as he rejoins the cycle like so many before him. I would offer my condolences, but he was truly an unremarkable man, doing little and taking little. He¡¯s left nothing to mark his name in Ralth¡¯s history other than being someone of importance. I, personally, detest these kinds of people. So much power yet so little substance, truly it is a waste, I can only hope that the one to take his seat would have more zeal for the growth of this city.¡±

    No one comments on her speech, no one dares, immortals get to say whatever they want, and it wasn¡¯t unexpected that she say something to disparage the marquis. She¡¯s done it plenty of times before according to the history books, rarely ever giving praise to any particular ruler.

    It is with the end of her speech that Garlan, the first son, walks up to the grave and prepares his speech, he drones on about the greatness of his father, despite the very clear disparagement the immortal next to him had delivered, on and on his speech goes, until even Tantra¡¯s eye¡¯s start to droop.

    But then he is finished, and it is Dimis¡¯s turn.

    The boy takes a deep breath and starts to speak-

    Only to be cut off by a scream.

 Ch.87:A Giant Amongst Ants

    Screams, such a useless expression of guttural terror, other than piercing the eardrums it doesn¡¯t really do anything.

    This is the second time in as many weeks that Tantra hears screaming where she shouldn¡¯t.

    It¡¯s brief, only lasting a moment before being silenced with a sickening snap, but it¡¯s enough to pull the attention of the procession. Heads turn, so many heads turn, all to face the source of the disturbance

    What graces their eyes is a giant, standing sentry to the three corpses at her feet. Tantra recognizes them as then as the baron York and his wife, alongside their cultivator guard, all

    laying in a pool of their own blood. One of them must be missing a heart, the still-beating organ resting comfortable in the palm of a massive hand.

    Her smile is wide, filled with broad teeth and a strange mania.

    ¡°Well!¡± the giant says, ¡°that took quite a bit longer than anticipated, this graveyard is huge, seriously, tone it down a little. But I¡¯m finally here! Hello! What a joy and a pleasure it is to meet all you scrumptious morsels.¡±

    She is met by stunned silence as the crowd processes what she¡¯s done.

    ¡°Not very talkative eh? That¡¯s fine, I don¡¯t judge. Say, you wouldn¡¯t mind if I indulged before we got to the fun would you?¡±

    More silence.

    ¡°Cool,¡±

    Tantra gets the singular experience of tearing muscle violating her ears as the giant bites through half of the heart. She chews slowly, luxuriating in the precious organ like it were some rare delicacy. Blood flows down her chin like dribbling magma as she swallows and lets out a contented sigh.

    ¡°Are you mad?¡± Galar says, genuine confusion laced into his voice, ¡°you¡¯d dare to murder nobility and feast on their hearts in front of the Sentinel?¡±

    ¡°Okay, firstly, that¡¯s fucking rude,¡± the giant says, wiping the blood off her bronzed skin, ¡°Secondly, this-¡± she shakes the half-heart at him ¡°-belonged to the cultivator, I wouldn¡¯t subject myself to feasting on mortal flesh.¡±

    As though to emphasize her point, she takes the rest of the pulsating organ into her maw, an expression of placid bliss plastered over her features as she chews. There are dozens of cultivators and nobles to witness this madness, and none of them can muster even the presence of mind to do anything but stare.

    The Sentinel stares along with them, seemingly exasperated.

    Tantra steps in front of Synthia, providing what little protection her body might offer from the giant, she¡­shouldn¡¯t have to worry, the Sentinel is here.

    But she¡¯s just got this feeling.

    Like a dormant instinct, it¡¯s been whispering ever so sweetly the promise of violence ever since the marquis¡¯s death, and now it is screaming. Tantra doesn¡¯t believe in something as banal as fate, or predetermination, but this feels far too coincidental.

    Or maybe she¡¯s connecting dots that don¡¯t exist.

    Either way, she¡¯s not taking chances with this woman of crimson robes and matching locks, Tantra manifests her kanab¨­ in preparation as she widens her stance.

