Chapter 89

World's Intrinsic Cruelty

Leo shuffled awkwardly against the ground, tossing a sword in a soft arc and with a rather lithe grace. It fell as silently as it left his fingers, easily piercing through a rather large hog. He didn't dare look backwards because there was a good chance he'd see eyes of judgment, as he once again wondered just what possessed him to invite Xiaoling on a hunt. Though she knew he wasn't some hermit Master, and was mostly just an ordinary cultivator, it bordered too closely with the feeling of public nudity that it bothered him. In some ways, even, he was better with the latter as he had more experience with it.

Stepping out of the bushes, he walked over and ripped the sword out as she approached, squatting by his side.

"Want me to carry it or skin it?" she asked.

"No, it's--you know how to skin?"

"Hm," she nodded. "Disciples of all major sects learn the four most quintessential survival techniques: hunting, skinning, foraging, and carpentry. Well, I say four, but there's more. We learn to cook, fish, pluck medicinal herbs... you never know, after all, when things might go awry. Being left out alone in the wilderness need not be a death sentence."

"Wow," Leo exclaimed softly, tossing a hog onto his shoulder. It was rather heavy, just shy of four hundred pounds per his estimates, though an apt comparison would be carrying a bag weighing some ten pounds back when he was an ordinary mortal. "Sounds like I have a lot to learn."

"I have a feeling so long as you continue to cook," she said. "You will do just fine. So, you want me to skin and prepare it?"

"I'd appreciate it," Leo chuckled faintly as they began walking back. "I'll toss in extra meat in your portion, then."

"I've been meaning to ask... where is Liang? Did you already kick him out? I mean, I wouldn't blame you, but it would still be cruel."

"Hm? You keep stabbing me with painful assumptions, you know? But I already told you, he's at the Cradle with Yue. Are you alright?" she looked away quickly, but Leo caught sight of the blushing cheeks, prompting him smile faintly.

"Uh, right. Yeah. I've just been... anyway, the Cradle. I was seventeen when I got there. Only managed to grab one item because nobody wanted to group with me--which I've already told you, right." for a moment, Leo wondered what he was doing at seventeen, but the distinctly unlovable image quickly dissolved those thoughts. "Ah, they'll do far better than I did, don't worry."

"I'm not," he said. "Well, I am worried. Not that they won't grab any treasures, but that something might happen to them."

"... do you consider Sects cruel?"

"Cruel?"

"We groom our Disciples through strife and conflict," she said. "Even if we offer them a sanctuary early in their journey, at some point... they have to leave. They have to experience death, pain, sweltering agony, all in the namesake of Immortality. We cannot keep them safe eternally. Every year, we lose around a thousand Disciples. Young ones, mostly. They go into a conflict they are too weak to navigate, and they perish at the hands of another--man or beast. And we hold sigils," she added, her voice soft and melancholic. The two had slowed down until they were barely walking, their footsteps as silent as the world around them. "We write down their names in tomes and swear that their deaths mean something more. But, ultimately... we forget.

"Even recently, when our Sect was attacked and when we lost hundreds... we have already begun moving on. Scars will remain, but thousands of new kids wanting to pass our gates and join us are a reminder that everything is temporary. So," she turned her head and looked at him. "Do you consider us cruel?"

Though Leo wanted to simply say 'Yes', he stayed his tongue. He'd passed judgment before, all through the lens of another world. This wasn't Earth; conflict here, it seemed, was as everyday as peace was. On the road to Immortality, it was evidently impossible to be peaceful. And though, in his heart, he wanted to curse out such painful existence... he couldn't.

"... just the world, I imagine," Leo said. "There's a saying in my... hometown: cruelty is a mother of all teachings. Or others, really, just like it. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, adversity is the best teacher, suffering breeds wisdom... we can't stagnate, and we must always strive to better ourselves. To grow. So, I get it."

"Hm," she hummed for a moment as they broke past the trees and back in front of the longhouse. "Mind waking up my Master while I prepare the hog?"

"Oh, sure," he set the animal down and walked past her. Though he felt bad for lying, there was no other way; he could seldom say the truth to the one person who knew just how weak he was. And even though she never gave him a reason to doubt her, people were... fickle, at the end of the day.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

He could feel her gaze on his back all the way until he entered the longhouse, but he never turned around. They'd be gone soon enough, he felt; after all, both of them were rather important people in the Sect, and being absent for too long was dangerous. Chances were that they'd leave as soon as tomorrow, perhaps even later at night when he was asleep. He wanted to gift them some food and drinks, but Yue had repeatedly warned him to never, ever, under any circumstances allow food that he cooked to leave the confines in the forest.

Naturally, the rule got broken when it came to Liang and her.

"Oh, hello, guys," he encountered quite a few friends on his way upstairs, all of whom joined him, flagging him down and climbing on top of him in some manner. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you all, too."

