ChuHua ran after her son. She promised herself that she would let him make his own decisions, but she never imagined how hard that would be. Ever since that day in the woods, she’d been wracked by guilt. All of his disappointment and pain ate at her because she knew it was all her fault. Even so, the selfish part of her couldn’t help being relieved. He should be safe now. The life of a cultivator was dangerous and uncertain, and she had never wanted that for him. Now, the decision was out of both of their hands.
She tried to keep a normal pace as she followed him. This didn’t count as interfering. Any mother would run after their son if he was about to do something foolish. As she ran down the steps of their home, a blazing force slammed her against the tree, cracking it upon impact. Her left side was engulfed in a blue white flame. She flexed her core outwards, and the flames died leaving only a trail of gray smoke.
The sable sat a few paces away, licking its paws. Its bushy tail swept back and forth displacing the dirt around him.
ChuHua stood, patting at her scorched hair. “Now you show yourself. I almost convinced myself you didn’t exist.”
The sable blinked its round azure eyes innocently.
“Who told you about us? How did you find us?” she asked. Though, she already had a decent guess. The sable said nothing, continuing to groom himself. ChuHua was not quick to anger, at least not anymore, but something about that creature made her want to rip its rat-like head from its body.
She glanced passed the creature towards the path Shang had taken. He would be almost halfway to JaLong by now. She didn’t have much time to waste. With a growl, she pushed back her irritation. The rat would have to wait.
Before she could take a step in pursuit. The sable jumped in front of her, blocking her path.
“Move,” she spat.
Make me. The sable’s eyes twinkled mischievously in challenge.
----------------------------------------
“Free for all to the death, last few standing gets recruited,” Aran said just to watch Cytan’s mouth fall open in surprise. He and Cytan were standing to the side, discussing the method for selecting recruits, as the students were being run through a standard set of fighting forms.
“You can’t be serious.”
Aran trained the emotion from his face. He wanted to watch Cytan squirm a little longer. The Eastern Continent was governed by the Yong Matriarch. Cytan, being a direct descendent from the Matriarch, had more power than Aran did as the Sect Leader of a major sect in the empire, but this was sect business.
“You can’t kill a bunch of kids,” Cytan said firmly. As part of the ruling family, he had the power to prevent the slaughter of its residents.
“Ah, but I will not be killing kids. They will be killing each other,” Aran said calmly. He knew he would never get away with this with his new handler. Cytan had been assigned to be his advisor to curtail his more…aggressive…tendencies. Though, to him, his suggestion wasn’t ridiculous at all. He’d been chosen by his family to be Sect Leader in much the same way.
Cytan’s deep purple brows knitted together in annoyance. His usual mask of friendliness dropping revealing his distaste. The expression sent a battle thrill through Aran. He was itching to fight him, the incessant thorn in his side. But, not yet. He was not quite ready.
Aran could push more, but decided it wouldn’t be worth his time. He sighed gravely in resignation. “Fine, what would my wise counselor suggest instead?”
Cytan’s smile was back in an instant. He pursed his lips in thought as he studied the students. His smile died on his lips, and Aran could see why. They were so...terrible. “What do you expect, they aren’t taught using the imperial standard. It’s not like they could manage those techniques in the basin,” Aran said. He was reminded again why his sect never recruited in this area.
The qi here was drained down into the sands of the Sapphire Plains, leaving the aura weak, barely able to sustain any cultivation at all. Aran wondered why so many of them even bothered. From the way they strained and groaned under the first sequence of the foundational forms, it was clear that their physical conditioning was also lacking. Aran scoffed to himself. Typical. These backward towns always valued spiritual advancement too much. No concept of balance.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Cytan sucked air in through his teeth. “Hmmm…it wouldn’t be fair to use the same assessment tools for these students.”
“Yes, which is why I think fighting amongst themselves would be the best option,” Aran reasoned. “Not to the death, if you’re so sensitive.”
“Ah, but what makes you think the winners are even worthy of being recruited?” Cytan asked. “Just because they are better than the rest, doesn’t mean they are qualified.”
