Benton decided to stay up all night. The four guards on duty each shift were fine to deal with any mortal concerns such as raising an alarm if bandits approached or scaring off wild animals, but he wanted to make sure no cultivators appeared in range of his spiritual sense.
The night passed quietly, however, and he found himself really wishing he had the internet. He had managed to find some scrolls of what passed for fiction back in the city, basically short stories involving ghosts for some reason, and a couple of books of compiled stories about cultivators. Those last were amusing at least, but he’d already churned through everything he’d found.
As morning neared, he figured it was time to get some work done. First, he made his way quietly into the woods about fifty yards from the dirt cart path—he refused to call it a road—and buried the Jade Chameleon Sect member’s body.
The man had a storage ring, and it was accessible. Benton didn’t know if it unlocked upon the man’s death or if anyone could have accessed contents at any time; both types were in common use with the latter being much less expensive. Only the costliest ones remained locked after death.
Neither he nor Su’s memories had any idea how to create a device that detected a user’s death and reacted to the input, but Benton hoped to learn one day. Making objects seemed like a good, productive way to pass the time since he couldn’t cultivate.
The contents of the sect member’s ring were okay but not exactly a financial windfall. There were less than a hundred silver taels, which according to Su’s memories most cultivators kept handy if they might have occasion to frequent mortal inns and such. The actual prizes in the ring were five spirit coins and several weapons, all suitable for use by a Foundation Establishment cultivator, including three swords, a half dozen knives, and nineteen of those throwing blades the man had used to try to kill Zou Tian.
Benton extracted anything that seemed like personal effects—clothes, toiletries, personal letters, etc.—and buried those with the body. The loot he transferred to his personal storage and looped the man’s ring on the cord that went around his neck with the others.
That grisly task reminded Benton about the other nineteen bodies he had stored. How crazy was the world when he could actually forget about all the corpses he was carrying around with him. Yikes.
Benton debated just making a mass grave nearby for them until deciding against it. He planned on marking the location for the cultivator’s body, so it was possible that people might search the area. Everyone knew he killed them all, obviously, but finding the bodies would essentially tell them he’d kept them in his ring, meaning his ring was large enough inside for nineteen cadavers plus all the other stuff they knew he put in there.
Ugh. He’d have to wait longer to dispose of them, probably somewhere near the village. Maybe he could feed them to the spirit beasts. It was a little gross to think about, but he wondered if it would benefit the beasts in any way. An interesting experiment.
For a moment, he considered that essentially desecrating the bodies of his foes set a bad precedent, but he was living in a cultivation world. He was too soft and knew he was having trouble developing the toughness he needed to be a sect leader. Being less than kind to enemies remains was the least he could do.
If they didn’t want their bodies to end up in the stomachs of spirit beasts, they shouldn’t have tried to steal his stuff.
Yeah. That sounded like a more appropriate amount of toughness.
Benton’s next task was much less gruesome. He wanted to create a mobile cultivating platform for his disciples, a fancy way of saying he was going to clear out half of one of the wagons and put a couple of layers of bolts of fabric down for the kids to sit on. By layering herbs up to the full depth of the wagon in one half of the bed, removing the fabric needed from the miscellaneous items wagon, placing some of the herbs where the fabric had been, and storing more than a little bit of herbs in his ring, he was able to both create the space he wanted while hiding that he'd stored any.
Kind of. If no one was too observant.
He shrugged, wondering if it really mattered. It was going to be very difficult if not impossible to keep secrets from the people he traveled with, and they already knew about his advancement. Besides, how was he going to keep his secret after he pulled endless hot meals from his ring?
If any of them betrayed him, he’d just have to cross that bridge when he came to it.
The only reason he didn’t just store everything in his ring was that, for all he knew, message talismans were flying back and forth between Sixth Flawless Flowing City and Vermillion Incomparable Rain Town. Every merchant that passed might be spies detailing everything they saw to report back to the sects.
Yikes, living in a cultivation world sure was making him paranoid.
Finally, the sky started to lighten, and he had the guards wake everyone up. Benton told them to get in the wagons without breakfast. There were some groans at the order, but after his display of power the previous night, everyone jumped to comply. In less than thirty minutes, camp was broken, and the caravan was off.
Benton started with Ye Zan, walking beside the man. “Tell me, what was your favorite street vendor food for breakfast back in the city?”
The man surely thought Benton was playing a mean trick on him, first ordering him to skip breakfast and then asking about his favorite food.
Ye Zan’s stomach growled. “Steamed pancakes with mutton or goose, Esteemed Master Cultivator.”
