Few others were in the area as Strong River encountered the trio. Each of the young men wore an animal skin draped over their shoulders, the clan's sign of a warrior; only those who could hunt and kill a beast themselves were permitted to wear the animal's untanned hide. What, up to a few days ago, would have been particularly galling about these youths was that they held such status while also being a couple years younger than River. While they could hardly stand up to the strength of the clan's elders, these arrogant young men were more than content in lording their status over the weaker members of the tribe.

River guessed that Soaring Wave had scheduled this meeting following his visit with the elders. As Soaring Wave was spoiled by his uncle, he would have known some of what his uncle had planned for the day. Since River had been in seclusion for the past few days, depriving Soaring Wave of a plaything, this was now a matter of catching up on some overdue torment.

The two accompanying him would be his most constant companions, the henchmen he favored the most among the youths who were clambering one over another to earn the favor of a future elder. One was shorter but more solidly built while the other was a lankier, taller young man, and so almost everybody referred to them as Stump and Beanpole since their names weren't important ones. It was well known among the clan that the two henchmen were in the middle of the third-grade of the Human Realm while Soaring Wave himself had recently crossed over into the fourth grade himself.

In other words, to the current River, these swaggering bullies would be as threatening as chickens in his hands.

"Don't be so hasty," Mister Black advised. "We know that Elder Wave has it out for you, and while this is too quick to be a deliberate probe, nonetheless the results of what happens will be in his eye. Why give away your hand when you can keep him in the dark? Let's play this game soft; soon enough they will be far beneath you."

River mentally agreed with Mister Black's plan and proceeded as he would have on any day before this: gaze down, trying his best to pretend he didn't notice them.

"Hey, wimpy!" Soaring Wave greeted, moving to intercept River with his goons. "Long time no see. I hear you got called up before the elders. Slacking off again, aren't you, bad wimpy. Well no worries, we've got lots for you to do."

"Uh, yeah," River put on a front of weak indecisiveness. "The, um, elders said I had the next couple days to myself. You'll, you'll just have to find someone else."

Soaring Wave frowned. "I've heard nothing about it. How do I know you aren't lying?"

River suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the idiot. "Um, your uncle is an elder, can't you confirm it with him?"

Soaring Wave was about to retort when Beanpole leaned over and whispered in his ear. Then he grinned. "Beanie here needs his laundry done. It shouldn't take too long for ya to do that, so I'm gonna go check right now, wimpy. And if you're lying..." Soaring Wave smacked a fist into a palm, "you'll regret it, bigly."

Soaring Wave and the Stump each gave him a glare before walking off in the direction River had come from, leaving him with Beanpole. River didn't care to do as he was told, but that grin convinced him that there was an opportunity to be had here.

"This way, wimp," Beanpole ordered, heading in yet another direction towards the more comfortable series of shacks where warriors and others of similar status lived. River meekly followed without comment.

They soon reached the specific cabin assigned to Beanpole. It was more than twice the size of River's own, and much more solidly built. The benefits of sucking up to those in power were tangible, River mused, but this all would be nothing to him soon enough.

Beanpole opened the door of the cabin, gesturing for River to enter. As he did so, he could not help but wrinkle his nose at a rather pungent smell that wafted through the doorway. The door closed behind them with a slam, Beanpole using his extra head of height to loom over him like a bird of prey.

"Oh yes, I forgot to mention," Beanpole announced, grinning, "there was a bad batch of beans in our stew the other night, and I might've made a bit of a mess in my pants afterward. Hope you don't mind." He gestured at a large wicker basket filled with dirty clothing nearby, his grin growing all the broader and more vicious.

"Thank you for closing the door," River looked Beanpole in the eye and said in a quiet voice.

"Huh?" Beanpole's confusion transformed to fear as River reached up and around, grabbing Beanpole by the nape of the neck and lifting him in the air, much as one would raise a puppy or kitten and with as much apparent ease.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"I said, thank you for closing the door. Otherwise, someone might be seeing this," River shook Beanpole at that last word for emphasis, "and then I would have to explain a few things."

"Y-you can't do this. Soaring Wave--"

"Is just another rodent, slightly bigger," River returned the vicious grin to his would-be tormentor. Maintaining his grip, he shoved Beanpole face first into the soiled basket of laundry.

Then, through his grip on Beanpole's neck, he activated the Blood Devouring Palm.