    ¡°She¡¯s got the right idea!¡± the giant laughs with a mouthful of meat, pointing enthusiastically at Tantra, ¡°cultivators should stand by their own strength! Ready to deliver and suffer violence at any moment, not cower under the skirt of some immortal.¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s cowering, knave?¡± Garlan snarls, ¡°we follow laws, to avoid such base displays of barbarism, but there¡¯s always some idiot who just doesn¡¯t understand. You come to soil my fathers funeral and speak of cowardice like this is the place for such things, no, you will die brutally, just as all the rest of your kind.¡±

    The giant blinks, then barks a laugh, ¡°damn! Are you the new marquis? You¡¯ve got moxie, I approve, shame I have to kill ya.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean ¡®have too¡¯?¡± Tantra interrupts, full of false bravado ¡°are you here under somebody''s orders?¡±

    The giant smiles wider than should be possible for a human mouth, ¡°quick on the uptake, quick indeed. I like you girl, a brain is a rare organ to find in a cultivator, if only you had a dao, I''m sure whichever one to grace you with its wisdom would make you positively delicious.¡±

    ¡°Resai,¡± the tearing of viscera says, ¡°hurry up and get to the point would you? I tire of all this theater.¡±

    Multiple dozen heads whip towards the Sentinel as she stands, arms crossed and relaxed.

    ¡°You know her?¡± Garlan says.

    Then everything is pain.

    Tantra falls to her knees as something beyond comprehension bears its weight down unto her shoulders, it is a blood hound of many heads, it is an amalgam of flesh all concentrated together in a singular point, it is-

    Too much.

    Blood flows freely from Tantra¡¯s eyes and ears as she joins the chorus of screams.

    ¡°Do not address me so casually boy,¡± the mouth of a thing that speaks in bubbling blood says, ¡°you may be the marquis, but I am the Sentinel, if I so pleased I could kill you with a wave of my arm, and the emperor wouldn¡¯t even muster the energy to care.¡±

    Tantra is choking, her lungs aren¡¯t working properly, she can¡¯t brea-

    Then the pressure is gone and the procession takes in big gulps of air in both terror and awe.

    Garlan lays on the floor, kowtowing before the immortal in desperate demonstration of obeisance, not daring to speak for fear that more words would bring about more wrath.

    ¡°Always the imposing one,¡± the giant-Resai-laughs shakily, ¡°honestly, you say you don¡¯t like theater but then you pull something like that.¡±

    ¡°It was a demonstration, cannibal.¡±

    ¡°It certainly was,¡± Resai coughs, ¡°good gods, how much Qi do you even have?¡±

    Erin scoffs and ignores the question.

    Tantra picks herself up from the ground slowly, leaning on her kanab¨­ as the after effects wear off. She can still feel her skin cracking as a viscous liquid fills the-

    Tantra shakes her head, focus.

    ¡°Welp,¡± Resay stretches, ¡°you heard the big scary immortal, no more talk, just violence! C¡¯mon friends, let¡¯s get to the bleeding and the dying!¡±

    ¡°We aren¡¯t your ¡®friends¡¯, monster¡± Galar growls, manifesting a pair of tonfas in his grip, ¡°and if the Sentinel isn¡¯t willing to end you then it¡¯d be my pleasure to take on the burden.¡±

    ¡°Them¡¯s fighting words!¡± Resai lets loose a crazed smile, ¡°c¡¯mon you beautiful bastards, make me bleed!¡±

    Galar kneels down and-

    A blur is all he is as in just an instant he reaches the giant and punches his tonfas forward, Resai blocks and follows up with a series of blows that Tantra cannot possibly follow.

    Slowly the fighters accelerate until it¡¯s just two blurs in a flurry of violence. She can¡¯t make out features other than the color of their robes, so fast do they move. Tantra takes a thread from her core and sends it to her mind.

    Her perception of the world sharpens, able to make out indistinct shapes exchanging blows rather than blurs, each clash an explosion. But even with her lack of understanding for what¡¯s going on, she can tell Galar¡¯s losing, dramatically.

    The smell of a gaping maw filled with luminous teeth simply overpowering the sweet scent of absolution.

    Blood flies, and Tantra knows it doesn¡¯t belong to the giant.

    Dirt flies as more cultivators join the frey, aiding Galar in a symphony of chaotic blows and-

    Blood and organs fly as one of the fighters explodes into a mess of viscera and gore, Tantra¡¯s eyes widen.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Was that from her fist?!?

    ¡°Tantra,¡± she hears the grave voice of Ezra say, she turns to see him with a grim expression as he watches the scene.

    What does he see?

    ¡°Take Synthia and go, this is no battlefield for you or your friends, get her somewhere safe and hide, I¡¯ll find you, I promise.¡±

    ¡°What!¡± Synthia exclaims, ¡°what kind of preposterous suggestion is that? You¡¯re not fighting that thing Ezra.¡±

    ¡°Unfortunate then that this isn¡¯t your decision to make,¡±

    ¡°I am your Lady!¡±

    ¡°Some things supersede nobility,¡± Ezra sighs, then gives his attempt at a cheeky smile, ¡°do me a favor my Lady, don¡¯t die, would be a shame to waste all my efforts over the years.¡±

    ¡°Ezra-¡±

    But he disappears before Synthia can finish, faster than Tantra¡¯s ever seen him, faster than even Galar and the giant.

