Holding the antique sword like a child holding a blanket, Shao walked back toward the entrance to the Armory. Though the first floor wasn’t that large, the rows of weapon displays made it easy to get lost in. The others were talking, but Shao was too busy thinking about the feeling of holding the sword to listen. He wondered if blacksmiths felt like this when they were separated from their tools.
“Huh. I didn’t know we still had any swords in the koto style,” the Quartermaster said as he looked down at Shao’s sword.
The mention of swords caught Shao’s attention, and he looked up at the Quartermaster. “What’s the koto style?”
“It’s an old way to make katanas that nobody’s used in about two hundred years. Compared to shinto blades, koto blades have a more pronounced curve and a slightly thicker blade. The koto school of swordmaking died out because such blades took more time to make and the swords didn’t hold their edge as well as the new shinto blades. In terms of benefits, koto blades are sturdier and deal more damage when used as a club.”
“Why would I use my sword as a club?”
Liu Dan took a step forward and cleared his throat. “Excuse me. I haven’t explained this yet, but most fights between disciples of Shigong Temple occur with the sheath still on the sword. You only draw your sword when you intend to kill your opponent.”
That explained why so many of the sheaths were damaged, Shao thought. The disciples were smacking each other with them to train their swordsmanship without killing one another. Absent-mindedly, Shao rubbed his chest where the sheath of Wei Fenhua’s sword struck him, shattered his ribs, and punctured his lungs.
“Enough about the past,” the Quartermaster said, waving away the previous conversation. “It’s time for me to take your measurements. You there, Gao; you go first.”
As Xiahou Ren and Shao made room for Gao Long and the Quartermaster, Shao wondered if the Quartermaster was from one of the major clans. It seemed like everyone other than him was from some ancient clan that had been raising cultivators for tens of thousands of years. It would be awkward to ask for the Quartermaster’s name at this juncture, so he decided against it.
“So, Shao,” Xiahou Ren said, peering at Shao’s chest out of the corner of his eye. “There are a few things I feel the need to mention. Your meridians look a lot stronger than they did the first time I looked at them. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but that hit you took from Wei Fenhua should have messed up your ki pathways and completely crippled your Lung Meridian, even with the healing pill. Are you using some ancient technique that I’m not aware of?”
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Shao’s mind immediately went to his conversation with Pluto. A man less certain of his own sanity would have rationalized that meeting as a hallucination of a dying mind, but he knew everything that happened was real. On the other hand, Shao was certain that no one would believe him. Telling others that, in the second he was unconscious, he was approached by the Death God and told he was the reincarnation of the War God was just asking to be branded a lunatic.
Still, Shao felt that he should give some answer, and it would be too much effort to come up with a complicated lie. Xiahou Ren would most likely interpret the story as a joke, so Shao decided to take the simplest route and tell the truth.
“...And then the Death God opened up your meridians, right?” Xiahou Ren said as Shao neared the end of his explanation.
“In hindsight, that must have been what he did. At the time, though, it seemed like he just poked a bunch of holes in my body.”
“Reincarnation of a War God, huh? That would explain how you were able to become an upper-realm Lianqi without training.”
“There is one more thing. Pluto said there are only nine important people in this world, and you’re one of them. Does that mean anything to you? Because it doesn’t mean jack shit to me.”
“Oh.” Something clicked in Xiahou Ren’s head as he recognized Shao’s words. Any doubt in his mind disappeared, and Ren believed Shao’s story about his close encounter with the Death God.
“You believe me? That’s probably a bad move. I wouldn’t believe me.” Shao sighed as he spoke. It might actually be a bigger problem if Xiahou Ren believed him and started telling everyone that he was the reincarnation of a War God. Shao didn’t want people to start thinking he was crazy, and, even moreso, he didn’t want powerful inner disciples or elders to challenge him for prestige.
“Wait,” Shao said, slowly putting the pieces together. “What is it about you that makes you an important person? If there are only nine, and three are the reincarnations of gods, then I doubt even the Sect Patriarch would count as one.”
“Don’t say that so often,” Xiahou Ren said, frantically looking around the Armory. “Reality itself curls around such words. Yes, I am such a person, and so are you. That’s a long story, so it will have to wait for later.”
Gao Long walked out of an adjoining room wearing a black hakama tailored to his proportions with his brand-new katana sheathed at his hip. He really looked like an outer disciple in that uniform.
“The Gao’s done. You, Xiahou, you’re next.”
Xiahou Ren began to take a step toward the Quartermaster, but Shao had one more question. Shao asked, “There’s one last thing Pluto said that I didn’t understand. Do you know what ‘Jesus’ is?”
Ren exploded into uncontrollable laughter at the mention of that word. “Talk about a long story! I’m just surprised Pluto knows about such things. It seems like there’s a very long conversation in our future.”