The Art of Cultivation is catalysis. It is the purification and metabolization of the spirit. The Cultivation manual doesn’t say so, the language of the [System] is sanitized and banausic. Breath cycles are measured in precise rotations of the channels. The levels are bounded by measures of the Cosmic Energy in units of egro-Rayles: a dozen-dozenth of the standard energetic Rayle. But that’s not right, not right at all.
Todd delves deeper into the fourth exercise of the Root of the Limitless Promise Cultivation technique. With each breath he drives his energy in simultaneous cyclic flows. Concordant, that’s the right word. In and out, the loose circuit of his limbs is no longer sufficient. He needs to divide his attention into the multiple primary and secondary loops if he is going to continue to progress. He inhales through his nose and feels the charged energy as it suffuses his lungs and blood.
It’s strange, the actual capture of energy is one part of the process that the manual never seems to cover. This step is one that Todd has needed to grasp intuitively, calling on an instinct as natural as thirst. He feels it as an edge or boundary between his self and the ambient, with every breath transforming a little piece of the outside world into a piece of him.
Todd opens his eyes, and stretches out his cramped, protesting body. His leg itches terribly as he extends it, but the pain is much subsided so he puts the limb under him and attempts to stand. Better. Not great, but better.
The new girl is sitting with Joe and Candra, with her knees tucked in tight to her chest. Todd hasn’t caught much, but he knows that the girl hadn’t been on the field during the game. Candra had called her Sue Ann when she’d arrived, but Joe just seems to call her 4-H. Tod will have to ask about that later, but would prefer not to interrupt a reunion between friends.
So instead he searches for Randall. The big guy hadn’t helped setting up pixie Ciforre’s metal dummies, or been a part of the leadership meeting. As such, Todd guesses he hasn’t seen him in over an hour, and in that time the waking crowds have been leaving their rooms. He threads around a group of the older non-combats and they glare at him in hello, silent until he passes.
“Yikes,” Todd grumbles. As he continues, he passes by a series of free standing wooden posts. They are arranged in straight lines, turning at a ninety degree angle into a U shape, and there in the corner of it he stumbles on an impromptu self defense class.
Walter had organized it at the start, rounding up any low-levels that were willing to learn to fight in earnest. He’d proven to be an inadequate teacher, better suited to the rifle range than swinging swords. Over the ensuing lesson, and in the way that frustration and impatience always tends to ferment into challenge, his stewardship of the class had devolved into a three way argument with Ranger Drew and Teo. Drew was the one with a real knowledge of some kind of mean martial art; but he had less interest in teaching it than telling the others how they were doing theirs wrong.
Teo’s demonstrations were good, but discomforting. He tends to simply grab an unwilling volunteer and poke them on their body with the blunt of his [Mercury Rod] and announce they’d been stabbed. To his credit, he shows the patience to go back and tell them how they might have prevented the attack by stabbing him first. The funny thing is that between the three of them bickering, they almost sum up to one adequate lesson.
Todd finds Randall paired off with a stranger. The two watch their instructors closely, trying to recreate the knife fight movements they’d been demonstrated to, but in agonizingly slow motion. The man points down at his foot, and swivels it to slide down to a wider stance, then he adjusts his grip on his weapon and extends it forwards Randall’s belly.
“Yo,” Todd calls out.
Randall lowers his weapon, sweeping it out to ward off the incoming strike. But he’s distracted by the greeting and knocks his fingers against his opponent’s ‘knife’. He passes his weapon to his free hand and shakes out the struck one. “Ack,” he grins. “What’s up.”
“The pixies are almost set up for whatever they have planned,” Todd sighs.
“You mean with all the stuff they’ve been setting up?”
“Yea I think they’re just waiting until a few more people wake up.”
“Think we got a couple minutes? We can practice,” Randall tucks his lower lip under his teeth to effect a silly wide-mouthed grin and waggles his eyebrows. “Ya wanna rematch?”
“Uh... I just wonder if this kind of fighting is going to still be useful,” Todd doubts. He watches Drew angrily shout his way through a demonstration of a grapple. Are these techniques going to be effective against monsters? Moreover, now that magic is real (or available? Todd’s still not got a clear answer on what’s actually changed), wouldn’t that change how they fight too?
Begrudgingly, Todd joins the class. For a quarter hour, Randall reviews and demonstrates the basic knife forms, and Todd pushes him to exercise them faster. With his 11 dexterity, the motions are smoother and easier to execute. With his 11 endurance, being struck hurts less. There's no reason to practice so cautiously anymore. Halfway through, Todd sends a signal of Cosmic Energy through his transfiguring tool, and extends its length. The increased range pushes their sparring distance apart, and the grappling moves they’d been practicing suddenly do more to expose their off hand to danger than anything else. Eventually, straying from the introductory instruction leaves Todd and Randall with little to do but improvise and experiment, but without a background in real martial arts, their instincts lead them to missteps as often as insights.
“I don’t even know the point,” Todd declares. He breaks his stance and stows his weapon back into his bag. “If we ever had a real fight the only thing that would matter is how far apart we’re standing.”
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Randall frowns. “Dude, I’ve got my changing stick working now. It’s not like your pool cue thing is that much longer than any weapon that I can make.”
“That’s not really what I mean,” Todd motions for Randall to stand still and then takes a few long steps away. “How far is the range of your fire explosion thing?”
“My [Igneous Bouquet]? I’m not sure,” Randall replies, scratching his head. “You’re probably in range still.”
