Since he had begun the training for the pair, Anton had always expected Botros to be the first to confront him. Nasima was confident enough to do so, but she had less worldly experience and might not understand the greater implications of what was happening with his cultivation training.
Yet somehow, people always managed to find ways to surprise him. Considering there were two options to pick from, one of them had to be correct, didn’t it?
But of course, he’d completely neglected one factor. It was a failure in his judgment, to be sure, but such was the way of the world.
One evening, Anton nodded to himself with pleasure about the progress of his budding disciples. They were doing quite well, especially considering the place they were starting out.
It was impossible for Anton to be physically surprised by someone’s presence. He could sense everyone in a wide distance around him without even trying. So when his disciples walked off and the door to his warehouse swung open, he wasn’t surprised by the physical act. Just that someone had shown up.
Aykorkem Salim, daughter-in-law of Botros and mother of Nasima, strode into the building with confidence. Or at least an impressive facsimile of it. She made her way right up to Anton and demanded, “What did you do to my family?”
“You’ll have to be more clear. I haven’t done anything to anyone,” Anton said. “And your family would be… Botros and Nasima, I presume? They are my main workers here. Your daughter looks quite like you.”
“She’s more like her father,” Aykorkem replied. “But you will not distract me.” She straightened her back. “It would be a dark day indeed when I was unable to recognize cultivators. What did you do to them?”
Anton had no intention to lie to her, especially not when the topic came up so directly. He simply wanted to choose his words carefully. “Everything that has happened to them is under their own efforts. You have a misplaced view of cultivation if you think it can simply be forced upon someone.” At best, it would be a temporary boost that injured people afterwards. And Anton was quite certain his two disciples were healthier in all manners.
“So you admit it. How could you?” She glared at him, pressing her finger into his chest.
“I see you have some problems with cultivators,” Anton said, gently brushing away her hand. “But perhaps it would be helpful if I knew why?”
A moment of hesitation. Secrecy lost out to anger. “Cultivators killed my husband,” Aykorkem declared furiously.
“I am so sorry to hear that,” Anton bowed his head. “Many of my children and grandchildren suffered the same fate.”
“But you-”
Insight drove Anton to continue, “And I think you are not saying something.” He went a bit softer than accusing her of hiding something or lying. “You recognize cultivators without being one yourself. Perhaps even before you family truly understood the signs in themselves. Why is that?”
Aykorkem took a deep breath as she folded her arms across her chest. “My husband… was a cultivator as well.”
“Indeed,” Anton said. “And he concealed it from you, perhaps?”
Her face softened in surprise. “How do you…?”
“Experience,” Anton replied. “Cultivation does more than make someone into a mighty warrior.”
“Yes. It attracts trouble.”
“Do you truly believe that?” Anton asked. “In my experience, trouble comes no matter what. Cultivation is simply a means to grow to fight against that trouble.”
“Fighting is where the trouble is,” Aykorkem declared. “Violence breeds violence.”
“That is true, to a great extent,” Anton conceded. “But I imagine the only difference there would have been if your husband was not a cultivator is that you and your remaining family would not be here.”
Aykorkem bit her lip. Hard. “What do you know?”
“I have only heard the stories of many refugees. And I know that I would have died to protect my family, if it would have helped. Without cultivation. But I chose to cultivate to gain the strength to protect whoever was left.” Anton gestured around the building, “You can see that I have not been teaching combat here. They’ve merely been moving my goods around for me and developing their muscles.”
“Why?”
This was where he had to be brutally honest. “Because potential disciples aren’t much good if their bodies aren’t healthy,” Anton said. Then he transitioned directly into his pitch. “A strong body is important for more than just feeling good or hard labor. You have the look of a seamstress, perhaps? Fine details are easier to create when your hands obey your precise intent. And tempering your skin can protect against annoying needle pricks.”
The mother narrowed her eyes at him. “You sound like you know much.”
“I’ve met with many different people and trained them to develop themselves to suit their specific needs,” Anton said.
“Then why not continue with them? Why come here, for us? What happened to the others?”
“Some of them moved away, and others are living quite happily. But I decided to expand my ventures, so I came here quite far from home.” Anton had studied Poriza well enough to declare he came from a specific far away place, but he didn’t want to directly lie if he didn’t have to. “And I’d rather start with decent working folk who have something to gain.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Aykorkem tilted her head. “What is your goal?”
“To promote the growth of my sect. And that is best accomplished through the growth of its members.”
“So you say,” she replied, clearly not yet convinced.
“How well do you read?” Anton asked.
“Well enough,” she said. “... Why?”
“I can show you what I have been teaching your family,” Anton pulled out the Body Tempering portion of One Hundred Stars, written for the local language. “This will be more than sufficient to provide an overview.”
Aykorkem reached out for it, then recoiled as her hand touched it. “... what is it? It’s hot.”
“You can feel that?” Anton asked. “It is infused with remnants of my natural energy to keep it in good condition. But it is not actually hot.” The woman snatched it from his hands, opening it to a random page. “If you find words you have trouble understanding, there is a glossary at the back.”
The book snapped close. She looked Anton straight in the eye. “You want to make warriors of us all.”
“I want to make people the best they can be. Unfortunately, the way of the world requires that many learn how to fight to resist those who are already doing so.” Anton shook his head. “Those who caused you this pain did not suddenly cease to exist just because they took so much from you.”
