They arrived in less than a minute. Without much fanfare, Lindani stopped at the entrance and took out two slips of paper. He handed them to Xerion.
“These are your choices,” he said.
The old man seemed to hesitate as he did so, as if fighting with himself whether to utter some words of wisdom or encouragement. He didn’t, inner conflict resolved, with Xerion so absorbed in the reading that he failed to even notice it took place.
Fascinating, he thought as his eyes scanned over the papers. The first method was as straightforward as it was lackluster.
[Nineseal Physique] (Expert+)
An auxiliary body cultivation method created by the combined efforts of countless Practitioners throughout the ages.
Refinement of the body is a necessary step for those hoping to go far on the road of cultivation. Unfortunately for most, even such a basic process may have high requirements on the Practitioner’s talent. Nearly all high-grade methods rely on a particular affinity, a special quality, to power their workings. This technique bypasses this problem.
This method disregards the peculiarities of a Practitioner’s essence, taking no note of whether it’s based on a concept, an element, or a force. By doing so, the physique of one who uses it will become directionless yet pure, which carries a number of advantages and disadvantages.
The biggest upside of this method is simple: it can be exchanged for a different one at any point in time, without raising the difficulty of using the following technique to heights untold. This quality makes this method very appealing to those undecided on their path, and those who wish for greater things in the future.
A balance has to be maintained, however. A pure body shall forever stay a body unworthy of note. This method’s grade will never surpass Expert, and its Attribute gains are commensurate with such.
Nineseal Physique is limited to the first three Ranks of cultivation. It’s impossible to advance further without first changing the method to a more specialized one.
Plenty of interesting information, but Xerion decided not to dwell too much on it. There was little point in doing so, without first checking out the second method. His eyes scanned over the paper and…
Damn, he thought and breathed deeply. His palms clenched into fists, ruffling the previously-smooth paper.
[Empyrean Revivification] (Half-Step Grandmaster)
An auxiliary body cultivation method created by the combined efforts of the surviving members of the Empyrean Clan.
Created in a bid to restore the Empyrean Clan to its former glory, after the destruction brought upon it by the Dawn of the Dark. Those who remained, mere children with little to no guidance, set on the path of creating something capable of containing the tyrannical Heartfire. They failed. But each generation refined this method further, even if the progress has stalled in the last couple of millennia.
This method’s foundation is based on the original body cultivation method of the Empyrean Clan. The scraps of understanding held by surviving Practitioners of the Second Rank weren’t enough to truly recreate it, but were enough for a start. Unfortunately, as they died, so did the knowledge necessary to improve the technique.
Many prodigies arose during the age known as the Void’s Reign, and their unique insights brought this method to the heights seen today.
Empyrean Revivification uses the conflict of the outer Negative Emotional Essence with the inner Positive Emotional Essence. Through the clashes of those conceptual powers, the physique of this method’s Practitioners becomes not only more suitable for channeling their Essence, but also more resistant to the devastating effects brought by its opposite.
In addition, thanks to this technique’s focus on the improvement of the Constitution Attribute, its Practitioners are able to shrug off weaker attacks and easily heal from the damage done by stronger ones.
Due to its origin, only the first two layers have ever been created. To add to that, the inexperience of this method’s creators led to it becoming highly unstable. Cultivate with caution.
Xerion held little love for his clan, but he wasn’t heartless. Those tiny lines of text contained so much sorrow and struggle, so many years spent on a fruitless pursuit of something unattainable. Something that should’ve been theirs by right, as the descendants of the Empyrean.
But the sadness filling his chest was little more than a candleflame, when compared to the sun’s inferno of rage. The void didn’t come from nowhere. He suspected it to have been an attack of sorts, unleashed by some ancient enemies of his people.
And those wastes of air, the ones responsible for it, would feel his wrath in time. He’d find a way out of the darkness, and repay this transgression a thousandfold. This much, he owed to the clan.
Xerion dipped his head, spending a minute in silence, to commemorate the efforts put into creating this technique. He carved the words that made up its description, especially those detailing its history, onto his heart. He wouldn’t forget them.
But despite his feelings, he had some very pointed questions. He suspected old man Lindani wouldn’t appreciate them much.
“Just ask,” the Keeper said simply, as if reading Xerion’s mind.
