"The Dao is all-encompassing, existence itself. Immortality is but a small reward, understanding of your path is the true fruit. Perfect Attainment, a myth? Who knows, upper-realm seniors keep such secrets closely guarded but as cultivators strive for perfection regardless, you will unearth pieces of the puzzle along the way.” The elder's voice echoed through the pavilion.
Jiang Tao sat cross-legged on the stone floor of the pavilion, he had impulsively spent half his points on the lecture after spotting Zhang Yue enter the Elder’s pavilion. He had reasoned that as Zhang Yue was in core formation, whatever lessons he was taking might have insights worth the price.
The fact that Yue had achieved core formation had shocked him if he was honest, they had started with the same cultivation base, unlocking the first meridian on the same day but the second prince had outstripped him completely.
Tao wasn't too familiar with the guy save for what he had learned from Yuhan, but he had used, him, Li Hua, Yu Yanling, and the others he had shared that moment with as benchmarks. That one of them was an entire realm ahead was a little shocking.
At the same time, it lit a fire in him; he wasn't going to be left behind, that way lie slaughter. They could not afford to slow down and have others lead ahead who knew when they would start to set their sights on each other?
For Yuhan's claim to succeed, they all had to be beyond exceptional. There was no time to mop about past mistakes. So he would devour all the knowledge he could and not be content with coasting by on his talent.
All the imperial disciples were bundles of potential, he wasn't stupid enough to think they would always stay within the same range. Talent was but one part of the equation, resource was another one he didn't have access to at least compared to his peers so all that was left was perseverance and hard work.
The Elder, Elder Rong was a youthful kindly-looking man with shocking white hair, not grey but white. His words were exactly what Tao needed. The pavilion was surprisingly sparse; the audience consisted only of Zhang Yue, Chu Kaicheng, Zeng Weilong, Song Zhan, and three other outer disciples from the Twilight Flame Sect—each likely talented, given the hefty cost of 250 contribution points.
“You must understand the essence of your path to walk it. Take the Dao of the sword, followers of this Dao must understand sharpness, and what it means to cut. With this understanding, one can make a sword out of anything they desire for they have gleaned the truths fundamental to the sword. A law of the world,”
Jiang Tao listened intently, absorbing the Elder’s words as if they were the lifeblood he craved.
Natural laws? Like science, and stuff? He thought understanding blooming within him. He could leverage the meager knowledge he knew to supplement his path.
The opaque texts in the Stormsong manuscript suddenly made more sense, he had thought they spoke of more esoteric things but the Elder's teachings reframed them into something tangible, something he could grasp.
"Each Dao has its principles," Elder Rong continued, his voice steady yet filled with warmth. "The Dao of fire, for instance, teaches you about transformation and destruction. To understand it, you must comprehend the cycle of burning and rebirth. Each path you choose offers a glimpse into the myriad laws."
The Elder shifted his tone, becoming more contemplative. “However, be wary of complacency. It is easy to fall into the trap of believing you have understood enough. True understanding is an endless journey, and the moment you think you have reached the pinnacle is when you become stagnant. The Dao does not wait for anyone.”
Jiang Tao sat up straighter as if trying to physically absorb the Elder's words. Stagnation is death, he thought, his mind racing through the implications. Tao would have to push himself, not just to survive, but to thrive.
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Tao’s eyes flickered to Zhang Yue, sitting a few rows ahead, his face a calm mask of concentration. The second prince seemed at ease, his aura steady yet commanding, as if the very air around him bent to his will. Tao clenched his fists. How had he advanced so quickly? What was I missing?
Elder Rong’s voice broke through his thoughts. "The particular path itself does not matter. There was once a sword cultivator, celebrated and feared across the lands for his peerless techniques. He could cut mountains and cleave oceans. But one day, he faced an opponent who followed the path of bliss. This opponent, though seemingly a weak hedonist, with a path that many would call unsuited for battle, had profundity. The sword cultivator fell. There is no weaker or stronger path; understanding and mastery define the cultivator. Each Dao holds the power to raze worlds.”
As the lecture progressed, Elder Rong delved into more intricate aspects of the Dao, illustrating his points with tales of ancient cultivators who faced trials that tested not just their skills but their resolve and understanding of the world.
Jiang Tao hung on every word, his determination solidifying into a burning desire to not only survive but strive for perfect attainment. He wasn't sure what it entailed but he would achieve it, everything else felt secondary as the new goal solidified in his mind.
The Elder concluded, “In the end, your path is your own. Do not fear the detours or the unexpected turns. Embrace them. They may lead you to revelations that the straight road cannot.”
He stood up as the lecture ended, his resolve stronger than ever. The pavilion felt charged with potential as the other disciples murmured among themselves, their minds racing with new ideas and revelations.
He needed to discuss this with Yuhan and Yixing to share insights and forge a plan that encompassed their individual strengths and their collective power.
Jiang Tao’s eyes met Zhang Yue’s as they exited the pavilion. There was a spark of recognition that quickly morphed dismissive sneer.
Tao rolled his eyes as he suppressed the flicker of annoyance he felt, the day would come when he would show them he wasn't the easy target they thought he was.
Yue scoffed before looking away, this drew the attention of his friends, their eyes locking in on Tao’s form.
“Ah, I knew I smelled something distasteful... It was the stench of a dog,” Zeng Weilong's voice rang out with a mocking lilt, cutting through the murmurs of the pavilion. His companions chuckled, their laughter like the sharp clink of swords.
Jiang Tao felt a flush of anger rise within him, but he steeled himself. Their taunts were just that—noise.
“It's the peasant prince’s dog, what's his name again? Liang Bao?” Song Zhan asked.
He took a deep breath, channeling the Elder’s teachings to ground himself. He refused to let their mockery derail his newfound focus.
“Stop this. We shouldn't dirty our hands with the pitiful. My royal cousin is dignified and would prefer we stay above such triviality,” Chu Kaicheng interjected, his tone cool. His friends fell silent, momentarily disarmed by his words.
Zhang Yue, beside him, gave a slight nod, “Let the peasant enjoy his time as a disciple before he is inevitably cut down.” Kaicheng said with a stupid condescending smile.
At that moment Jiang Tao understood loathing, the insults he could take even the passive aggressiveness but the faux pity and patronizing smile stung more than anything.
Chu Kaicheng. I will see to it, that I snuff out your existence myself. He swore. We’ll see who gets cut down.
He wasn’t here to appease them or validate their arrogance. With a steely resolve, he turned on his heel and walked away, ignoring the snickers and sneers behind him.
As he stepped outside the pavilion, the sunlight washed over him, momentarily dispelling the bitterness of the encounter. The world around him was alive with potential — The storm had barely started brewing, they would learn to avoid it.
His thoughts shifted to Yuhan and Yixing. They were a team, and together they could amplify each other's strengths. He would seek them out, share what he learned, and devise a strategy that could propel them beyond the reach of their detractors.
Stagnation was death; he would embrace growth, learning, and resilience. The adversities he faced were mere stepping stones to greater heights. Dwelling on such things would lead to heart demons.
Reaching a quiet corner of the sect grounds, he sat down, pulling out the Stormsong manuscript. The passages now shimmered with newfound clarity.
“Let's get down to it,” he muttered as he stared at the faded pages.