Three months have passed since Fonta began his expedited training. The smell of fire filled the kitchen as various items were being prepped for a lunch rush. Multiple cooks were stationed around the kitchen focusing on tasks designated to them.

“I need those onions diced!” Yelled a large man with a white beard.

“Yes, Chef!” Replied a young man with purple hair covered in a bandanna. He grabbed his knife and in moments moved on cutting into an onion. It only took a few seconds and the pieces were nearly uniform.

“Now the carrots!”

The young man didn’t even look at the carrots flying towards him as they were cut up in mid-air before placing a bowl under them. Fonta placed that bowl down, slid the onions into another then passed them to the chef who began to saute the onions.

“Celery sliced, mince the garlic, peel the potatoes then the beets.”

“Yes, Chef!” Fonta got to work killing, defeating the vegetables in combat, and gaining proficiency in using knives and bladed weapons. He’d learned that thinking of the potato skin as an enemy allowed him to will the knife to skin it nearly perfectly. It was the same with the beets. Garlic was crushed and then minced, while the celery was until it was a little more than paper thin.

“Great! Now go cut the meat, I need the loins prepped, then brought to the stove then the ribs and brisket brought to the pits.”

“Yes Chef.” Fonta moved into a room colder than winter and picked up a cleaver.

From there with practiced perfection the body of a mammoth-sized cow was butchered, then carried to their respective stations. As he brought the food to the outside fires a bald man in dark shades and an orange beard took them into his large arms and began the process of preparing them for lunch and dinner.

“Good work kid, get to the firewood.”

Finishing his morning prep work, Fonta moved further to the back and began cutting wood with an ax for the pits and other fires.

After another thirty minutes of labor, Fonta moved towards his third job which was cleaning a local monastery.

By the mid-afternoon, Fonta was free of his tasks and had time to cultivate. His growth spurt had been ramping up as of late and the opening of his meridians would only promote this so long as he didn’t jump into the next tier.

Yang arrived moments later his hair braided into a single ponytail that flowed down his back. He looked down at Fonta. “You’re back early.”

Fonta didn’t respond as he cut through the blockage on his thirteenth meridian widening the meridian to its limits as he felt something between his eyes and on the bridge of his nose.

As his eyes opened the pupils appeared to expand into a ring and golden light could be seen in the center of his irises.

“Huh, your eyes look…Odd.”

As Fonta regained focus the rings receded into regular pupils. “Alright, I managed to finish my prep and cleaning. It’s been three months. Though I still don’t get why I can’t use a weapon.”

“There is a tournament or something in a day or two. Should be a good chance for networking and good publicity. You should be able to use a weapon there.” Yang crossed his arms.

“No tournaments for me.” Fonta shook his head.

“Why?”

“I’m weak and a soon to be sect leader. My debut is supposed to be a big one. Now if you want to enter…”

“Do you even know what the prize is?”

“No I do not. So it can’t matter too much.”

“First right to enter newly unearthed ruins. Seems it has some tier requirements. Three of the faces of the city are putting this together.”

“I’ll need to talk with my teacher. They might not like it.”

”Be quick, it begins soon. You don’t want to miss out.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“Ruins are important. I may be able to regenerate my legs there should we succeed/”

“Do you not like using chi to control those limbs?”

“It’s taught me alot, but my progress is stifled a bit. I need to limit where I do so or I can damage them. Controlling limbs with chi isn’t easy.”

“How much so?” Fonta asked.

“You have passed me by leaps and bounds and the other two are not far off.”

“Angel and Zara? When did they start cultivating?” Fonta asked.

“No Angel, and Shinra, you know the moving shadow you chased after?”

“Not ringing any bells.”

The wooden puppet seemingly walked into the room. “Fonta, you must enter the event only using the wooden spoon if you must use a weapon however.”

“Why me? Event?”

“Ah right. There is a bunch of misinformation. I don’t know what’s true but it isn’t a tournament of combat ability, it’s a race through the ruins. The fighting was mostly a lie, although there is something I'm missing, be careful.”

“Yang?” Fonta reached for his spoon as an invisible force wrapped around the implement of eating.

“I knew nothing about that.”

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“My people picked up some hidden information on a plot. The goal was to gather as many powerful people at once and have them run through the ruins under the guise of a battle race. Thing is, getting out alive won’t be easy. Three of the other awakened cultivators in the area set this up.”

“So it’s a trap that you’re sending me into?”

