Jun didn’t mind his leisurely pace so much, as he rode past expansive rice fields, humble domiciles, and sun tanned farmers in their conical hats—already hard at work, having risen with the light of dawn.
He found the scenery gorgeous within this trial world—sweeping fields, expansive forests, and spearing mountain ranges all—and he’d caught it at the best possible time. Having arrived at around the tail end of spring, it was now nearing autumn, which helped add a splash of variety to the otherwise verdant, dew speckled green.
As well as a coolness to the air that was just shy of being uncomfortable.
Besides, when was the last time he’d been forced to simply be with his thoughts for hours at a time? Rather than find it boring, on the contrary, he found it incredibly relaxing, not having to constantly make sure he was keeping ahead of an ever evolving list of threats and responsibilities.
Negotiations in Vermilion Flame City had gone even better than he’d hoped, and now, as he sat astride his trusty steed—a light brown donkey he’d dubbed Challenger, naturally, for her docile temperament and gentle disposition—and headed back in the direction of twin leaf sect territory, he thought back on all he’d accomplished these last four weeks.
It’d been hectic, undeniably so, and it had all begun with his list of unanswered questions.
Question #1: What happens if I outright ignore the trial completely, and instead do everything in my power to derail things as much as humanly possible?
Nothing. Not as far as he could tell.
He didn’t complete the trial by any means, but nor did he fail it outright. He’d been outside the purview of the actual trial portion of this trial world for weeks now, and had never noticed a pull, nor a sense of urgency, that insisted he actually finish the trial with any amount of expediency.
As far as he knew, you could spend an entire lifetime within a trial world without actually completing it. Indeed he might have stayed longer if he didn’t have other things to see to.
Question #2: What happens if I do everything the trial asks of me?
Inconclusive. As he hadn’t wanted to end it prematurely. Though he thought the results of such an attempt should be rather self explanatory.
Question #3: What happens if I cozy up to the clear antagonist?
Inconclusive. He didn’t even know if there was a clear antagonist or not, as he’d burned that bridge before he’d even got to it. Thankfully, that had been quite a few restarts ago, so he’d genuinely be surprised if anyone there actually recognized him. He was hoping to find out soon, regardless.
Question #4: What happens if I kill the clear antagonist?
Again, he was looking forward to finding out.
Question #5: What happens if I use Leaping Slash outside of the Silent Sword Martial Blade School?
Now this had been a bit of a gamble.
Though it’d been one he’d made fairly early on, before venturing out on any of his more recent projects. Short answer? Yes. It was entirely possible to use his Leaping Slash mantra outside of blade school premises without triggering the trial’s main objective, and so ruin all of his hard work.
Why this was exactly, he had no idea. But, on a positive note, he’d even been able to improve upon it, if marginally. Not through iterative tampering postmortem, as he’d been too afraid that might alter things in ways he couldn’t predict, but simply by applying what he did have access to in differing ways.
In effect, his Leaping Slash mantra sent out a crescent of near invisible manifest cutting force, at the cost of some mental energy expenditure.
A negligible amount when compared to his aptly named piercing gaze mantra. It was a decent, if boring, application of the concept. Although, much like in its conception, he’d found that, after a fair bit of trial and error, intent played as much of a role in the application of a mantra, as in its creation. Something he’d used to great effect against the underworld mob bosses of Vermilion Flame City.
Essentially, by shattering his opponents weapon into shards, something that wasn’t terribly difficult to do with his titles, he was essentially launching a series of jagged projectiles at them. Metal shards which, through an application of intent, he was able to establish as having derived from his actions.
A seemingly negligible distinction which, nevertheless, gave him a kind of… dominion over them?
A possessiveness over each and every flying shard. And seeing as they were all now technically his attacks—an extension of his will, you could say—they were, from there on out, susceptible to the application of his Leaping Slash. Effectively launching hundreds of invisible crescents at his unsuspecting opponents from point blank range.
The results of which had been far more devastating than he’d initially intended, but it seemed to get the message across well enough so it wasn’t as if he would complain. In the end, he just went with it. Better they be too busy fearing him to think of disobeying him, anyway.
Question #6: What happens if I use Leaping Slash while inside of the Silent Sword Martial Blade School?
Again, pretty self explanatory. More likely than not, the trial would end.
Question #7: Just how far does the trial world extend?
Inconclusive. Though he suspected far would be an apt description. The more he lived in this world, the more he spoke to its people and observed its customs, the less and less confident he became that the entirety of this planet had been spun into being just to serve him.
Very humble of me, I know.
It just didn’t make any sense, otherwise. There was just so much cultural detail here, that the thought of it all being generated on a whim, was honestly more terrifying than the idea that he was less important than he’d thought.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Question #8: Can I use other mantras whilst inside the trial world?
No. And that didn’t appear to be negotiable. He didn’t know why, but, as far as he could tell, it was outright impossible to use any other mantra than the one he brought with him. It was actually pretty damn eerie.
Like trying to scream in a vacuum.
He reached out for a sensation he hadn’t even known to miss until it was gone, only to be met with nothing but empty air. He tried his best not to think about it.
Question #9: Do my previous efforts at cultivation still apply whilst within the trial world?
Yes, but his progress remained stagnant. Neither improving nor declining in potency. He thought he could learn new techniques while inside the trial, but his baseline spirit pool remained exactly where it had been. Expending and refilling as usual.
Question #10: What happens if I kill someone then restart the trial? More specifically, will they still be alive after I’ve restarted? For that matter, will they still be in the same place, at the time that I first killed them?
