Greg joined a crowd gathering on a large platform in the middle of Farova's capital, wearing a large backpack filled with random goods. During the sect entrance exams, throngs of people would head to Callowa to take advantage of the crowds, selling various goods to the young sect hopefuls, so Greg was far from the only person on the platform with a bag full of goods. Energy flowed through the platform, lighting up intricate patterns all along the surface, before a flash of light covered the crowd and suddenly they were in Callowa. “Everyone off the platform! Don't push!” A man ordered as they arrived, attendants herding the people into several different directions, ensuring a smooth flow from the platform to the city. Greg moved with the crowd, making his way deeper into the city until he found a chance to split off into an isolated alley, walking through as Chris appeared beside him and he turned to smoke, flowing underground as Chris joined the crowd on the other side.
Chris attached portal points to random people as he passed by, using them to pull air out of his world and spread it across the city. The more his air spread, the more portal points he placed, until he had access to a good quarter of the city, and he began to bring his subordinates in, having them appear in various alleys and leaving them to make their way to the various different examination centers. Three portals opened for Andrew, Greg, and Victoria, and the Eternal Sect officially infiltrated the sect entrance exams.
“Well, that was easy.” Greg chuckled to himself as he made his way towards the nearest examination center. “Now, let's see if I have what it takes to actually pass the combat test…” The sect entrance exams had just begun, so there were long lines of participants crowding each examination center. Greg grimaced as he saw the line, letting out a sigh as he got in line. “Should have brought a book.” He muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” The person in front of him asked, turning around.
“Oh, nothing. Just lamenting my inability to withstand the ravages of boredom.” Greg sighed, pausing and raising an eyebrow as he saw that the person was covered head to toe in heavy fabric, disguising their appearance and even muffling their voice so that it was impossible to tell if they were a man or woman. “Aren't you hot under all that? I mean, I guess it's fall, but it's still pretty warm out.”
“I'm fine.” The person replied coldly, quickly turning away from him.
“I was just trying to be nice.” Greg grumbled, but the person just ignored him. He waited for a moment, looking around and checking out the various wares being offered off to the side, before letting out a sigh. “So, you got a name?”
“Leave me alone.” The person retorted, not even turning around.
“Oh come on, don't be like that! We're going to be spending the next…” Greg trailed off as he checked the line. “Ugh, the next few hours being line buddies. Why not get to know each other?”
“I don't want to get to know you.” The person growled, glancing back at him.
Greg rolled his eyes. “Well you're going to need to do something to keep me entertained. Or I'm going to have to find a way to entertain myself, and that usually goes… poorly.” The person continued to ignore him, and Greg shrugged. “Well, you've been warned.” Greg looked around for something to occupy himself, turning to see if he had another line buddy behind him, but he was last at the moment. He checked out the wares again, but all they had were little trinkets and food, nothing particularly entertaining. He grimaced, checking out the street around him to see if there was anything he could use to occupy himself, even spreading his Qi to see what he could pick up, but there was nothing but dirt and trash. Suddenly Greg paused, a slow grin spreading across his face. He could work with dirt and trash.
Greg hummed to himself as he began to gather various bits of debris with his Spirit threads, kneeling down to scoop up a handful of dirt and spitting into it a few times, turning it to mud. He took scraps of paper and soaked them in the mud, before sticking them between rocks and blowing on them to dry them. He then pasted the paper around the outside of the rocks and blew on them some more, turning them into little crappy bricks. Once he had enough, he started stacking them, pasting them together with more muddy paper, but just putting paper between them wasn't very effective as mortar. “Hmmm.” Greg hummed, looking around for a solution.
“What are you doing?!?” The person in front of him finally turned around to see why he kept spitting and blowing, only to see him with a handful of muddy blocks.
“Making bricks!” Greg answered with a grin. “Not sure what my next step is though… a house maybe? Kinda boring and played out though… Oh! I could make a statue! But of what…” Greg went to scratch his chin thoughtfully, only for the person in front of him to quickly lash out and grab his wrist.