“You, and one other, Angel isn’t ready, leaving a choice between Yang who can’t run on his prosthetics too long, Zara who is a demoness, and Shinra the shadow dancer.”

“Meh…Yang, how close are you to getting healed?”

“I made enough to buy a miracle regrowth pill, but I’ve been learning chi projection and aura techniques to enhance my body. I can heal later.”

“Chi projection? Aura? Are you learning things?”

“Yes, he is, learning to manipulate artifacts as an extension of one’s body early can allow one to master aura control and projection faster.”

“He gets that and I get to cut onions?” Fonta crossed his arms.

“A blade unsheath in times of peace, is a rabid beast without a leash. You don't need to master regular weapons now, that can happen later you need to learn the nature of every type of weapon or tool before I start trying to teach you complex techniques. Also, a certain item should arrive soon, meaning we can start getting you adapted to the language.

“Adapted?” Fonta asked, confused.

“You’ll understand when the time comes.”

“Why do you have to be so crypey.”

“Creepy or cryptic?”

“Yes.” Fonta walked towards the washroom before returning in a new set of clothes thirty minutes later.

“So. Who do you want with you?”

Fonta slowly blinked as if he hadn't spent the time thinking about it. “Do I need to choose or can I just take Zara and Shiny?”

“Shinra.”

“That's what I said.” Fonta stated.

“There are a select number of slots.”

“If Zara pretends to be my servant can’t she be counted as a part of my ability?”

“She could, but…”

“But what?”

“If she fights, chances are the people in charge will get violent if it gets out.”

“I could just go with Yang.”

“Do you despise me that much?” A gray-haired girl with dark skin and red irises approached Fonta and pressed a sharp black nail on his torso. Prior to his growth spurt, he’d been shorter, now he was only slightly taller.

“Uh. Wait, Zara did you change everything about yourself? Is this magic?”

“No, that's Shinra.” Yang stated.

“Ah, never met them. I won’t protect you so if you get hurt it's on you Shiny.” Fonta sighed.

“Never met? We’ve talked.”

“Don’t recall any talking. Anyways let's get going, Shin.”

“Ra, add the ra.”

“Nice to meet you Ra.” Fonta held out a hand.

“Shinra! Remember it!”

“If I remembered every inconvenience I’d never get anything done.” Fonta squinted.

“That’s it. I challenge you to a duel. If I win, you will do everything I say for one week and show me reverence.”

“Fine if I win, you will cease with your pranks, stop sneaking around me, and do all my chores for a week.”

“That's three rewards.”

“Ok remove the sneaking around bit, I don’t need to actually see you if you stop those pranks.”

“What pranks? That’s a fourth.”

Fonta squinted. “Someone has been shrinking all my clothes. Meaning I need to keep buying new sets as they only mold to fit me once. It’s getting annoying.” Fonta was standing a solid 5’2 so while he wasn’t a giant he was certainly much bigger than the 3’5 he was when he started cultivation.

Shinra nodded. “I won’t make any promises but I will swear not to ever touch your clothes.”

“Or steal my left socks.”

“Or steal your socks? If I lose.”

“Good. Where are we duling?”Fonta asked.

“Here now!” Shinra disappeared into Yang’s shadow.

Yang didn’t seem to react which told Fonta two things.

Rolling to the side and drawing his spoon, Fonta evaded Shinra’s sneak attack and knocked her out with an attack near the side of her neck using the flat end of the spoon.

The fight was over in an instant as the spoon seemed unbothered. Fonta grabbed a piece of charcoal and got to work doodling on her face as he counted to twenty then took a few steps back and waited.

Shinra shot up as vertigo hit her and she fell to her knees, confused.

“What? Seems like I was run over by an ox?”

“How rude, I’d say I held back plenty.”

“I hardly feel anything.” Shinra tried to get to her feet again and collapsed.

Yang shook his head knowing all too well. “I’d like to say I lasted longer, but…I don’t actually remember what happened after he showed up.”

“His talent is strong enough to cross tiers with the right tools and experience, but he isn’t unique. This is why he’s using things that aren’t weapons. When he can use a spoon as well as any sword, he’ll be ready to take the next few steps. Having seen him in action, just to be clear, Fonta are you right handed? Based on the fight in the ruins where you nearly died. You seemed to struggle.”

“I’m left handed. Though I tend to fight with both pretty well. So when that trap got me…Yang you’re coming.” Fonta eyed his left arm.

