Sikta set the tea down and began the brewing process. Put the leaves in, add hot water, and done! He then proceeded to pour this tea into two cups, one for each of his new employers.

“It’s horrible.”

“Hmm. I’ve had worse.”

The negative nelly was the woman who had slapped him into unconsciousness, Gren Choho.

The not-so-negative nelly was the woman's son, the 16-year-old silver-haired boy who had saved Sikta from the snake. Their name was Gren Okaha.

Sikta had come under the employment of these two after ‘endangering her son's life.’ Some would call it indentured servitude, but it wasn't all that bad. He got three square meals a day, a roof over his head, a bed, and… Yeah, that was about it. But considering he was now in another world and had lost everything he had ever known, he would say it was a pretty good deal.

Yes, another world. Or should he say another universe? Perhaps, an entirely different plane of reality is more accurate. Because in this world, there was Qi. Mystical energy that suffused the world and everything in it, giving people, animals, and even plants powers beyond the norm. There were also spirits in this world, small phantasmal beings of varying shapes and colours.

The process of absorbing this Qi and elevating one's power is called cultivation.

He was currently in the employ of two members of the Gren clan, a middling cultivation family. Fringe clan members, according to the other staff in this huge house.

Yes, his coworkers were the worst gossipers he had met. They were his main information source.

Sikta was also forced to wear a robe like everyone else in this place. He would rate the robe 1/10 stars. It was baggy, and the sleeved were long, which meant they caught on everything! He couldn't count the number of times he had dipped his sleeve in his own food!

“You may leave us, Sikta.”

“Yuppers.”

Choho sighed and waved him off.

Sikta picked up the tea tray, still containing two full cups, and made his way back to the kitchen. The walk through the hallways of the residence was quiet.

When he had almost made it to the kitchen, his foot hit a wooden crate. He fell forwards, the tray coming down with him. That's when his saviour appeared, the cook. She reached for him. No. she reached for the tray!

Sikta fell to the ground in a heap, trayless.

“Ow. You know you could have also caught me?”

He had a sarcastic look on his face as he stared up at the cook.

“And risk dirtying my apron? No.”

Sikta sat up with a huff.

…

All the workers of the residence were gathered in a line, all five of them. This, of course, included Sikta. In front of the five was Gren Choho, tapping her fingers against her arm.

“As some of you may be aware, my son will be leaving for the Blue-Sands Sect soon, and he will need an attendant to accompany him. So I will choose one of you. We will begin the selection process by having a look at your spirit prints.”

This caught the other's attention, as they started shuffling in place, obviously nervous. Sikta himself was not nervous. You see, he didn't like pain. And as far as he could tell, a cultivator's life was full of the stuff that made him weep. All he saw the two Grens do all day was workout, fight stuff, and cultivate. Thats it! They barely even ate anything.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Plus, Sikta was from another world. So it was a mystery if he could even cultivate at all. He was also sure he didn't have whatever this spirit print thing was. So he would say that he was in a pretty good spot to fail.

Choho began at the other end of the line. Sikta looked on curiously as she pressed her hand against the back of the person's neck. Suddenly, a slightly glowing green print appeared on the back of the person's neck underneath Chohos hand. It looked like an oval, containing a few overlapping circles.

Choho blew out a disappointed breath and moved on.

This process continued until finally, it was Sikta's turn.

He felt Choho press her hand to the back of his neck. Then there was a slight tingling feeling, and he heard Choho draw in a sharp breath. At first, he thought that she was shocked he didn't have a spirit print, but his mind soon changed.

“You already have a spirit?”

What?

“Uhh. No?”

“Well, your spirit print indicates that you have one.”

Well, that was odd. When did he get a spirit? A better question was, how did a person even get a spirit in the first place? Do they shake hands and make a deal or something?

“No matter. You are a good enough candidate. You will accompany my son to the Blue-Sands Sect and be his attendant.”

Sikta frowned.

“Uhmmm. What if I don't really want to?”

“It comes with an increase in pay.”

Now that caught his attention. A bump in salary, but by how much is the question?

“How much of an increase?”

Choho put a finger to her chin.

“Hmm. How about one gold coin a month, with a bump in pay as you progress your cultivation?”

A gold… He had no idea how much that was worth. Honestly, he had only been in this world for two weeks, and he barely ever left the house. So he had no idea what a gold coin could buy. Could a gold coin buy an elephant? Or just barely pay for a loaf of bread? At least now he knew that the money situation was metal instead of the paper he was used to.

Plus a bump in pay as he cultivated. But was cultivation hard? Was it painful?

“Just one question. Is cultivation painful?”

“There are three personal cultivation practices. Spiritual, martial, and domain. Only martial cultivation is painful all the time.”

Well, that settled it!

“Deal!”

Sikta held out his hand for a shake, but Choho just stared at it.

“Do you guys not shake hands here?”

“No.”

“Oh!.. Well, bye then.”

He turned to leave.

“We bow.”

Sikta turned back around.

He got down on one knee and made to bow but was interrupted as Choho turned around.

“Idiot.”

Did people here bow differently? Man! He needed a freakin dictionary or something.

Wait!

Something Choho had said. It seemed off. She mentioned that only martial cultivation is painful all the time. All the time. Did that mean the others were painful some of the time?...

“Fuck.”

-_***_-

“I have chosen your attendant. It will be that man who you found in the forest, Sikta.”

Okaha looked at his mother with confusion.

“Him? He seems kind of. I don't know. Weak.”

“Oh yes, he is quite the pussy. I once saw him stub his toe, and he rolled around on the ground for an hour. It was ridiculous.”

Now Okaha was even more confused. Why would his mother choose Sikta to be his attendant? He didn't want to seem conceited, but he had a 93-circle spirit print. He would leave behind many others in the dust in his cultivation journey. It was also a great way to stick it to the rest of the Gren clan. A genius coming from the fringe members of the clan. Ha!

“He has an 89-circle spirit print.”

“…What?”

89 circles!

Okaha stood and began to pace.

This didn't make any sense. Another genius-level talent was right next to him this whole time. What were the chances of that?

The circles represented the quality of a person's spiritual roots. A person could have 0 circles, meaning little to no talent, all the way to 99 circles, godly talent. That meant that Sikta was only 4 circles away from having the same talent as himself!

The chances of them meeting were astronomically slim.

“Well, I suppose his talent will make up for his other deficiencies. He will also be able to keep a good pace with me. Although I don't know how useful he will be in battle.”

His mother nodded.

“Yes. I was thinking, perhaps, he could take a profession such as alchemy or soot smithing.”

Okaha nodded along.

“Yes, that would be very helpful.”