“Okay. Well, I don’t really have a way to stop a giant fireball. If I’m close enough to get hit… I’m gonna lose.”
“Oh, yea I guess,” Randall brightens up.
Gingerly, Todd relays the less generous half of the thought. “On the other hand, if we’ve got a couple more yards between us, I don’t know how you’d deal with a [Water Spear].”
“Pffff,” Randall scoffs and taps on his wooden chest-plate, “I’ll use this thing as a shield.”
Todd chuckles. “Yea, you’re right. You got me there.” His eyes flick down to Randall’s leg, and he chooses not to share the idea that pops into his head. “Alright, we should go. They’re getting started.”
As a rooster’s crow marks the morning, the descent of the pixies is the sure sign of coming trouble. Not everyone has geared their survival sense to react at the drop of an electro-sparkle hat, so Todd and Randall beat most of the crowd to gather beneath the three pixies. Aefore, Befor, and Ciforre hover above their favorite pulpit, the huge smoke-colored crystal that serves as everyone’s primary hub to the [System]’s shop system. The facets of the irregular rhombohedral stone gleam, refract, and void, in white, grey and black as it turns in the air.
“Children of the Earth, it is a good morning and we hope that it brings you fortune,” Aefore’s amplified voice announces. The lead pixie’s night hue mail gleams especially brightless as she opens her fire-gold arms to the crowd. “We have news regarding the frightful beasts who attacked you yesterday! My sister Befor tracked the creatures back to their home world, the F-class wilderness of Caqaiba IV.”
“It’s such a scawwy pwace,” Befor bawls, tipping over sideways in a slow cartwheel. “It was a whole big planet, green and wild! There were homes there too, big ones. Maybe even whole cities! But there’s somethin’ wrong there too. I could not find a single people, no I could not!”
“The peoples of Caqaiba IV are extinguished?” Ciforre repines aghast, “a terrible catastrophe must have occurred to leave a world empty.”
A shadow grows deep, beneath Aefore’s brow. “I fear what would happen if such a threat were not to be contained. Sister, do you think it is possible that this doom could spread?” She strikes a pose and looks out dramatically across the assembled Cultivators. “Could the Earth itself... be in danger?”
There are gasps from the audience, but Todd cringes in revulsion at the yawning logical gaps in-between bug infestation and interplanetary invasion.
“Oh no, sister! How awful! I mean, maybe the planet is a ghostly sepulchral husk, ravaged by a hungry unknown evil, but that doesn’t mean that mean old monsters are coming to eat the humans, right?”
“We cannot afford to take that chance!” Aefore valiantly announces. “If this world holds hidden dangers, we must be prepared for them. Heroes of Earth! Yesterday you have discovered powers within yourselves, power and courage you never knew! If we are to protect the people that we love, we cannot allow ourselves to be bound by our old limits!”
“Which is why,” Ciforre sidles in, “we have assembled a series of tests.”
“Think of them as games,” Befor giggles.
“But think more...ly” Ciforre winces, “of them as an opportunity to test your new abilities. After all, it would be irresponsible to allow you to face danger without preparing you first.”
In Todd’s opinion, a life or death fight against two thousand carnivorous arthropods would have counted as danger without preparation.
“Speed, strength, precision! These are the qualities a warrior needs to survive.” Aefore curls and shakes her fist. “But most of all, you must possess the drive to win.”
“It’s a competition! Isn’t that fun!”
Ciforre adjusts her glasses and runs a finger down the page of her open stone book, “The following events will be available: the four hundred meter dash, the seven mile race, the sharpshooting trial, the once struck and thrice struck challenges,” the purple sage pixie indicates the running track posts, the metal dolls, and then points toward a ring of narrow stone steles that Todd hadn’t seen before. “And finally the Cosmic energy tests, both of flux and breadth.”
“I’m so excited I could explode! Sister, tell them about the prizes!”
Aefore raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Treasures galore.”
“In the traditions of your people, the first through third positions in a game of skill are awarded. We will use the same standard, the rewards will be granted to the top three performances per event. But do not despair! There is no limit to the number of events you may participate in.”
The sound suppression field that accompanies the pixies’ announcement dies down, and questions begin to simmer throughout the crowd. Meanwhile eight different quests appear, stacking up into Todd’s quest menu.
Active Quests
1. Fleet of Foot: Dash 400 meters – Reward Variable
2. Swift Legged: Run 12 kilometers – Reward Variable
3. Decisive Blow: Strike once with all your might – Reward Variable
4. Strength of Arms: Strike thrice and show no mercy – Reward Variable
5. Long Shot: Strike from 60 yards – Reward Variable
6. Whirlwind Fist: Strike as many targets as possible – Reward Variable
7. Open the Floodgate: Expend the Cosmic Energy as fast as possible – Reward Variable
8. Empty the Reservoir: Expend the Cosmic Energy in as large a quantity as possible – Reward Variable
Looking over the list, Todd sees some problems immediately: tests of speed and strength may be difficult to perform well in. By choosing to spread his attribute growth evenly, he will likely be unable to compete against someone like Candra who had invested more narrowly. Besides, it’s doubtful a group of this size won’t have a few strong runners at least.
A loud clap breaks Todd out of his thoughts. The bubble pink pixie Befor’s hands are pressed together over her head, and she loudly shouts above the sounds of the crowd.
“So what are you waiting for? Begin!”