    ¡°No,nonono¡± Synthia clutches at her head, ¡°this can¡¯t be happening!¡±

    ¡°What in the fuck is going on?!?¡± Etra exclaims.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Kisrin says, ¡°but I think it¡¯s best if we do as he said¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Synthia whirls on the boy, ¡°you will do as I say! And I demand you help him!¡±

    Tantra, wise sage that she is, can see the direction that¡¯d go by watching the scene in front of her. The giant is just an indistinct mass of crimson violence, her robes matching the color of her long locks, and she hasn¡¯t moved an inch.

    Dozens of cultivators, all anchored and a step into connection, and they amount to nothing.

    What could they possibly do but die?

    ¡°Tantra?¡± Erick says, looking nervously at her, ¡°what do we do?¡±

    Tantra looks up at the boy, she has to, tall as he¡¯s gotten.

    Erick isn¡¯t a cultivator, not really; If they die and he¡¯s left alone, it¡¯ll be back to the streets for him.

    Tantra¡¯s eyes turn to cold steel, ¡°we leave.¡±

    ¡°What? No!¡± Synthia exclaims, walking up to face Tantra with an expression of desperate rage, ¡°Ezra¡¯s still fighting, we won¡¯t leave him-¡±

    Yorin interrupts the noblewoman with a strike to the neck, then grabs her before she falls. The rest of them stare stunned at the man.

    ¡°What?¡± he says with a raised brow, ¡°I don¡¯t think we have time to argue.¡±

    -

    Synthia wasn¡¯t the only noble that ended up under their purview, nor were they the only cultivators to guard them. Many of the anchored are fighting the giant, leaving the esteemed social caste vulnerable; but a few joined in their retreat, either concerned for the wellbeing of their charges or too cowardly to face such a monster.

    Unfortunately for Tantra, one of them was Rimi.

    There¡¯s so much Tantra doesn¡¯t understand. Why¡¯d the Sentinel do nothing? Her whole job is to maintain the peace through the guarantee of a gruesome death to any cultivator who dares to break her laws. It¡¯s purpose, of course, is to protect the nobility, but it extends to the commoners as well.

    It¡¯s what makes Ralth different, one of the four great cities of Rikidan that possess predictable order, where the structure of leadership doesn¡¯t have to take into account the potential visit from a bloodthirsty cultivator.

    If news reaches the city that the Sentinel¡¯s decided to take a vacation then¡­well, they aren¡¯t the majority, but there are plenty of cultivators who would revel in the bloodshed. Settling perceived grievances or to make their mark in history, even if it would be as a mass murderer.

    Good gods, that doesn¡¯t even touch on what the sects might do.

    Tantra hopes beyond hope that the giant doesn¡¯t survive.

    Then there¡¯s the mystery of the giant, how are they so strong? They aren¡¯t in possession of any strange mutations so they can¡¯t be in integration, or are only half a step unto that path. Which means they¡¯re holding back what what amounts to¡­thirty eight cultivators?

    All of them anchored.

    While being in connection.

    She knows that the realms aren¡¯t really a measure of strength, theoretically someone who¡¯s only invested in their foundations could reach a level of strength that rivals an immortal, however unlikely that is in practice.

    But there¡¯s always been one rule in cultivation.

    Numbers dominate.

    So for her to be fighting off so many without even being in integration is absurd.

    If someone had told Tantra that was even possible just the day before she would¡¯ve laughed right in their face.

    So, two nigh impossibilities, all on the same day.

    This can¡¯t be a coincidence.

    Tantra knows about all the speculation for why the year of demons happened, that the Sentinel got bored, or that it was some kind of test from the emperor himself.

    Personally she subscribes to the idea that she was bribed, just makes the most sense honestly

    Only one entity in Ralth could possibly bribe a Sentinel.

    But it makes no sense, chaos is anathema to trade, and the Jade Sol holds no titles, so a mass slaughter of the nobility would mean nothing for their influence. In fact, once the emperor¡¯s gaze bears down on the city, being the cause of such chaos could very well lead to her old clan being dismantled.

    So there has to be more.

    Tikor might have been an idiot, but Dozen is no such thing.

    There¡¯s something here that she¡¯s missing.

    But she can contemplate that once they¡¯re out of the graveyard.