Aran rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Oh, just decide will you, and stop torturing me with this discussion.”
Cytan considered for a moment before stepping forward to address the students. Heads turned as he approached. Most looked just relieved to be done with the embarrassing exercise.
“Students of,” Cytan paused as a disciple fed him the name of the school, “JaLong, thank you all for being so eager to exhibit your skills so late in the evening. We normally judge potential recruits by their advancement level, but we know that brilliance can blossom even in those with a late start. Within each stage of cultivation there are those that seek perfection and excel beyond expectation. That is what we are looking for.”
Aran shook his head at the theatrics. Why Cytan cared enough to try and impress these pig farmers was beyond him.
“As you know, there are three basic manipulations of pure qi—expulsion, deflection, and containment.”
Cytan reached into his sleeves and pulled out a figurine the size of his palm. It was roughly shaped like a man. The artifact grew in size in his hands until it matched him in height. It had no face, but its body was striated with a carefully etched qi system complete with twelve glowing gems symbolizing the different meridians. He planted it firmly in the ground.
“Watch.” The command was unnecessary since all eyes were glued to him. Cytan stepped in front of the dummy, his palms open and facing the dummy. He breathed in and fired a wave of pure qi into the artifact just below the navel at the nexus of qi channels. The energy spread outwards in rippling waves flooding the dummy’s channels and meridians a pure white. All twelve gems glowed with a blinding light before fading to black a few seconds later.
“Pure qi is much easier to control. It contains no aspects. Shadow is slippery. Fire is volatile, but pure qi is calm. It doesn’t reflect a truth in nature. It only reflects you.” His eyes settled on the students meaningfully.
“Qi is unique. Unlike a hammer or a sword. It doesn’t push against flesh. It exists in all things. Therefore, it can cut deeper than even the sharpest blade. It can enter you, move through you without resistance.” Cytan touched a finger to the training dummy. “Notice during my expulsion demonstration the artifact did not move.” With the push of a finger, the dummy fell backwards, its feet inherently unstable on the unpaved ground. “You will all attempt an expulsion on a dummy artifact. The goal is to light up each meridian without moving the dummy.”
“Since this is the first time any of you have trained with an artifact, you will all have fifteen minutes to practice.” With a gesture, the disciples pulled training dolls from their expanse bags, distributing them to each student.
Aran tapped his foot in a mixture of impatience and amusement. “And here I thought you were soft,” Aran said. Cytan raised an eyebrow in question. “It would have been easier for them to fight to the death. Then at least someone would succeed.”
What Cytan did was deceptively hard. Producing enough force to light up a training artifact wasn’t necessarily difficult, but to do so without any force push back was almost impossible. Aran doubted any of the sect disciples here could even manage.
Cytan shrugged. “How long does it take between someone opening their first meridian and forming a core?” He asked. Aran just glared at him, not deigning to answer. “Not a trick question. For children born in our families, maybe a month? Two if they’re really taking their time. Then it's onto mastering their affinities. They rarely ever work with pure qi again. Why bother, when aspect qi is so much more potent.”
Aran nodded, understanding his point.
“But these children have been doing basic qi manipulation for years. They’re bound to be better. Besides, how else do we justify recruiting them at this stage?”
Aran eyed the students warily. He understood and even agreed with Cytan’s point, but he doubted anyone could live up to those standards. If no one passes, he could always get a few of his cousins to join instead. The thought greatly improved his spirits.
It was frowned upon for any sect to recruit excessively from the Principal Families. Joining a sect was a source of hope for the common cultivator. It was important to maintain at least a veneer of fairness. With enough work, all could rise to the same height. But Aran knew how false that really was. Cultivation was the opposite of fair. Even among the privileged, there were those true geniuses that made all his hard work meaningless. His eyes rested on Cytan and his jaw clenched in agitation.
For appearances sake, it wouldn’t do for all the disciples spots to be taken by those that have better training resources at home. As is, the Shadow Tigers Sect had too many Tora disciples already. But, if it meant filling the recruitment quota for the cycle, who could object? From the grunts of frustration coming from the field, the possibility was looking more and more likely.