Chapter Twenty-Six: The Great One

Today was a good day.

Nobody but Rogen had accepted Lacy’s public offer for anyone to join her, Shu, and Hoomar in their training in the wilderness while chaperoned by a guard on the next rest day, but that was okay. One more person than usual was better than nobody at all!

Well, that wasn’t entirely true because brazen Yellowvine recruits had asked, but Lacy rebuffed them. They had their chances.

When Rogen sparred against Shu, he matched her aggressive energy. Their spear hafts clashed often, deflecting each other from obtaining points, and rarely did either of them land a hit, though not for lack of trying. They’d padded the spearheads as was protocol for sparring so it wasn’t like they were trying not to hurt each other.

“Your spear arts are excellent,” Rogen begrudgingly accepted after their latest clash, which Lacy witnessed between frenzied assaults on the mountain that was Hoomar. “I dare say we are matched.”

“Nope! I’m better than you,” Shu insisted. “I’m simply going easy. But…I’ll admit your skills are more refined than I expected.”

Rogen snorted, not taking the joking very well, but likely telling himself not to overreact.

“Again!” Rogen demanded as he wiped sweat off his forehead.

Meanwhile Hoomar gently knocked Lacy’s strikes aside, showing her by example how to deflect incoming attacks. Then when Lacy said she was ready, they switched, and Hoomar attacked while Lacy tried her best to emulate his actions. Learning spear arts was slow going, but it was necessary.

Plus, Hoomar wore a big goofy grin while they fought, which really got across how much he enjoyed teaching and fighting, since he normally lived his life with a blank expression.

After some time of trading wins with Rogen, Shu exclaimed, “Okay, that’s enough playing around! It’s time for the real training!”

Rogen leaned on his spear and took a deep breath before he asked, “What do you mean?"

Shu pointed her spear at Lacy, who was struggling to land a hit on Hoomar.

“You should fight our dear Lacy. She’s a beast.”

Lacy stepped back from attacking Hoomar, took some deep breaths, and smiled kindly at Rogen.

“If you’re up for it, Rogen.”

Rogen stood frozen in time as the gears in his head turned. Eventually, he put up a defensive hand and said, “I really mean no disrespect, Lacy, but from what I have witnessed of your training with Hoomar…your spear arts do not compare to ours. Is there a different kind of combat you would like to engage in?”

The Yellowvine guard watching over them snickered softly, which did not escape Rogen.

His cheeks, already red from all the exercise, brightened further.

“Is this a joke at my expense?”

Shu’s cheeky smile deepened.

“I assure you, Lacy will decimate any of us or even all of us if she stops going easy. What you have seen from her training with Hoomar is not all that she’s capable of.”

Another ten seconds passed as everyone stared at Rogen, who was having trouble calculating how what Shu said could be true. Finally, he nodded and walked over to Lacy.

“Alright, I will discover what you mean first-hand. Begin whenever you are ready, Lacy, and forgive me if I try too hard.”

“You’re good,” Lacy said as she readied her own spear. “Come at my anytime. One touch is a win.”

Rogen nodded as his eyes moved from Lacy’s wrapped spearhead to her smiling eyes and back. He nodded, then lunged.

The earth at Rogen’s feet sprang to life, gripping one of his shoes and making him trip. A testament to his skills, the man caught himself with his hands without panicking or letting go of the spear, but it did nothing to stop Lacy from prancing on forward and tapping him with her weapon.

The dirt keeping his foot in place crumbled, losing its temporary life as Lacy let go of the earth qi. Then Rogen stood up and just stared.

Another ten seconds of gears turning.

“What…was that?” he asked, his voice trembling some.

Lacy couldn’t help herself and broke into laughter. That didn’t help the guy’s confusion, and he began looking around with wide eyes at all the people who had known something he didn’t. His left hand’s knuckles whitened on the spear haft. He shot glances at the ground, which had betrayed him.

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“Alright, 0 and 1, Rogen to Lacy,” Shu chuckled. “Try again!”

But Rogen didn’t calm, and Lacy’s laughter died down as she realized the man was actually freaking out.

“Dude…I’m a spirit cultivator. I made the ground grab your foot, that’s all,” she said with a forced chuckle, trying to relieve the tension. Shu and Hoomar could feel it too, judging by their expressions.

“Did y-you…” Rogen began, before he gulped and tried again. “Did you b-bring me out here, i-in the wilderness, for a s-sanctioned exec-cution? M-my apology was sincere!”

“Oh, honey,” Lacy couldn’t help herself from saying sympathetically as she slowly put down her spear and raised her hands with the palms facing him. “No, none of that. We just thought it’d be funny to trick you, that’s all…”

The Yellowvine guard stepped forward, and with an authoritative tone, said, “I assure you, Initiate Rogen, that they merely teased you. There will be no executions of anyone unless a crime most foul is committed. Offending a spirit cultivator is by no means even a crime by itself.”

Rogen’s shoulders visibly sagged upon hearing that before he straightened his back. The fear clearly hadn’t all left him.

