62nd of Season of Earth, 56th year of the 32nd cycle

Newt could not believe what he was doing, sitting in a secret room, spying at Blackfist’s back through a peephole.

“Do not get emotional about things I am about to say. I will put on an act and not mean them. Besides, my standard for women is much higher than you would believe.” Blackfist’s words did more than make Newt feel uneasy. He was afraid of what he would witness.

He could hear his heart and feel the veins in his neck throbbing when someone knocked softly on the sect master’s door.

“Sect Master,” Jasmine said, and Newt smiled despite himself.

“Come in, my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.” Newt winced at the title and stared at Jasmine as she walked in.

She wore the form-fitting training robe of her sect, black with white hems, her sash thin, and her chest much more developed than Newt remembered. The young man’s heart started beating faster still, hormones and new feelings added into the emotional swirl.

“I see Hardsteel has a fine taste, and your parents a good sense when it comes to naming. Please sit, have some tea.”

Jasmin blushed, and Newt wondered just how much tea could Blackfist fit inside him without visiting the restroom. The girl moved with grace as she took her seat, sitting on her knees like a proper lady, rather than crossing her legs.

Blackfist gave her a cup, and they sat in silence, enjoying the brew. Blackfist said nothing as minutes dragged on, and Newt felt uncomfortable, doubly so when he noticed Jasmine’s face turning redder and redder.

“Is something bothering you, daughter-in-law?” Blackfist’s voice was relaxed and natural, but Jasmine jerked, sitting straighter.

“Your gaze is very intense, father-in-law.” The girl smiled in a way which made Newt gulp.

“I was just admiring your beauty and youth. I can feel life throbbing within you as you are blooming into a beautiful woman. Seeing such fine feminine charm, I cannot help but think Hardsteel is unworthy of you.”

Jasmine beamed a smile. Newt’s mouth went dry as he watched her. It was not an expression of flattered joy, but of hunger, of someone recognizing an opportunity. Blackfist must have seen it too, or he knew that hunger was there all along, for he continued without skipping a beat.

“I was thinking of ordering Hardsteel into secluded cultivation to prepare for the tournament. You could use the chance while he is away to receive some private pointers from me. I excel at double cultivation, it is both a pleasure and a rewarding experience.”

Newt nearly fainted. He wanted to see Blackfist’s expression, to smack his smug face with a fist, to hell with the consequences. Then rage replaced his shock. Jasmine smiled coyly, leaning forward. She laid her hand on the back of Blackfist’s and let her fingers roam around it.

“It would be a pleasure to serve you, Sect Master.”

Newt could not believe what he was seeing. His chaste Jasmine, the proper girl he knew for years, grew up with, was willing to prostitute herself just like that. All it took were a handful of words.

No, this can’t be real. He shook his head, trying to shake away reality. That is not Jasmine. He drugged the tea.

Newt made excuse after excuse, but deep down, he knew it was all lies. Blackfist had spoken the truth from the start. Jasmine was not the person he believed her to be.

Newt no longer paid attention to the flirtatious conversation, feeling himself more a voyeur than a spy. He was almost surprised when Blackfist opened the door of his cramped refuge.

“So?” Blackfist said as Newt listlessly left the cramped chamber. “Are you going to say something about me controlling her mind, forcing her, drugging her? Maybe she was not your Jasmine, but a body double, an illusion?”

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Blackfist sounded almost jovial, but Newt looked into his eyes and shook his head like a broken man.

“Cheer up.” Blackfist clapped the youth on the shoulder, staggering him. “At least you found out early, before committing to the cause and making lasting mistakes. I would offer to parade my girls for you to see, but you are not in the mood, and they are no good for you. Prettier and less scummy than this one, but you can do better.”

“Am I dreaming?” Newt asked with a hollow gaze. “Is this a nightmare?”

Blackfist pinched him, and Newt cried out.