“Were you raised in a barn!?! You don't play with mud and you definitely don't rub the mud on your face!” The person snapped.
“Well what else am I supposed to do?” Greg huffed. “You're not talking to me and no one is selling games! All I have to work with is mud and trash!”
“You're supposed to stand there and silently wait your turn!” The person growled.
“Well that's just not happening.” Greg snorted. “Now, are you going to let me go? I'd like to get back to work.”
The person glared at him for a moment, before letting out a frustrated groan. “If you get rid of this disgusting mess, I will talk to you.”
“Deal!” Greg immediately agreed, tossing the bricks over his shoulder, starting to bring out some smoke, before pausing as he remembered he couldn't do that at the moment. “Uh, I might need some water.” The person rolled their eyes, waving down someone selling drinks and buying a small pouch of water. Greg held out his hands as they poured, quickly cleaning them off. “Much obliged.” Greg thanked them with a grin. “So… name?”
“You can call me D.” The person replied.
Greg raised an eyebrow. “Well, then you can call me Y.”
D grunted. “What do you wish to talk about?”
Greg cocked his head. “Which sect are you hoping to join?”
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“The Hidden Blades.” D replied simply.
“Hey, me too! Why are you interested in them? Obviously my interests are more crafty, but you seem more like the… crafty type.” Greg snickered at the word play.
“You wish to join the Hidden Blades?” D asked incredulously.
“Yup! Why? Do you think I shouldn't?” Greg cocked his head, giving them an innocent smile.
“You- don't seem to have the- demeanor of someone interested in the Hidden Blades.” D explained tentatively.
Greg chuckled and D felt a shiver go down their spine, their eyes widening. “Demeanor? Do you think the Hidden Blades would be effective if one could simply tell who they are by their demeanor? I'm quite certain that demeanor is the last thing the Hidden Blades are looking for in their applicants.”
“You aren't a crafter.” D whispered in shock.
Greg gave them a weird look. “What? Of course I am! Didn't you see my blocks? Look, I even have the Shape Rune!” Greg pulled down his shirt to show off the crisp second tier Rune on his chest.
D blinked, staring at the Rune for a moment, before looking back at the grinning Greg. “What other Runes do you have?” They asked, narrowing their eyes.
Greg coughed. “Oh, you know. This and that.” His Terrorize Rune was also in the third tier, giving him the second tier Rune. As was his Devour Rune… between the system and the clarity he got from meditating while absorbing the vitality from trees, he was practically flying through his Runes.
“Hm.” D grunted. “Well, I wish you luck.”
“You too.” Greg nodded. “We could be sect buddies! Though I probably wouldn't recognize you… unless you're planning on wearing this get-up all the time?”
“Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.” D replied. “I guess you'll just have to find out.”
“Fine, fine, keep your secrets.” Greg snorted. “Let's see, what else can we talk about.” He glanced at the line. “Fuck this is taking a long time.”
“How long has it been since you Awakened?” D asked.
“Four months.” Greg lied.
“And you already have a second tier Rune?” D blinked. “That's impressive. It took me eight months before I Assimilated my first.”
“That's not bad?” Greg cocked his head. “Actually, I have no idea if that's good or not.”
“Assimilating a second tier Rune within two years is considered talented, within a year is considered gifted, and anything less than half a year is on the level of genius.” D explained. “Of course, different circumstances can allow for a certain amount of discrepancy.” They added, and Greg felt like they were smirking, though he couldn't tell for certain.
“Sure, that makes sense.” Greg muttered, wondering how they'd feel when they learned he had three second tier Runes Assimilated, of all three types. And that he'd actually pulled it off in less than two months. Though he supposed if you accounted for the system and his smoke bullshit, it wasn't that impressive. “So I guess we both have a pretty good shot at getting in, huh?”
