“Here. Feed your brother this,” Shuren said, bringing out a pill the size of a marble. It exuded a wisp of Qi unseen by mortals, containing an aspect of improved healing. A Rank 1 Healthsurge Pill.
She looked dumbfounded. “We don’t have money.”
“Do I look that poor? Take it.”
She took the pill and placed it in Qaen’s mouth, helping him swallow it.
“Lead me to the local doctor. I’ll escort Qarn there,” Shuren said.
She bowed down, struggling to put to words her gratefulness. “Sir, my sincerest gratitudes for your help. If there’s anyth-”
“Don’t waste my time and lead the way.” Shuren cut her off, carrying Qaen. He felt his blood smudge all over his shirt, but Shuren bared with it. It would be even more humiliating if he couldn’t even help an injured man.
This was the mandate of the righteous cultivators, taught to Shuren in his youth by the Liu Clan.
The First Mandate, to uphold justice.
The Second Mandate, to cultivate virtues and suppress vices.
The Third Mandate, to revere elders and masters.
The Fourth Mandate, to swear loyalty to one’s clan, sect, masters and parents.
The Fifth Mandate, to respect the founding ancestors and Grand Immortals.
The Sixth Mandate, to protect all mortals, the weak and innocent.
And the Seventh Mandate, to destroy all evil that threaten the righteous.
If I want to become Patriarch of the Liu Clan, I must be an example to all. This is the reputation I must develop.
And though he walked with Qaen on his back, Shuren steeled himself. If he wanted to take over his clan, he had to be the perfect example as a righteous cultivator. If he wanted to pursue the Sword Path, he had to train without stopping, in preparation of reaching Rank 2.
And if Shuren wanted to find the truth behind the death of his grandfather, and learn the true conspiracies behind the world of cultivation, hidden behind the curtain of ascension…
He had to take over the Seven Clouds Sect like a storm of blades. To come first in the sect finale, destroy everyone in his way, and get on a smooth path of becoming an elder of the sect.
Shuren sharpened his eyes with resolve. In preparation for tomorrow.
Walking past the debilitated buildings and scorching gazes of the bystanders, Shuren followed the Qaen’s sister towards an open central area, at the corner of the Commercial District that ran across Cloud City.
“The doctor is nearby, in the dark orange building. You can leave my idiot brother Qaen here. I’ll take him there,” With great effort she said, careful with every word.
“Do you think I tire of such a menial task?” Shuren ignored her words, reaching at the doorsteps of the doctor’s building in a few seconds, leaving her behind.
Feeling the stench and blood of Qaen on his back, Shuren could only narrow his eyes. The Huang Clan… Whoever it is amongst them, I’ll inform father of this matter to be careful.
While carrying Qaen to the nearby doctor in their district, Shuren could only ruminate on the Huang Clan. They’re the biggest clan in Cloud City which manufactures Zeal Artifacts and has the best local Weapon Smithers. Is someone amongst them really that bored to take over the most downtrodden area of Cloud City, with such an overhanded method at that?
Zeal Artifacts were weapons and accessories that cultivators beyond Rank 2 could utilise and bind to their Talispirit. Many would say that a Zeal Artifact was considered half of your life as a cultivator.
It was all due to the nature of Rank 2. The Path Foundation realm. After going through the 12 stages of Rank 1, you would reach a wall in cultivation. And the only way forward was to form your own Path, attuned to your talents, and way of life.
It was when you could go from manipulating Qi to converting and transforming Qi into your own mystical force, giving it aspects of the nigh innumerable elements and paths that existed in this world. You could turn your own Qi into Wind Qi, when using the power of nature, or turn Qi into Metal Qi, to enhance the power of bladed weapons or manipulate ores.
And with a Zeal Artifact complementary to your Path, and bound to your soul, could you form your Talispirit.
Talisbody was to develop your body to endure and withstand higher ranks.
Talisoul was the step to understanding your soul and the world within.
Talispirit was the spirit of all cultivators, formed from the mystical resources in the world, to attune it with both your body and soul. But these were a matter for those beyond Rank 2.
Naturally, Shuren’s goal was to reach the Sword Path.
Having found the small orange building, Shuren recognised it as his destination.
There was no door to this building, but rather a curtain barring the way. Initially, he thought it was out of lack of funds for a door, but he realised the curtains made it far easier for the entry of the injured. He even felt a cool swarm of Qi emanating from those curtains as he passed through, and the dirt and sweat that clung to his body dissipated in a few seconds. This doctor… He inscribed a formation to ensure hygiene and cleanliness upon entry? Impressive.
