“The Disciples preach a path to immortality, of challenging the heavens by gathering the qi of the world, condensing it within you to form a solid core of qi, and then after enduring a tribulation, and the wrath of the heavens, birthing a second soul, a new, immortal soul, to take the first steps of the undying. Yes?”

“I reckon so,” Cor replied. He, Hudson and Xith’le’so sat in an open air room deep within the reef. Tens of thousands of Lurill’shan – as they referred to themselves – lived, worked, and defended what was for all intents and purposes a giant submarine covered with living, bioluminescent coral.

Most of the interior of the reef was submerged, its rooms filled with water but isolated from the pressure of the deeper ocean. There were a few rooms, such as the one they sat in, that were set aside for Lurill’shan with injured gills, plants or animals that originally grew topside, or now, during the war, visitors from the Disciples or other worlds who did not have the organs to breathe underwater.

“I don’t cultivate myself,” Cor continued. “Qi’s a big problem fighting the silicates, and that’s pretty much what I do. Fight.”

“A soldier,” Xith’le’so said appreciatively. “Yet you travel with a cultivator. You were recently in a trial of the Disciples, and you carry one of their storage devices. Yes?”

“Sounds complicated,” Cor shrugged. “But I just go where the fightin’ is.”

He didn’t correct Xith’le’so about the true identity of the jade bracelet on his wrist.

“Can you tell us more about why this…. Qi Cultivation path of the Disciples is incorrect?” Hudson interjected.

“It is not that it is incorrect,” Xith’le’so replied, taking a moment to think through her words. “It is simply one path, and there are multiple. It is incorrect for the Disciples to only promote this path, and to disparage the paths of others.

“A cultivator of the self – we do not use the term body cultivator – will eventually reach the same endpoint as a qi cultivator. The destination is the same, but the road traveled is not.”

Before Hudson could ask a follow-up question, Cor interjected.

“If it’s all the same then… why bother?” He used his finger nail to worry at a piece of algae stuck between his teeth.

After their quick tour, they had eaten a bland meal of seaweed soup with strips of a tough, fibrous substance that tasted like shoe leather. Ix had assured them that their biologies were similar enough, based on their knowledge from hosting trials for both species, and that the food wasn’t poisonous.

“Your question is fair,” Xith’le’so said slowly and paused for a moment before continuing. “I care in part because of your companion. He is a cultivator of the self, his path is being diverted, and it pains me to see that.”

“That still don’t seem like a big deal to me,” Cor said, still working on whatever was stuck between his teeth.

Xith’le’so took a deep breath and replied. “It is also personal. He reminds me of my daughter – Tchae’rii. I will explain.”

A few things about Tchae’rii and Xith’le’so’s interactions clicked for Hudson. They had seemed rather awkward towards each other, which he had written off as an alien cultural thing. Reading between the lines Tchae’rii had not told her mother everything about their encounter, but Xith’le’so hadn’t really called her out on it either.

Xith’le’so paused for a moment to collect her thoughts, then continued.

“At the lower levels of cultivation, our native cultivation path is more effective and less at risk when fighting against the silicates. And yet the Disciples push back against it, demanding that our people change their paths. That the pain of cultivating the self is unnecessary, that all should choose the easiest path. As if they know better.

“Half of our people are already dead. Over three-quarters of the male population. Billions of lifeforms. Many, many were lost when first our moon was overrun, and then more wasted when defending the sacred spaces on land.

“Only when we were driven into the deep oceans of our planet did the Disciples finally arrive to help. And their ‘help’ has come with a cost. A cost in resources, in cultivators, and in the cultivation path we guide our people onto.

“So when I see Hudson, I don’t see a foreign cultivator from another world. I see a cultivator whose path is being dictated to him, just like it was to my daughter, and I don’t like that.”

Xith’le’so’s words were passionate, and resonated with Hudson. He had struggled with being pulled into the path of a cultivation, in many ways against his will.

“So…” Cor drew the word out slowly. “I think I got you figured out. If you can set young Hudson here on the straight and narrow, then you hit two birds with one stone, yeah? Hudson will get stronger and kill more silicates, hoo-rah. And the Disciples get a good ole poke in the eye ‘cuz one of their trial babies converted to your religion.”

Xith’le’so blinked a few times and her gills rippled up and down. “It is not a religion, but I suppose your words have some truth. But we say, ‘two fish, one hook.’”

Cor finally fished the piece of fiber out of between his teeth and wiped his finger on his pants.

“Then why don’t ya make it three fish, one hook then?” Cor said. “You’re not collecting qi in your body, right, making you a bigger target for the silicates?”

“Not like a qi cultivator, and not until you gain much more strength,” Xith’le’so confirmed.

“And no religious mumbo-jumbo, or going to confession, none of that? The second wife made me try that, but had to stop.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Xith’le’so shook her head in a slightly confused “no” pattern.

“Well then, sign me up, partner!” Cor said, slapping his hands on his legs. “Time’s a wastin’.”

Hudson was surprised at Cor’s quick decision, but realized he shouldn’t be. It tracked with everything he’d ever said about cultivation and fighting the silicates.

“Well said,” Xith’le’so smiled broadly and clapped her hands on her thighs as well. “Once the elder gives me permission, of course.