Beanpole struggled, his arms flailing and his legs kicking against the boarded floor, but to no avail. River felt a stream of energy enter his body, a stream that he had been missing since he had absorbed the last of the lotus' energy. The veins in his body thrummed with excitement as the fresh infusion thickened his blood's density. Beanpole's weak attempts to escape slowed as the euphoria rushed through River.

"You might want to stop right about now, River. It wouldn't do to end up with a corpse here," Mister Black chided.

Reluctantly, River halted the technique. Then he let go and stepped back.

Raising his face, now soiled with dirt and worse, Beanpole took in several great gasps of air. River gave him a moment to catch his breath but kept an eye on him to ensure he didn't try to bolt for the door or yell for help. Luckily for him, the fear of what River would do should he yell was already etched bone deep.

"I won't tell anybody about this if you won't," River offered. "Otherwise, we might have to go for another round--"

"No, no, yes, yes, whatever you say, sir!" Beanpole required little coercion after the results of their encounter were clear to him. If the other warriors found out how he'd been manhandled by the notorious weakling...

"That's good. I am glad we could come to a swift and agreeable solution to our problems, then." River smiled. "It was nice having this chat with you, Beanpole. Now clean yourself and your own laundry up, you're a total mess."

A bit green in the face, Beanpole nodded in agreement as River moved to exit the cabin.

"Oh, and Beanpole?" River stopped right before opening the door.

"Yes, sir?"

"You might want to wash what you're wearing now, too." River made a show of waving the air in front of his nose before opening the door and leaving the cabin. He shut it behind him and exhaled, adopting his downcast subservient posture as he headed back towards his own meager hovel.

"You broke the connection on the palm technique before killing him. That's a success. But what do you plan to do when they find out?" Mister Black praised and then queried, a teacher quizzing his student.

River grinned. "What's there for them to find out? Besides the chief, nobody else in the clan can use essence to tell what level my body refinement is actually at, and if he finds out all I have to do is tell the story as it happened, minus using the palm."

"What the palm takes doesn't return, you know," Mister Black reminded his student.

"I know, but just now I almost suffocated him in his own clothing, including his own special additions to it. Who knows, maybe that will have made him a bit ill? How am I to know or care since he set himself up there. And if in a few years they finally notice how his potential has stalled, well, by then who would be in a position to blame me anyway? Right, Mister Black?"

Mister Black chuckled. "We'll make a cultivator out of you yet, young man. And what are your plans now?"

River reached his hovel at this point and slid inside, closing the door behind him before standing up straight. "I have something of a feeling, Mister Black. Beanpole can't make it public what happened in there, but it doesn't mean that Soaring Wave won't know, and if he knows, then Elder Wave will also be informed of it. Both of them have it out for me, and while it would be beneath them to make an open move since the elders are trying to figure out what to do with me and there will be a vacancy in the hunting team Soaring Wave belongs to--"

Mister Black laughed at that, sounding rather pleased. "You think they're going to send you out with them and then teach you a lesson out of sight?"

River's grin sunk into a grim, flat look. "Oh, no, Mister Black. While I don't doubt that they'll have some of that to let off some steam and make me think that's all, I'd be a fool to think it'll end there. I've touched one of their people now. Being an eyesore that is gaining in unknown strength rather than remaining safely under their feet... no, I think I'm supposed to have a hunting accident on my very first outing. A tragic lesson that some idiot children just can't be helped."

"Good man. Top marks," Mister Black approved. "So what will you do about it?"

"Go along with it. I need an excuse to go out and acquire some real experience and opportunities, don't I? If they want to keep it to some simple, stupid bullying, I can easily put them in their place and keep my peaceful days in this clan."

"And if they don't?"

"One hunting accident is as good as another. Otherwise, if my peaceful days in this clan are going to come to an end, so must the peaceful days of many others come to an end."

River resumed his meditation with gusto, eager to assimilate the small gains he had acquired from Beanpole. Absorbing the energy of heaven and earth was okay, but devouring the energies of treasures and living beings was so much more efficacious. River thus had an excellent feeling about going out.

For a couple days, nothing changed for River as he handled his personal routine without interruption or even seeing hide nor hair of Soaring Wave or his lackeys. The energy from Beanpole was enough to nudge River closer to the latter end of the fifth grade of the Human Realm but wasn't enough to break the bottleneck quite yet. It was about what could be expected when only partially devouring a third-grade rodent like him.

On the fourth morning following the meeting with the elders, a woman brought River a message from them: due to a shortage in personnel and in light of his recent gains, River was to be sent to the warrior camp to provide help while receiving training in the field.

"I love it when I'm right," the two men in one body, one young and one old, mused together.