“You seem awake to me,” Blackfist said with a smirk. “Do not doubt your senses or instincts. Do not blindly follow them either, since the scene happening before you might not be the whole truth—”

“Why?” Newt asked.

“Well, she does not really care about men, she believes she can use her body as—”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Newt clarified, not wanting to listen about his best friend.

“I told you, I want to make friends with you. You are a talented individual that will go far, Newstar. And amiability is king. After careful consideration, I have decided to make it my path some two weeks ago.”

“Path?” Newt looked at the sect master’s face, still as pale and lifeless as a ghost.

“Yes, path.” Blackfist grinned, spreading his arms in a grand gesture. “The direction you wish to advance as a cultivator and a person. Violence and aggression can only take you so far, and committing myself to someone else’s laws does not sit well with my personality. I have dabbled a bit in alchemy and forging, but I do not see crafting as my path. That said, I would like to improve my expertise when I get the chance, but that is for the future.”

“Could you speak slower?” Newt tried and failed to follow the sect master’s train of thought.

“Certainly. I have gone ahead of myself. What is confusing you right now, save for your anger and disappointment?”

Everything. Newt could not wrap his head around the situation. Why was Blackfist acting the way he was for a complete stranger? Why was Jasmine like that? Was that her true nature even when they were betrothed, or had she changed in the past three years? Was it his fault? His uncle’s?

Ironically, the sect master had already answered those questions, but Newt failed to process them.

“What do you want me to do now?” the confused youth asked after a lengthy silent spell.

“Have some tea. Go and sleep or meditate on what you have learned, think about what you want to do with your life. Come back when you set your mind straight. We can talk then.”

“What about the tournament?” Newt asked what was probably the most absurd and least important question at that moment.

“What about the tournament?” Blackfist threw his words back at him, and Newt nodded.

Really, who gave a damn about some silly tournament? He had more important matters to attend to.

“Do you want me to join your sect?”

“No. It is a dump, and I am leaving it after the tournament.” Blackfist flashed Newt a smile. “Got to see things through to the end.”

Newt blinked. He was fairly certain about what he had heard, and then he recalled what Blackfist told him just a few short moments ago about doubting his senses.

“Why? Where?”

“Those short questions have a rather lengthy answer. Do you think my answer will help you process your own thoughts better?”

The sect master still looked at Newt with a friendly smile and with a whole lot more patience than Newt believed he himself had.

Instead of answering, the youth nodded, and Blackfist started talking.

“First, why; because this place is a dump. It is a chain binding me to this backwater, where even the imperial library merely has documents fit for cultivators of fourth realm and below. But even those documents are enough for me to understand that my cultivation has deviated, and that my mistakes will cost me a bright future.”

Blackfist’s constant smile changed, going from friendly to self-deprecating.

“I am old, but I would not mind living a long life full of adventure before eventually reincarnating. Someone dear to me once said I should enjoy myself more without binding myself with things I do not find worthwhile. Even with all the time in the world, you should pursue your interests, and not those of others.”

Sorrow and loss found their way into those cheerful eyes, and Newt felt crushed by the weight of emotion. The gloom disappeared, and the giant sitting across from Newt smiled again. Blackfist was tall, but not too tall, he was muscular, but again, Newt had seen muscular men before, and yet, he somehow made Newt feel small and insignificant.

“Are you a dragon?” the youth asked, immediately embarrassed by the slip of his tongue.

Blackfist guffawed.

“I killed one once,” he joked while shaking his head, “but no, I am human, and despite what the rumors about me say, I do not share the scaly kind’s love for shiny metal and virgins.”

Newt was about to smile when Blackfist continued, “experienced women make much better company.”

Newt choked on spit while Blackfist winked and kept smiling.

“As for where, the world is a big place. What I am interested in the most right now is the imperial libraries and the guilds. I still cannot believe such a treasure trove of knowledge is available to everyone, and yet so few use the privilege.”