“We had the original method, even after the Dawn. There were people who knew it. Something doesn’t add up.”
“That wasn’t a question,” Lindani pointed out.
“Why didn’t any of them break through to the Third Rank? What really happened?”
“Exactly what I told you,” Lindani said, waving his hand to forestall Xerion’s objections. “We didn’t have the method. A couple of people knew how to get to the peak of the second layer, but no further. They lacked the knowledge of how the breakthrough should proceed, and that was enough to doom them all.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Xerion took a couple of slow, measured breaths. It allowed him to collect himself. The anger at what he just learned - the sad history of his people - weighed heavily on his chest. It wanted to lash out, at anything, anyone, even a friend. The geezer didn’t deserve that.
When he spoke next, a modicum of calm returned to him.
“Okay,” he said, then with more conviction. “Okay. Why wouldn’t they have the knowledge? I don't understand how that could be possible. And why didn’t they write down what they knew, the first and the second layer? Seems like the obvious thing to do.”
Lindani gave him a derisive look. “Oh yes, how smart, why didn’t they just note it down?” He snorted. “Well then, boy, how about this.”
He took out an empty slip of paper and handed it to Xerion. “Here. Write down the first layer of [Empyrean Heartfire]. You know it, yes?”
“I…” Xerion said and stopped. Realization dawned upon him like a bucket of cold water. “I can’t.”
“Why?” the old man pressed. “Isn’t it so simple?”
“I get it." He sighed. "Just because I can follow it, doesn’t mean I understand how it works. Disappointing. But what about my first question? They should’ve had the knowledge to break through.”
Lindani sighed, suddenly looking smaller than ever. And tired. Deeply, deeply tired.
“Things are easier in this day and age, in a way. It’s only us and the void out there. Back before the Dawn, it wasn’t so simple.”
Xerion took a step back, in sheer disbelief at the words uttered by the small, hunched, elderly man. “Easy? Easy?!”
Lindani was unbothered by his tone. “Easier, and only in the way that there’s less secrecy now. You’ve read the description of [Empyrean Revivification]. Doesn’t something in it strike you as… odd? Wrong, even?”
Xerion shook his head. He couldn't think. Everything was making him angry and confused and oddly sad. Wasn't uncovering ancient secret supposed to be more fun? He sighed for the umphteen time and looked down, eyes scanning over the paper’s contents.
“No?” he said. “Seems fine to me.”
“Oh? So you think it fine to use the void for your own gain? The very antithesis of what stands at the core of the Empyrean Clan?”
“What— the void is made of Negative Emotional Essence?!”
“Yes. That, and Elemental Darkness.”
That had… implications. So, so many implications. He’d have to leave dwelling on that information for later.
“Even so. Why shouldn’t we use our enemy to make us stronger?”
Lindani massaged his brows, as if wondering how to convey a particularly obvious piece of news to a hard-headed, idiotic child. “Did you fail to read the warning at the bottom of the method?”
“I read it, but this technique’s only an imitation. Wasn’t the original flawless?”
“No,” Lindani said, his face turning grim. “No, it was not. A slight deviation, a tiny overestimation of their abilities, and a Practitioner would end up warped by the Negative Essence. And the cultivators who used that vile thing were to be killed on sight.”
“That’s… yeah. I can see why. But I still don't understand why those who survived the Dawn weren’t privy to the breakthrough information.”
“The Empyrean Clan wasn’t without equals. Our enemies were everywhere back then. And if they found out all our members used a Banned Essence for advancement? They would’ve wiped us out.”
Lindani sighed, eyes distant. “No. It was better to keep the original method secret, by enforcing oaths of silence and by other means, such as: limiting impartations to a single layer of the technique. If any of it leaked? Brand the responsible Practitioner as a heretic and vow to hunt them down. A cultivation deviation? Same outcome.”
“Oh,” Xerion forced out, at a loss for words for once. “That’s… brutal.”
Lindani let out a contemptuous chuckle. “What, did you think our clan was built on love and honor? That everyone back then was pure of heart?” He shook his head. “Foolish. Nothing is ever black and white.”
Xerion stayed silent. He knew, now that he became a proper Practitioner, things previously kept secret would be freely told to him. But it was all just… a lot. So much new information.
