“Did you hear? About the new disciple that just joined.”
“I heard that he was brazen enough to offend Elder Shirong!”
“No way. Does he have a death wish?”
“Apparently,” The male disciple leaned in conspiratorially, even as he made no effort to keep his voice down. “He declared that he would conquer the fifth floor of the Gilded Dungeon in three months.”
“Fifth floor? Is he insane?”
“What happened next?” A different voice asked.
“Elder Shirong put him in his place. She told him to live up to his words and prove it, or leave the sect.”
A few gasps were heard.
“You won’t believe what else I heard. Apparently he’s Senior Sister Ju—- Oh,” The voice came to an abrupt halt. “He’s here,” The voice whispered, before dying out entirely.
Griffin wore a very baffled expression on his face as he followed Jun-Ra and Shen-Ya into the Martial Law Sect’s mess hall.
‘Why are these millennials and boomers acting like it’s their first year of high-school? Are they messing with me?’ Griffin wondered, as his gaze sweeped the hall.
Again, it was a fairly utilitarian set-up. Long cafeteria-style tables with benches affixed to them on either side running parallel to each other with a buffet-style serving of dishes running along the mess hall’s northern perimeter. The melange of aromas crowding the air were too diverse and hitherto unexplored for Griffin for him to reach any conclusions, but his stomach told him that any food at this point would be good food.
‘Well, if they want to talk smack they can go right ahead. I’m here for one thing and one thing only—- free food.’
Unfortunately, Griffin had already learned his lessons once. The intricacies of mannerisms were far more nuanced in Aeldfane and by that Griffin meant that he could have ancient women trying to kill him for saying the wrong word. Apparently, anyway. If keeping his head down let him get through lunch in peace, then he would follow Jun-Ra and Shen-Ya for as long as it was needed.
Griffin’s lunch ended up consisting of a comically large slab of meat, an aromatic yellow curry and three delicate looking dumplings. He pretty much had no idea how any of it was going to taste besides the little hints the aromas offered. The curry seemed to have an element of spice going on, while the sizzling slab of meat had a strong sear to it, the savoury aroma telling of a high amount of fat in his otherworldly steak. The dumplings were the only one that lacked an aroma, the sweltering heat emanating off them the only hint— one which he couldn’t make much out of.
His gaze shifted to Jun-Ra, the uncertainty in it painfully obvious. Had he chosen the cultivator equivalent of a pufferfish and would poison himself if he didn’t eat the right cut of meat?
Thankfully, Jun-Ra offered him a subtle nod, neither of them foolish enough to openly bring into question his suspicious lack of knowledge pertaining to even the most basic of etiquette not only in Zenari-Shu, but the entirety of the Yushan Sect’s territory.
Thankful for the confirmation, Griffin began to dig into his meal.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The dumplings turned out to be packed with warm soup that burst into his mouth before he even realized what was happening. His tongue ended up a little scalded, but Griffin powered through only to realize that it tasted…. amazing.
A balance of sweet and salty with a tangy punch to it, the soup felt like a blend of three or four different flavors from back home, to create a fascinating new taste profile.
The meat was so tender that it seemed to melt in his mouth the moment he bit into it and Griffin couldn’t stop until he had devoured about half.
As for the curry, it was spicy, yes. But not in the way he was accustomed to. His body as a whole seemed to break out into a cold sweat, though it surprisingly did not feel as uncomfortable as it should have— almost as if his body was expelling contaminants. Like those nutrient energy drinks that were supposed to make you fitter and healthier but they actually worked.
That wasn’t all though.
Griffin felt a fire in his stomach, a literal one, that began to suffuse every inch of his body. The exhaustion he felt from fighting the crackjaws, encountering Jun-Ra and Shen-Ya and their subsequent long walk, or rather, trek, to the Inner Courtyard of the Martial Law Sect begun to leave him at a pace that should not have been possible.
‘This feels great.’
----------------------------------------
With his stomach full, armor equipped and a dull sword in his hand, Griffin headed back to the place where it all began.
Of course, this time he was accompanied by Jun-Ra and Shen-Ya, who walked a fair distance behind him. Apparently the Crackjaws were not completely stupid and avoided leaping face-first onto cultivators whose strengths they could sense, a basic survival instinct that was encoded into their genes.
Griffin still didn’t count though, as he learned first hand. The Crackjaw leapt at him in a flurry of motion, but this time, there was no hesitation in Griffin’s movements as he sword shot outwards in a protective arc.
Rather anti-climatically, he sliced through the first Crackjaw in half.
The second and third followed not long after.
Drenched in the blood of the Crackjaws, Griffin found himself lightly panting from the onslaught.
That was the precise moment the fourth Crackjaw chose to make it’s appearance.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Griffin snarled, as he took the initiative this time by thrusting his sword forward. He knew of course that Jun-Ra would aid him if he missed the strike. But even then, Griffin was surprised when his blow actually landed.
Piercing through the Crackjaw’s scales, his blade poked out from the other side. The last crackjaw he needed was dead in seconds.
[You have slain a level 6 crackjaw. ]
[You have slain a level 5 crackjaw. ]
[You have slain a level 6 crackjaw. ]
[You have slain a level 5 crackjaw. ]
[Status Upgrade in progress….]
[Class assigning….]
[Name: Griffin Thorne
Age: 18
Race: Human
Calling: Apostle of Greed.
Class: Master of None - Novice (Unique)
Class Skills:- Analyze (Level 1), Skill Thief (Beast), Skill Thief (Martial Artist), Skill Thief (Alchemist), Skill Thief (Rogue).
Gifts: Gift of tongue: Common Verickan
Level: Level 4 (14.92%)-> Level 5 (3.16%)
Rank: F-> E-
Statistics:
Physical: 4
Mental: 4
Proprioception: 1
Free points: 1 (New)
Soul Essence: 13/13-> 14/14]
‘What the hell, man,’ Griffin thought the only thought he could muster in the moment.
He might be well and truly fucked.