“What?” Yang asked in surprise.

“When I completed the ruins back home I’d lost my left hand and had to adjust to not being able to fight at my best ability. After completing it my hand grew back and most of my scars faded.”

“All that, and you’re just going to leave me behind.” Shinra crossed her arms.

“It’s not like we’re entering in a group. Right?”

“Come again?”

“Do we need an invite to enter?”

“Well no, but you need to procure a token. I’ve only received two. You’d need…no, you damned battle maniac we need you to lay low.”

“Hey… Shinra, that shadow hiding thing you do, how long can you stay there?”

“Thirty minutes before I need to come up and recharge my chi. Why?”

“She can stay in my shadow as a stowaway and sneak in when I enter through the door.”

“If anyone sees her they’ll know we brought someone extra.”

“Ruins are dangerous, to be completely honest don’t expect the others to last very long if it's deep.” Fonta said as he crossed his arms.

“That's quite cocky.” Yang stated.

“It’s obviously a trap, why else would we need exactly sixteen. There is another purpose to this.”

“Intuition again?”

“Yes.”

Yang looked at the puppet. “Let Fonta take his umbrella, it doesn't matter if he hides it with Shinra, there shouldn’t be any problems if he sticks with his spoons until he actually needs a weapon. Right?”

“He’s close to a breakthrough, but if all his spoons break he’ll have to do what’s necessary to survive.”

“What kind of breakthrough?” Fonta squinted.

“That is up to you. There should be a boost to your talent’s level soon. You’ll understand when it happens.” The puppet added.

“Great…” Fonta retrieved his umbrella and tested a few of its hidden functions confirming that the tricky weapon was his.

“So you’d rather use your umbrella over the spoons? That doesn’t seem wise.”

Fonta released the blade lock and drew a long and thin blade which he slashed once near a set of candles to his side. Nothing happened at first, as the boy returned the sword to its sheath. Then both wicks and the candle under them slid off and landed on the metal tray holding the thin strip of wax beneath showing how accurate the attack was.

“If I need to use this we will likely be in danger.” Fonta looked at Yang with a curious gaze.

“What?”

“I want to see your form. You were quite weak in our first fight.”

“Only you would say that I'm weak.”

“Care to show me anything different?” Fonta asked.

“Might as well.” Yang sighed as he drew a straight sword from his robes.

----------------------------------------

Fonta waited in the courtyard as Yang watched him closely. Both were prepared to launch forward and engage in a test of combat.

“Begin!” The Puppeteer commanded.

In a burst of dust, Fonta closed the distance thrusting his spoon forward like a spear toward Yang’s chest.

Yang sidestepped the thrust grabbing Fonta’s outstretched arm and using his momentum to slam him into the ground.

With a twist, Fonta slithered loose and landed a kick to Yang’s prosthetic leg to stagger him a bit.

“Ahg!” Fonta yelled as he sprained his leg on impact. Pushing through the pain he retreated and took on a defensive stance.

“Harder than you thought.”

“Keep going.” Fonta took on a defensive stance.

Yang moved forward, completing a series of strikes that Fonta redirected, blocked, or dodged with ease for a minute before parrying the final blow and thrusting forward. He knew this style after all.

Yang spun into the attack landing a palm strike on Fonta’s torso.

In response, Fonta turned into a whirl of spoons and chaos as he closed the distance and ended the fight after slapping Yang in his torso three times with a spoon. Causing him to suddenly collapse, clutching at his chest.

Fonta landed, took a breath, and then sprung forward, completing a series of movements that ended with a dragon of ice flying toward Yang.

Yang mirrored the technique as a dragon of ice crashed with its counterpart though where Fonta seemed able to continue Yang seemed to be nearing his current limit.

“That's quite the progress, can you continue or…”

“Do you admit that I'm much stronger than I was?”

“Meh, surviving more than one blow from me proved that. I won’t say we’re even but the gap has closed quite a bit which makes me wonder if my training was worth it.”

“The thing that makes you strong is only effective on the weak and untrained. Hence why you need to train a bit. Any intermediate level disciple of weapons should keep up with you. While unpredictable, anyone with proper training and a decent cultivation can male up the difference.”

“I’m also using a spoon.”

“The flat end as well.” Angel added.

“Maybe if I used the sharp end, or the pokey bit.” Fonta examined the blunt instrument.

“Alright go get some rest, you have the next few days off from work.”