    Tantra glances back at the sedated jog the nobles are maintaining with excruciating difficulty. It¡¯s frustrating, without them they could¡¯ve been out of the graveyard already, but they refuse to go any faster.

    Well, maybe refuse isn¡¯t the right word, she¡¯s sure they¡¯d gladly go faster¡­if they could.

    Sometimes Tantra forgets how truly pathetic the body of a mortal is.

    How could she have been that weak?

    No, she was a child when she advanced, so she was weaker, Tantra shivers.

    There are a few who can¡¯t maintain pace, too old to abuse their muscles and joints to such a simplistic degree of abuse, so they must be carried on the backs of the wielders of Qi.

    Truly the horrors of infirmity.

    It takes much longer than it should for them to reach the northern gates, but reach them they do; and cursed be the malevolent heavens, there¡¯s a surprise waiting for them.

    Tantra stares at the gate, as a dozen or so cultivators that were lounging manifest their weapons and stride towards their group with determined purpose.

    Tantra holds back a sigh.

    There is no such thing as coincidences.

    She musters all the patience and fractured serenity she has left and crafts from it a mask of placid amusement.

    ¡°Hello fellow travellers on the path!¡± Tantra says with false cheer, infusing her lungs to project her voice further, ¡°we¡¯ve had quite the day, and would rather not engage in pointless bloodshed, so would you be so kind as to move out of the way?¡±

    A man with a rather large cleaver tilts his head, scrutinizing Tantra with an eerie focus.

    ¡°You¡¯re the kin-killer!¡± he snaps his fingers, ¡°I saw your last fight, it was deliciously brutal, I¡¯d ask for an autograph but considering the circumstances¡­¡± He shrugs, ¡°well, I guess I¡¯ll just have to settle for your head.¡±

    ¡°Now now,¡± Tantra says, ¡°coin isn¡¯t worth-¡±

    She is interrupted by the sound of bones snapping.

    Tantra turns, panicked nobles scrambling away from Rimi, who currently stands over a dead Garlan, neck protruding at an odd angle as nunchucks wrap around his throat.

    What the fuck?

    ¡°Wha-¡± the words barely leave her mouth before Rimi dashes to Dimis, the boy scrambling away from her in panic.

    Tantra boosts her heart, more than she should, and intercepts Rimi with a swing from her club, sending the woman crashing into a crypt. There is silence for just a moment, then chaos reigns as the cultivators waiting to ambush them charge, engaging in duels or slaughtering nobles.

    Tantra, with her extensive experience in the arena, isn¡¯t fazed by the sudden bombardment of information to her enhanced senses. So the cleaver descending for her skull doesn¡¯t escape her ears.

    She spins, arcing her club and parrying the cleaver then she-

    Rimi gets back up and charges Dimis again. Tantra grits her teeth, pulling more Qi into her heart in an attempt to pass by cleaver, but it proves unsuccessful as he intercepts her with another swing.

    Tantra blocks a series of blows and watches helplessly as Rimi¡¯s nunchucks crack open Dimis¡¯s skull.

    What the fuck is going on?!?

    Tantra grits her teeth as she continues to exchange blows with cleaver, shifting her attention to her friends. They¡¯re in a formation with Synthia and Erick at their centre, inundated by the assault of four cultivators, and what¡¯s about to become five with Rimi¡¯s inclusion. Tantra has to compromise, she borders on her sensory limits with her boosting technique, watching with supernatural clarity as the cleaver falls to meet her.

    She sidesteps and counters with a strike to his knee, hearing a satisfying crunch she-

    Tantra smells the shedding of blood through sharp edges, and it is liquid.

    She barely dodges as a pair of axe like blades-khopeshes-cut through the air, aimed at decapitating her. She turns to see a man with jet black hair and a crazed smile as he prepares to strike her again.

    Tantra almost lets it hit her from her shock at his robes and token.

    The Rivers Scales.

    Today is just full of surprises, and not the good kind because he¡¯s clearly an inner disciple. A corner of her mind nudges her with familiarity but she hasn¡¯t even met an inner disciple from the Serpent¡¯s Fang, let alone The Rivers Scales.

    She pushes that aside as she blocks another blow from his pair of axe-swords, pushing her back slightly.

    She looks over at her friends.

    They aren¡¯t doing well.

    Fuck, she needs to help them.

    Tantra sends a second thread to her right leg and blurs away, the crazed man frowning as she leaves him opponentless. He looks and finds her sending a lesser cultivator flying, protecting the little noble and¡­a child?

    No, no this won¡¯t do, he was just starting to have fun!

    Soma boosts his legs with liquid Qi and rushes the famed ¡®kin-killer¡¯.