There was a pair of men talking at the reception table ahead. One, a Vulfoan man with a straw hat and orange hair like the hues of evening, and the other, a Silvent man with light-green hair wrapped in a bun wearing glasses. “It’s just a cracked rib. He’ll be fine in a week or so if he takes his medicine. Don’t worry too much, Kraus,” The Silvent said.
“Doctor. I have a patient for you.” Shuren lowered his back to allow the Qaen to stand, and his sister helped as well, grabbing the support of his shoulder.
The green-haired Silvent left his table, hurrying to the old man. “What are these injuries? It’s even worse than the last patient. Exactly who did you offend?!”
Qaen could only sweat. The worst injuries had been delivered by this young master himself!
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Leading him to the back of the desk where all the patients were dealt with, the doctor ranted to Kraus. “I’m telling you, we need you to act. More and more of our people are getting treated like trash! It’s getting even worse than five years ago out of nowhere!” His assistants came by then, taking the injured man away.
The man known as Kraus looked down at his feet in contemplation.
And the Silvent doctor glanced towards Shuren, nodding his head. “Thank you for your help, young man. If you have any information on what he went through for these injuries, I can quickly figure out the worst problems.”
He could only shake his head. “His state was like this by the time I found him. Ah, but I can say he suffered blunt trauma in his abdomen. He’s ingested a Rank 1 Healthsurge Pill, so his natural healing will be increased for three days.”
The doctor and Kraus both looked at each other with a clear expression of surprise. They knew the true value of the pill. Though it wasn’t a divine panacea capable of regenerating limbs or curing all poisons, it was still a valuable pill for cultivators.
Pill Concocting was an art that required both the pill and the user to work in tandem to reap the most benefits. Though to a mortal, the effects would be more than enough as it is, to cultivators, pills would gift their Qi an aspect of the Paths.
A healing pill would allow their Qi to temporarily gain healing benefits, so long as the cultivator cycled their Qi throughout their body. Ingesting a pill was always a small game of containing balance with consumption, and the better you were at it, the further benefits you could receive.
Using pills to drug your way to the top? Sure, if you wanted to destroy your foundations and ruin your chances of becoming a powerful cultivator, you could do it. You could risk death with Crystallised Qi Overdose, crippling your Spiritual Meridians. But an expert cultivator, even amongst powerful clans, would be made with pills serving to best complement your cultivation, rather than overtaking it.
Shuren held a light smile, smirking to them that he was clearly strapped for cash, and such a pill was of little matter to him.
“Kiddo, if you ever need help from my people, come back here and we’ll give you a hand,” Kraus said, with clear amethyst eyes observing Shuren.
Shuren turned his back, heading back to his destination. “If you want to give a hand, go swarm Formation Master Zelfin with some new students. I hear he’s been looking around, teaching kids for free.”
“W-wait,” Qaen struggled to say, coming from the back. He bowed his head, resting his palm on his chest. “Thank you for everything. I can’t offer much, but let Zelfin know if you need anything from me.”
His sister followed as well, paying her respects.
“Just do your job well if you’re becoming a teacher. Teach some common sense to the kids in this area.”
Without hearing another word, and ignoring the peculiar gaze of everyone, Shuren left the building. His shirt clung to his skin, full of sweat and blood. The urge to shower and scrub every corner of his body surged, but he took a deep breath and sped up to grab his new robes off Zelfin. Let’s see if he appreciates his new gift soon.
In less than an hour, Shuren left Zelfin’s building, accomplished his request, and made it back. A small matter to him.
With the academy building in sight, Shuren leapt from the nearby building, entering it with haste.
“You really did make it within an hour,” Formation Master Zelfin commented, focused on his book as he continued to write.
“I’ve done the legwork. You deal with the rest. Does your building have a line to the water reserves?”
A slight smile grew on Zelfin’s face. “Yes, we have taps around the back of the building. You can wash up there.”
Taking his robes, Shuren went to clean himself up, though struggling with no towels nearby, he was forced to fold up his dirtied shirt, wearing the robe as is. I’ll head to a decent tavern nearby to rest up. There’s no point heading back home.
“Send a letter to the factory head, Veseil. Aside from Qaen, you can grab another four workers. I’ll ask my father to fix up this little place as well. You’ll be needing more space.”
Passing by the building rooms, Shuren asked Zelfin one final question before leaving. “I hear you’ve been crippled for a few years. You were once a powerful Formation Master, one of the most famous cultivators in your homeland.” He thought back to a figure whose back was as wide as the tallest mountain, as sturdy as a great wall. “How… How does it feel now? Is there regret?”