By the time he reached the room, he weighed at least twice as much due to all the animals hanging off of him. The man was already up, it seemed at least, when Leo entered the room; seated cross-legged on the bed, he was glowing in a rather spectacular and breathtaking manner, visible tendrils of Qi swirling around him like gentle spirits.

Leo stared in silence for a little while, caught unaware.

"Ah, forgive me," the man opened his eyes and the glow vanished, as though never there. "I did not hear you come in."

"I should apologize for not knocking first," Leo quickly said. "Meal--right, meal will be ready soon. We went hunting, so today's food will be meat stew."

"Lovely. I will be right down."

Leo was a bit shocked when he found the hog prepped to the point it felt impossible--leather was set aside, facing the sky, while the meat was separated into sections, all wrapped in thin sheen of Qi for preservation. Xiaoling was playing with the tiny kitten to the side, dragging a visible tendril of milky-white Qi along the ground that the little furball chased relentlessly. He didn't disturb her or interrupt, quickly pouring water into the hanging pots and slowly beginning to cook.

He sliced the long pieces of fatty meat into cubes and tossed them in a semi-cohesive fashion alongside a bundle of herbs, vegetables, and spices. Over the course of weeks and weeks that he spent cooking, he realized one very simple (but quite brutal) reality: no matter how weirdly he tossed things in, or in which ratio, the end result... would be at least good. In most cases, it was wonderful. It hurt, ever so slightly, how little his input seemed to matter.

However, it was true that he could take a 'good' meal and turn it into a spectacular one at least, but he'd also have to dedicate quite a bit of time to it, time that he deemed somewhat unnecessary. At some point, the middle-aged man joined him, sitting down near one of the roaring flames, soon joined by Xiaoling who seemed to freeze in a position as the kitten lay sprawled on her lap, napping.

It was strange, the silence; it reminded Leo of some of the most distant memories that he still had, a bit before his life on Earth turned into the tumultuous storm that it was. When he would finish his homework, and would play with Sarah in the kitchen while their mom made dinner. She'd always pace it so that she'd finish right around the time dad came back home, and they'd eat it in silence. It was an ironclad rule, one that was only ever broken twice--both times by him.

The silence, though, didn't last long--not because of them, but because of the converging line of animals. Soon, there was no space between trees to see anything but the wanting eyes. Leo hurried up slightly and began finishing portions, pouring platefuls and setting them around the camp. He silently set aside three smaller bowls, handing the two to the Master-Disciple pair and keeping one on the side, tucked away, for himself.

"We must leave, now," the man broke the silence as soon as Leo finished up feeding the animals and sat down to eat. "Forgive us."

"No, I understand," Leo smiled faintly. "I am glad you have recovered well enough so quickly."

"... I will forever be in your debt," the man said. "With my life." Leo stumbled slightly at the heavy tone and words, looking up from his cool stew and into the starkly sapphire-blue eyes. "For a moment, I cannot offer it--my home needs me. However, the day I settle the accounts, it shall be yours to do with as you will."

"..." Leo stayed silent for a moment, taking a bite of the stew. "Fine," he knew that it was pointless to argue. For a while now, he realized, there were too many heavy-hearts tearing through the forest. He tried to quell them, but they kept bubbling, almost like boiling water. There were ghosts at night, wailing as though they were begging; there were silent notes of the animals scattered around, some of whom he was certain were older than the forest itself; then there were his own memories, hanging still above him like a looming guillotine, waiting for a moment of carelessness to fall; and there was a passing number of souls in the forest, all seeming to yearn for... something. Every conversation, he felt, slowly steered toward the innermost things--whether it was fear or gratitude.

They left soon after dinner; despite his complaints, they did not leave him empty-handed. The old man--Yu Minge, as Leo learned just before they left--shoved a ruby-encased ring into his hands and seemed like he would outright fight Leo if the latter refused. At the same time, Xiaoling spoke directly into his mind, something he learned cultivators could do awhile back, offering instructions on how to bind the ring and use it. As he did, he found a wealth of things inside--sparkling stones and gems, some tomes and books, and a small mountain of various pills, herbs, and pastes.

Over and over, he was told that kindness was a disease in this world--and yet, over and over, his kindness was paid back, countless times over.

Looking at the faintly shimmering ring, he couldn't help but feel his heart swell; he seldom got emotional, even as others did. Rather, most time, he was uncomfortable. Always had been, really, as far as he could remember. He steered clear of people who wore their emotions on their sleeves, and stuck to those like him, who locked whatever they felt behind a titanium gate, deep inside their hearts. It was the safest way to live, after all, to sell hollow platitudes on the surface, but encase yourself in distinct apathy.

No, shaking his head, he set the ring aside and glanced around the longhouse. There were tiny, beautiful things sprawled everywhere--horned rabbits, strangely large butterflies, multi-headed creatures, birds, snakes, turtles, deer, pigs... from the day this place accepted him, and from the day he accepted himself in it, he had lost. Wholly, completely, and unmistakably... lost.