“That is…good, but we all know that an Elite cultivator may get away with much more than most people simply for the value they provide our nation. She…an Elite cultivator would not be executed for killing a mortal, but the punishments would certainly be light, making it the same as a crime to offend Elite cultivators in at least some instances.”

This time, Lacy answered.

“I mean, probably, but why would I kill you? You yourself told me the way I still gave those three assholes grace even after they insulted me was very generous. That’s who I am. I’m generous, so I forgave you and we moved on. I swear with all my heart, this was just a joke!”

Rogen’s features tightened and he looked like he was holding back tears, but ultimately the man gathered himself, and a weak smile bloomed.

“Your words are very reassuring. I was a fool to imagine the worst. After all, my father knew of you and did not warn me against making your acquaintance, so he must not have feared for me.”

“Exactly!” Lacy said, before picking up her spear and saying, “Do you wanna try again?”

……

The Great One exchanged gold slashes for boulders, and bit through storms of water with shining fangs. They moved in with physical might The Hateful One could not match, yet every time, the air itself pushed them back from their foe, leaving The Great One open to a counterattack by a crushing hoof or the stabbing horn.

The Great One first combated The Hateful One’s aura, unraveling their workings with every shred of willpower they could muster. Yet The Hateful One’s aura was…more vast, dense, and flexible. A tribulation to admit, yet it was the truth.

The Great One then combated The Hateful One with surprise, bounding through entire trees in their pounces, uprooting so much earth that vision was impaired, and even flinging spit and squirting blood. None of it worked. The Hateful One held back, always knowing their angle of attack, always seeing through the dust cloud, unbothered by bodily fluids.

Last, The Great One forewent grace, muscling through The Hateful One’s enviable workings of water, earth, and wind. They exhausted blood essence for temporary gain, cutting directly through defensive structures, aiming to inflict any damage possible. But it was not worth it. The Hateful One, an entire evolution behind, still held strong, only suffering one strike to a forelimb.

So The Great One retreated.

They did not fail.

They did not flee.

The Great One would be back.

It was not out of fear.

It was a tactical decision.

The Great One was not weaker.

Prey was weak. The Great One was not prey.

The Great One shook the world with their roar of indignation. They would need blood essence to recuperate. Fortunately, they had smelled traces of humans some time ago. Those prey were easy to indulge on.

Humans found strength in numbers, which was false strength.

……

Autberry strolled between buildings and barracks under the cover of darkness, hands held behind his back, feet barely touching the ground. He glided and pranced more than anything else, ever practicing his arts, his movements, his mind.

The dual Sprout also watched for threats to his charges; his aura constantly reshaping in order to sweep the surroundings in a circle around him farther than his default range would permit. He couldn’t quite see through the use of his aura—he was not yet a Sapling—but it did still interact with all manner of qi. When a beast was within his aura he could easily differentiate its orderly qis from the chaotic, atmospheric ones.

The man felt a great concentration of fate on himself. How could it be a coincidence that just as his service to the crown was coming to an end, a talented spirit Seed woman would arrive at his camp? Not just that, because she could have been an ordinary citizen, but instead claimed to have no history.

Her powers could not be faked. She was certainly a spirit Seed. However, her origins were up in the air.

The theory Autberry would bet had crossed many Yellowvine officials’ minds was that she was a young but powerful spirit of some sort that manifested in human form. She wouldn’t be the first, but they could not prove that theory lest risk the woman’s life. As rare as the event, documentation of such happenings existed, and the manner of treasures possible to be refined from a spirit’s remains were also known.

She was far more useful alive than dead, was Autberry’s opinion, so he leaned more toward hoping she was the offspring of powerful people who did not want their heir to be raised in the caustic environment of the bigger cities, constantly juggling one’s cultivation with their status, thinking just as long about one’s image as one’s power.

It was a terrible way to live—Autberry had bore witness to a few promising individuals losing themselves in such a way—and if that was truly her background, Autberry would be pleased to know she had wise guardians.

Guardians who might be watching this very moment, undetectable to a mere Sprout, even if dual. Not the most settling thought, but not nearly the worst possibility.

The worst possibility to the dual Sprout was that she might be a hidden expert. He did not know quite how that worked, but he knew it was possible, and he hoped dearly against it. If Lacy was such a person then his odds of roping her along on his journey were much closer to nil than he would like. A spirit could be raised. The guardians of a talented heir might allow her to adventure. But a hidden expert had their own agenda, and likely some unpalatable features of their personality that they kept hidden.

Ancient people were rarely nice to be around.

But of course, like every other night, Autberry shook those thoughts from his head. No proof was available to tell one idea clearer than another. In an effort not to distract himself, he focused on the simplest answers: Lacy was but a talented commoner who suffered memory loss, or a fortunate heir. Either way, her origins were of no concern to him until his service officially ended and she proved herself a capable dual cultivator.

Autberry had a good feeling about the future. There were so many mysterious locations, thriving cities, and eccentric figures he planned to visit. If he could bring along a promising companion it would be all the better. Especially if she could become a wood specialist. That element’s utility was unrivaled in the hands of a dual cultivator who could not rely on a team’s auxiliary support.