But everything made sense. He read enough to know the reality of what the world used to be was grim. Constant killings and plundering for resources. Wars started for a single slight.
Maybe, in the depths of his heart, he hoped… for his clan to be different from the rest. Better. Nicer.
But it wasn’t. And he could do naught but accept it.
Without saying a single word, he entered the room and neared the pair of monotone grey cubes. He could tell the difference between them now. And his choice was obvious.
The contents of [Nineseal Physique] flowed into his mind, the impartation substantially easier than the previous two. Such a large gulf in grades truly did show here.
Xerion had an inflated ego, yes, but he was aware of that flaw. And so he knew he wasn’t some unparalleled genius, surpassing all who came before him. Tens of thousands of years have passed, and yet, the [Empyrean Revivification] was nowhere close to being finished.
Thinking himself capable of achieving what those comparable, if not better than him couldn’t, would’ve been the peak of hubris. His self-delusions of grandeur reached nowhere near such levels.
No. He’d travel the well-trodden, simple path. Until he found something better, that is.
The people in charge of the clan knew what they were doing, offering this method as one of the choices. In essence, they gave each member two possible paths, both beneficial for the collective. One would force a Practitioner to work toward recreating the original technique, while the other would urge them to go out and explore, seeking new impartation cubes. Which would also probably be used to improve upon [Empyrean Revivification].
Choice made and impartation received, he stepped back, only to see Lindani’s widened eyes and the confusion within them. Confusion which gave way to disappointment, then anger.
“You little…!” he said, voice full of emotions. Then it fell flat. The man breathed out. “Fine then. I thought you a half-wit, but not a coward and a luck-relying good-for-nothing. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“What? I just—”
“Stop,” the Keeper snapped at him. “I don’t care to listen to your excuses. You’ve made your choice. Remember my warning. Anything, anything goes missing or gets damaged…”
He didn’t finish, simply flashed him a smile full of malice and stormed off.
Xerion stood rooted to the spot. He never liked that man. Always so full of bitterness, spite, and disapproval.
But that look he gave him? That hurt.
----------------------------------------
Xerion moved to the out-of-the-way table with a thick stack of books and scrolls in hand. A perpetual frown hung onto his face since that geezer’s departure.
Today was his big day, yet all he could think of was that man. Even the ungodly amount of knowledge – previously barred from him, even if he managed to sneak a peek or two over the years – didn’t bring his mood up. Not by much, at least.
He growled lightly, a small shiver running through his entire body. This wasn’t going to work out. Nope! He should be excited right now, and he knew just the thing to get him on the way there.
Xerion turned, his eyes shifting from place to place, as if a thief fearing he’d be caught with some old granny’s loaf of bread. And then he moved, his feet barely making a noise as he stuck close to wall after wall.
A couple of turns took him to an intersection between rows of bookshelves. He gave another, quick check over his surroundings before he squatted down.
Over a decade passed since his first visit to the Archives. So much of his time was spent here, he truly did know every nook and cranny of this place. And this spot, right here, hid the biggest secret he uncovered through his snooping around.
Calloused fingers dug into a tiny gap, barely perceptible, between a wall and a bookshelf. They swept up and down, looking for… and there it was! A groove! Something of seemingly no consequence, yet very noteworthy when found on wood able to survive millennia unscathed.
Xerion pressed with his digit, and not five seconds after, a muffled “click” could be heard. Oh, this was so good! He almost giggled at the thought of finally getting to use that thing.
Then he remembered Lindani. That look, so full of disappointment.
“Fuck…” he said out loud. Then he shook his head. Don’t get distracted!
More silent steps brought him to a nearby bookshelf. Well, not that nearby, a good twenty or so paces from the one with the groove. Whoever thought to make this mechanism must’ve had paranoia in spades.
The moment he arrived there, he started grabbing at the books, those situated on the third shelf from the top. After five of them were removed, his most cherished secret was revealed.
A hole!
But not just any hole! A hidden compartment, ‘tis was. And within sat a small bundle of scrolls, their contents not found anywhere else in the Archives. As far as he knew, that is.
Xerion grabbed it, putting deliberate care into making no sudden movements. Lindani could be watching. Or anyone else, for that matter. And this knowledge was to be his, and his alone.
The title of the scrolls? Various volumes of “On the Creation of a Harashatii.”