“You would do well to follow your companion for the time being – he has a decent start on his path, and there is no guarantee that the specific techniques developed for our physiology will work with yours. We do have two sets of lungs, and breathe on both land and in water.”

“That is indeed a neat trick,” Cor replied. “And I get the need to respect your chain of command. Let’s get started when your folks give you the nod.”

“Can I ask a question?” Hudson said. He’d mostly stayed quiet as Cor had asked his questions, but there were a few things he really wanted to know.

“If you can’t answer, that’s fine, but you’ve mentioned several times that my ‘path is being diverted.’ I know that my breathing technique is not a standard one, and likely designed for body cultivation, but what makes you say the Disciples are pushing me away from it?”

Hudson thought back to his conversations with Ix. “Does it have to do with cultivating ‘jing,’ or ‘shen,’ instead of qi?”

Xith’le’so cupped her hands around her gills, and gazed away for a few moments, lost in thought.

“We are close to the line, and I won’t comment on jing, qi, or shen, but I will say this,” Xith’le’so said. “I am not teaching you, only stating well-known facts and correcting your ignorance.

“It is well-known that the Disciples will plant the seeds of different paths in the minds of their young.”

“Are you talking about sigils?” Hudson clarified.

“Yes,” Xith’le’so said. “A deep knowledge of the Way, recorded in the language of Heaven and Earth. These seeds –” she paused, reconsidered, and tried a different track.

“We do not follow this practice…I do not follow this practice. Because it is also well-known that borrowed power is not truly one’s own power,” she said, clearly struggling against saying something she felt that she couldn’t, or shouldn’t.

“We have a saying,” she said, her face lighting up with inspiration. “‘A hook doesn’t catch fish.’”

Cor chuckled. “Ain’t that the truth.”

“So the…fisherman catches the fish?” Hudson clarified, trying to follow along.

“Precisely,” Xith’le’so clarified. “While external sources of power can be important, it is not those tools or aids that should define a cultivator’s path.”

“The way I see it,” Cor interjected, “It ain’t the size of the gun, it’s how you use it.”

Cor and Xith’le’so had a weird vibe going on, and Hudson was starting to feel a little bit out of the loop.

But before they could continue the conversation, a deep, low gong rolled through the room. The frequencies were so low that Hudson could feel them through the floor.

“What’s that?” Cor asked, standing up and readying his weapon, but keeping the safety on and finger off of the trigger. Xith’le’so and Hudson also stood.

“A warning bell, that we will soon be joining battle with the abomintations,” Xith’le’so said. “Do not fear, we are well protected here.”

“Only thing I’m scared of is missing the fight,” Cor said.

“Well said,” Xith’le’so nodded, her gills rippling in agreement. “As guests, I should keep you here to ensure your safety. But you have fought the abominations before, and it might be instructional for you to see how we fight on the reef… And we are not too deep beneath the surface…”

Xith’le’so paused for a moment, then made her decision.

“We will be in an environment that you may be unfamiliar with. Will you give me your word that you will follow my direction, without hesitation?”

“Yes,” Hudson said.

“Your boat, your show,” Cor replied with a grin.

“Follow me then,” Xith’le’so said and proceeded to lead them out of the room and through a water lock, where the pair from Earth donned their water-breathing helmets.

Hudson and Cor struggled to keep up with Xith’le’so, who waited patiently for them to swim as fast as they could through the corridors. Others passed them, soldiers with spearguns and knives headed in the same direction, and civilians returning deeper into the reef to more secure locations.

While everyone moved quickly, they did so with practiced and smooth movements. None of the reef’s inhabitants appeared worried or panicking. These attacks were simply a part of their everyday life.

Finally, they swam upwards through another pressure lock, cycling through and to the upper side of the reef.

They stood on a small platform, ringed by bone spears jutting out into the water above the reef. On the corners of the platform, pairs of soldiers manned large gun placements, with six-foot long barrels and hydraulic tubes leading off the back of the barrels and connecting to the platform.

Xith’le’so jogged over to the officer in charge of this station and had a few quick words. They both nodded, their gills rippling in a pattern that Hudson was learning meant agreement, and Xith’le’so returned to Hudson and Cor.

“We stay in the center of the platform. If any abominations make it past the gun placements, we will assist in repelling them. Do not interfere with the gunners, and bind yourself to the platform with these tethers.”

“10-4,” Cor said, and Hudson nodded, taking the tightly coiled ropes and tying them to the belts at their waists. Hudson secured a silverine claw into his right palm, and left his sledgehammer secured to his back. The queen’s claw – a.k.a. Big Momma – was back in their room.

From where he stood in the center of the gun platform, he had an excellent view of the top of the reef and the water above them. It would be a good place to see the battle.

“Are you sure the silicates are attacking?” Hudson asked Xith’le’so. After a few minutes of waiting, nothing had happened.

“Yes,” she replied simply.

“War is all about that ‘hurry-up and wait,’” Cor told Hudson. “So enjoy the calm while it lasts. I reckon it won’t be too much longer, though; I can smell it coming. Like the way my knee aches before a storm. I feel it in my gut.”

“Well said,” Xith’le’so said appreciatively.

And Cor was right; they didn’t have to wait much longer.