Aykorkem looked down at the tome in her hands. “And what if they don’t want to be your disciples?”
Anton shrugged, “If any of you don’t want to, you are welcome to do as you please.” He didn’t think he needed to provide a warning about despicable behavior. That was part of his initial assessment. The woman turned around to walk out. Still carrying the tome, of course. Anton knew she would read through it even without following her with his senses. “Do be careful with that. It is quite valuable to those who know the worth.” He didn’t want to have to protect them from someone trying to rob it. He would, but it would make things more complicated.
-----
Anton had purchased a few adjacent parcels of land, a few kilometers outside of Krosburgh. Not so far that there would be no interaction with the city, but not so close as to be immediately noticed when he started doing more than farming. His work with Varghese had indeed resulted in a powerful sect within merely half a century, but Poriza was going to need more work. The lower levels of natural energy meant that cultivation would be slower, until he could bring about some worldwide changes. Farming was how he knew best, but he needed to do more than just go around personally teaching people. He needed influence more than raw power. By this world’s metrics, he probably had more raw power than the rest of everyone put together.
But things besides farming would come later. For now, the plots of land would be used to grow a variety of nourishing crops that he would bolster with his own natural energy. From there, he would turn around and sell them to those in need. He wanted to farm energy producing crops, but that would be too much of a jump for the local economy to handle and would also draw too much attention to him too early.
Working with his own hands was something Anton still enjoyed very much. Tilling the earth, planting seeds, watering them, and rooting out weeds. The last of those was a trickier proposition than it seemed at first. During the early stages of growth it was easy to pull up good plants with the weeds. It required careful work. Though with the benefit of energy senses, Anton could see which roots went where and disentangle things as needed. But from the perspective of a normal farmer, it was a difficult job.
The soil in the area Anton had purchased had only been passable, but it turned out that several system’s worth of agricultural engineering knowledge had many ways to cheaply develop soil. Some of it required significant manual labor gathering and adding minerals in the right quantities, but that was exactly the sort of thing Anton liked. The soil would be about twice as productive in his hands as it was before- and he was only just getting started.
-----
Nasima and Botros returned for work the next day, so it was clear that Aykorkem had done nothing so extreme as forbid them from showing up. They likely needed the money, after all. While he was paying them a decent amount, part of the extra money they made was spent on food. Anton was thinking about paying them more, but he didn’t want to start too high for fear of scaring them off.
The granddaughter was still on the verge of completing the first star. Her success could come about at any moment, after which Anton would need to be more explicit about the training. Improving the whole body for the foundational stage came somewhat naturally, but there were choices to be made following that. No matter what cultivation method was used, it required more than casual continuance of the same patterns.
-----
When Aykorkem returned two days later, Anton smiled slightly. He gave the family as much privacy as he could while watching out for their safety, but he’d still felt the tugs on natural energy. And he could feel the very beginnings of cultivation within the woman.
She came once again after her family had left, knowing well their timing. “Tell me what is wrong with me,” she demanded as she approached Anton.
He raised an eyebrow, “I don’t particularly see anything wrong with you.” Even her somewhat inflated confidence was an endearing quality in some ways. “So, what are you referring to?”
“Botros and my daughter both became stronger very quickly,” Aykorkem said. “I can’t see such an improvement in myself.”
Anton nodded, “That is likely because you failed to apply the association principles. In short, exercise along with the use of natural energy. And I don’t mean casual exercise,” Anton said. “Look, try one of these crates and you’ll know what the two of them are probably complaining about.”
“I have not heard any specific complaints,” she admitted. Anton was surprised, because even if they didn’t do it in front of their boss, a bit of casually complaining around family was normal. But perhaps they didn’t wish to cause her any concern. “But I will see what you are talking about.”
She was a fairly fit woman- anyone of low status would have to be to survive. Even a woman with her occupations had to do more than just sew all the time, and that was physically demanding in its own ways. She tried to move one of the lightest training boxes, and could do nothing but barely slide it around on the floor. Frowning, she tried another- only to realize it was even heavier.
“If you use the active strengthening techniques, you can likely lift it off the floor,” Anton said. “But it’s not as if you have any reason to.”
That didn’t stop her. Unsurprisingly, the drive that had attracted him to this family unit also included a bit of stubbornness. Aykorkem seemed determined to overcome the challenge. Anton felt her breathing in to capture natural energy. He wondered if a few hints would not go awry. No, she would probably have to ask first. She seemed like the type to fight against unsolicited advice, at least until she trusted someone.
Her stubbornness won out, and she eventually slipped her fingers under the crate and lifted. Anton was ready to support her body at any instant if her movements were liable to injure her, but her form was good. Unfortunately, her strength had its limits. The burst of natural energy she used to lift faded away and caused the crate to drop from her hands.
Anton slipped his foot out to catch it. “Not bad,” he said. “Are you gunning for a promotion to primary disciple? Because with a bit of work, I think you might make it.”
She just folded her arms in front of her- perhaps to soothe her strained muscles while hiding it. “Can you really do anything practical with cultivation?”
“My dear lady, if lifting heavy things isn’t practical I don’t know what is,” Anton grinned. But at the same time he pulled out a needle and thread, along with some cloth. He spun the needle in his fingers. “But I’ve picked up some techniques over the years you might be interested in seeing.”