Zelfin took his eyes off the pieces of paper, facing Shuren. He chuckled. “You worry too much about your father. What makes you think the life of a cultivator ends by just being crippled? So long as I live, and the Grand Paths exist, there is always hope to cultivate once more. The only dead end is the one your mind makes up. For there is always a path to be made.”
“And that is the Testament of the Paths. With the breath of the Architect, the Heavens were formed. With the advent of the Firstborne, the Paths of Cultivation were spread throughout the world. So long as one lives, the Paths will always be present,” Shuren looked to his right, and both he and Zelfin looked eye to eye.
But each pair of eyes held a different light, intrinsically unique to them.
“Precisely. There are many ways to regain the honour to cultivate, and I’m sure your father knows this well.” Zelfin said. “Take your time to read through the Testament of the Architect. I believe it holds lessons and opportunities of comprehension to both mortals and Immortals.”
Shuren held his right palm up, staring at the calluses on his hands. From wielding a weapon all his life. “I remember the stories as a child. But perhaps I’ll take another read.”
The path… I’ll forge my path to one with the sword. I’ll make sure of it!
Zelfin cleared his table of the paperwork and books. “About your sister, don’t worry too much. It’s best for her to face these lessons early on than later on in the world of cultivators. Don’t spoil her too much.”
Shuren scoffed. “You have a point. I’ll be taking my leave, Formation Master Zelfin.” With those words, he left the building.
Zelfin steepled his hands as he slouched back in the chair, seeing Shuren walk away. “His obsession is a ravenous hunger. But he will let that swallow him, or will he temper it into a powerful blade?”
----------------------------------------
The next day, over a thousand finalists had gathered near the base of the Seven Clouds Sect. Its base was the main military force of Cloud City, the Evening Clouds, where most outer disciples were situated. Either they would become an Inner Disciple, specialise in a vocation such as smithing or pill refining, or be garrisoned as a Cloud Knight, as the front lines of their province.
All of them were easily qualified to be Outer Disciples, but the finale was their opportunity to be scouted out by elders, becoming Inner Disciples and potentially being sponsored to be groomed into a Core Disciple.
Ten giant flat stages levitated off the ground, ethereal clouds both blossoming beneath it, and crystals refracting around it to showcase the view.
“I didn’t expect the young master of the Liu Clan to be here,” Overseer Juan said, by chance having recognised his friend’s son. “I believed you were to enter the sect as a delegate of the Liu Clan?”
Liu Shuren clasped both his hands, bowing to Overseer Juan. “Sir Juan, it is an honour to meet you. As for that matter… There is no point in me joining as an exemplified guest,” he spoke with respect.
Overseer Juan’s eyes flickered with intrigue, his hand fidgeting with his brown beard. “Very good,” he said, before switching back to a stern tone. “You are selected for the tenth stadium. Make haste,” he ordered Shuren.
Shuren bowed his head swiftly before leaving, seeking not to waste Overseer Juan’s time. The surrounding crowd had long made space around them, all with an assortment of perplexed expressions. They didn’t expect one of the experts flying in the clouds to personally start a conversation with one of the contestants. Furthermore, none could even hear the contents of their discussion, even though the Overseer didn’t even use a technique in front of them.
None dared to make a sound to disturb the two, and silently watched Overseer Juan step on a small tuft of clouds before returning to the sky.
Shuren strode forth, a wooden staff in tow. One of the prerequisite weapons he had picked out, the rack almost untouched compared to the wooden swords, axes, hammers, and spears. Those who saw him move with such vigour naturally made the way seeing the scowl on his face.
I have to come out on top. If I can’t become an Inner Disciple immediately, I’ll be wasting at least a year floundering about as a mere Outer Disciple. I must rank first!
In front of Shuren, an absurdly rotund backpack waddled its way through the crowd, in the direction of Shuren. The person under it ran around with a worried expression, almost smashing into Shuren.
Naturally, he dodged as easily as he breathed. But he stopped the man with an arm. “Fool, the least you can do is watch where you’re going.”
“Sorry! I’m just trying to find the tenth stadium. Someone told me to go this wa-” Tez froze in his position when he noticed Shuren.
The scowl on his face had been replaced with a curious gaze, an eyebrow raised as he said, “Oh, to think we would battle in the same arena? Fate sure is fickle. Boy, you have eyes but are blind to Zhenren’s Throat. The tenth stadium is in the opposite direction.” Watching Tez’s face contort with anger was amusing. A pathetic Stage 2 in Qidense Realm dared to bare fangs at him.
He wouldn’t show mercy. He had to defeat everyone in his way.
Shuren couldn’t help but smirk. This person could never be an obstacle.
“Don’t worry. I’ll put you in your place soon.”