“It seems that way.” D nodded. “Have you considered which Pavilion you wish to join?”
“Pavi-what now?” Greg frowned.
“You-” D began, cutting off with a groan. “Do you know nothing of the sect at all?!?”
“Eh?” Greg wiggled his hand. “I know they're primarily focused on Qi related skills, like stealth and crafting. That's about it.” Tiffany had given them all a basic explanation of what a sect was, but Greg hadn't cared to pay attention.
D glared at him for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “The sect has various Pavilions that specialize in certain aspects of the sect. There's the Alchemy Pavilion, the Hidden Pavilion, and the Blade Pavilion. The Alchemy Pavilion is where the crafters congregate, not just the alchemists, but the tool and formation crafters as well. Alchemy is simply the primary focus of the Hidden Blades. The Hidden Pavilion is primarily focused on the combination of Qi and Spirit, while the Blade Pavilion is primarily focused on the combination of Qi and Essence.”
“Basically spies and assassins, right?” Greg commented.
“If you wish to be reductive, you could see it that way.” D agreed, a hint of dissatisfaction in their tone.
Greg considered his options for a moment. “I guess I'd lean towards the Alchemy Pavilion, but I could see joining the Hidden Pavilion being a… valuable experience. How about you?”
“The Hidden Pavilion.” D replied with zero hesitation.
Greg chuckled. “I suppose I should have guessed that. So what about that spy life interests you?”
D huffed. “It isn't about being a spy, it's about finding ways to settle conflicts that don't revolve around who has the biggest fist. Why is it considered so much more noble to win a duel than to blackmail your opponent? In either case you haven't come to an agreement, you've simply targeted their weakness and leveraged it to get your way, yet people praise one and decry the other! At least blackmail targets someone who's actually done something wrong, rather than simply attacking someone weaker than you.”
“Sure, sure, I get you.” Greg nodded. “There's nothing wrong with gathering information and leveraging it to your advantage. I mean, the only reason it would matter if you knew something would be if someone else was trying to trick you. As long as everyone is being honest, knowledge doesn't matter.”
“Exactly!” D exclaimed. “The only possible way to take advantage of spying on someone is if they're doing something wrong!”
“Well, no, they don't have to be doing anything wrong, they just have to be trying to trick you.” Greg corrected. “Like, if I see a woman run down one street and a moment later a man runs up to me asking where she went, it wouldn't be wrong to tell him she went down a different street, even though it'd be a trick. Particularly if we assume I know the man is a rapist or something, and I'm saving the woman by tricking him. It's that whole idea that knowledge isn't good or bad, it's just a tool, which some people abuse.”
D hesitated. “I suppose…”
Greg smacked himself in the forehead. “Damn, I missed the perfect example! You're literally hiding your identity! Does that mean you've done something wrong?” Greg paused. “You haven't done anything wrong, have you?”
“Of course not!” D protested.
“Right, so there. No wrong, but still hiding things, for presumably perfectly valid reasons.” Greg nodded. “Unless you're lying, I suppose… but maybe you aren't, so my point still stands.”
D eyed him weirdly. “Hm.”
Greg scratched his head. “So… you got anything else? I'm out of topics. Unless you want to talk about something random, like who would win, one hundred soldiers or a stick.”
“Is that even a question?” D asked incredulously.
“No, no, you're right. It's obviously the stick.” Greg muttered.
“What- no, it's the soldiers!” D retorted.
Greg shook his head. “Impossible. You break a stick, what's the result? Two sticks. You break a soldier, what's the result? Dead soldier. All the stick needs to do is wait like fifty years and boom, no more soldiers. Hell, if you put it as a match where everyone has to fight until the other side is defeated, then the soldiers will die of thirst in like a week max.”
“That is utterly ridiculous.” D grumbled.
Greg chucked. “I resorted to making bricks out of mud and trash. How else did you think this was going to go?”