Short answer? Yes. Long answer? It depends.
He hadn’t even really needed to kill any one to figure this out, though he’d only really realized that in retrospect. And for the record, yes, every time he reset, he essentially rewound time. So that everyone that had been alive was, big shocker, brought back to life. He would assume that also worked in reverse, but he couldn’t verify it.
Should he ever stumble upon the ability to raise the dead, he would be sure to test out that theory.
Basically, depending on how influential a person was, the level of divergence in their behavior, from restart to restart, seriously varied. For instance, on a particular day, at a particular time, a dye seller and their prospective buyer will have the same exact conversation ninety nine times out of a hundred.
Meanwhile the lives and patterns of a more influential figure, say the patriarch of a sect or lord of a city, often fluctuated wildly. Schedules changed, myriad particulars shifted, and their motives were never certain or easy to pinpoint.
It effectively made the major players completely unpredictable, no matter how many times he restarted. Indeed it was so noticeable that he couldn’t help but feel like it was intentional. The reasons for said hunch resting entirely upon the results of his final question, whatever they may be.
Question #11: Is it possible to obtain titles, and or acclaim bonuses, by manipulating events outside of the Silent Sword Martial Blade School?
This was what he was banking much of the efforts of the past few weeks on. Whether it was possible to establish an organization while outside the traditional trial taking premises. Whether it was possible to have such an organization recognized by the system.
Through attempting this, he’d been forced to contend with all manner of those unpredictable and powerful individuals, and he hoped that, by tangling with them and succeeding, he earned himself some choice titles for all his troubles. After all, the only reason he could think of for making their movements so unpredictable and erratic, would be to make dealing with them a matter of skill and competence, not just rote memorization.
Two qualities the system back home valued greatly, and one’s he was hoping this new system valued the same.
As he jounced along with each of Challenger’s clip clopping steps, he silently went over all that he’d done, and all that had yet to come. On this, his ninety sixth restart since first attempting this trial, many weeks had passed him by, and in all that time very little of his attention had been given to the actual minutiae of the trial itself.
He’d made an art of avoiding the blade school and its goings on, not even sparing the expansive courtyard a second glance—too many theories to test, too many avenues to explore. In this, his current attempt, nearly a month had passed since he’d been presented with those mist shrouded steps, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, this months entrance exams were set to commence any day now.
Not that he’d actually be participating, of course.
His budding organization was already bearing fruit, it would seem. Convenient. As, not minutes before he’d been set to depart, a little birdie told him some very unsettling news indeed.
Pleasure girls worked over? Missing persons covered up? Rumors of a stark change in previously scrupulous behavior?
It would seem not all was right within the storied halls of the martial blade school. And, so long as he was going to be in the neighborhood anyway…? Well, he might as well do his due diligence. After all, where was the harm?
Really, it was the least he could do.
image [https://i.ibb.co/rw6tMBB/IMG-2711.png]
The venerable Zhao Long was compelled to leave his quarters at around noon.
He might have stayed longer, but alas, the pleasure girls he’d serviced throughout most of the night had actually left him feeling rather weak about the knees. Not that he would ever admit as much aloud, of course.
Even still, he’d quickly come to the conclusion that he’d need some hearty refreshments indeed, if he were to ever have the strength to go on.
And so, he’d bravely ventured forth, striking out into the light of day. Away from the sweet comforts of his glorious silken sheets and luxurious goose down bedding. Sallying forth in search of a delicious meal that would properly sate his simply ravenous appetite.
One of them at any rate. Well, one of many.
He would also require more wine if he were to ever have even the hope of falling back to sleep. …eventually, that was. When he found the time, that is. He had other plans which obviously took greater precedence.
He let his feet carry him in the direction of the sword school’s kitchens. It was a route he likely could have followed in his sleep by now. A series of twists and turns he could’ve recited by rote. Which was just as well, seeing as his mind was currently occupied with the sweet reminiscence of hours past, and the many gentle promises still yet to be fulfilled.
The god awful sounds of raised voices, and the violent clacking of pretend swords, nearly threatened to shatter the fading echos of blissful tranquility he’d cultivated—the nirvana he’d been immersed in only moments before.
Always the first to strive toward being the better man in any social situation, no matter who he had to tread upon to do so, he studiously did not let it bother him in the least. They could make all the pointless racket they wanted.
He was on a mission.
And he would see it through to the end no matter the cost. As he passed by a gaggle of fawning female disciples, fit and slim in their deliciously form fitting robes, he tossed them a roguish smile, and a wink for good measure, before carrying on about his business—not wanting to distract himself from his ultimate goal. Even still…
Ancients bless the man who thought to invite women to this school.
It had been four years since he’d possessed the body of the Twin Leaf Patriarch’s youngest son, and everything was going according to plan.
Well… more or less, at any rate.
Case and point, he was now the eldest son and singular inheritor to his adoptive father’s grand dynasty.
And indeed, if it weren’t for the mistakes of another casting undue suspicion on his broad shoulders, he would currently be living it up at the heart of his fathers domain—being plied with all the women and drink a man could ask for. Instead he’d been relegated to this backwater province in the hopes it would teach him “the true makings of an honorable man,” whatever that was supposed to mean.
Given the fact that he’d been a demonic cultivator in his past life, he honestly looked forward to seeing his father’s snobbish attendants try. Whenever they deigned to show up, that is.
He… wouldn’t be holding his breath.