“No, you have to choose—mutton or goose.”
“Mutton, Esteemed Master Cultivator.”
“Alright, one order of steamed pancakes with mutton coming right up.” Benton pulled that exact dish from his ring and presented it to the man.
As its name implied, steam rose from the meal, indicating it was still hot. The man did a double take.
“Esteemed Master Cultivator, this meal is for this lowly one?”
“Of course, you didn’t think I’d let you go hungry did you? Only the best for my retainers. I have more than enough hot meals to serve all of us for breakfast and lunch until we reach the village.”
As he left Ye Zan, sputtering out thanks, behind and moved to the next guard, Benton once again congratulated himself on how clever he was. He bet none of the protagonists in stories like Greg’s ever figured out that particular use for a spatial ring.
It was late in the morning, well after everyone had finished eating, when they saw the first merchant train of the day passing the opposite direction. As they neared, Benton got off the wagon, telling his caravan to keep moving—he wouldn’t even have to jog to catch up—and slowly approached the other carriages.
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The merchants and their guards were understandably nervous about seeing a stranger come near.
“Apologies, Esteemed Merchants, this one needs a service.” Benton pulled a wax-sealed letter from his ring and held it up. “This letter goes to Elder Kang Ya-Ting of the Poison Claw Sect in Sixth Flawless Flowing City. How much would the Esteemed Merchants charge to deliver this missive?”
Seeing that the stranger had a service he needed to purchase and was offering money, the merchants perked right up. They, of course, started the negotiation by saying they couldn’t possibly accept money from an Esteemed Cultivator. He insisted. They hemmed and hawed. He insisted again. They suggested a hundred taels. He intimated that he should destroy their entire wagon train. They eventually settled on ten taels, still a ridiculous sum, but it wasn’t like he was worried about the money.
After the laborious process of goodbyes was completed, Benton sauntered to catch up with his caravan, and the rest of the day passed without incident.
Knowing his planned evening activity was likely to take a while, he had the drivers make camp a little earlier than the previous day. Once dinner had been eaten, he had one of the drivers start a large quantity of water boiling before he addressed all the mortals.
“The village we’re heading to is besieged by spirit beasts,” Benton said. “You don’t have to worry. Yang Xiu, Yang Ru, and I are more than powerful enough to protect all of you, and when we’re ready to take the next shipment of Orange Vigor Spirit Wood back to Sixth Flawless Flowing City, you can all return with payment just as we agreed. However, I do have a different deal, a different path, that is open to you.”
Benton watched all of them to gauge their reactions. Some seemed interested, others wary.
“One of the ways I’m helping the village is to create a sect and teaching some of them how to cultivate in order to be able to protect themselves and their families from the beasts, but it will be several months after we arrive before any of the villagers are strong enough to take on the defense themselves. The two months we’re spending in these wagons is thus being used very inefficiently. If I could get a bunch of guards trained and cultivating as we travel, those guards will be ready—or close to ready—by the time we arrive. Instead of a delay, I can have the harvesters start immediately, saving me time. For this reason, I am willing to teach any or all of you to cultivate. Questions?”
As expected, it was Ye Zan who spoke. “That sounds like an amazing opportunity, Esteemed Master Cultivator, but this lowly one thought that most people are too untalented to teach to cultivate.”
“Very, very, very few people can’t learn at all. It’s just that some have a much easier time than others. Sects typically prefer to concentrate their resources on members who have the best chance of reaching Golden Core or higher. My situation is different. I believe that any diligent student I teach, regardless of that student’s talent level, can reach Foundation Establishment, and that realm is high enough to accomplish my needs.” Benton paused for a moment, deciding to level with them somewhat. “To be clear, the likelihood is that each of you have little talent.” He pointed at his disciples, all cultivating in the back of the wagon. “They all have good talent and will be treated differently than you. That is not to say that you will be treated poorly, however. For example, you will have access to more money than you’ve had before and never want for food. And there are many other benefits to being a cultivator. You will no longer be vulnerable to mortal ailments. Your lifespan will increase immediately. Upon reaching Foundation Establishment, you will likely live one hundred and fifty years and be much healthier overall. You’ll be capable of superhuman feats.”
Most of the mortals were nodding, already envisioning themselves riding flying swords. A couple, like Ye Zan, were thinking hard.
“I’m guessing that some of you are thinking, what’s the catch?” Benton said.
Ye Zan nodded. “Apologies, Esteemed Master Cultivator. This lowly one has been burned in the past by empty promises from an employer.”
“No, I understand and respect that. There is a catch. You will be required to do my bidding. I am the sect leader. What I say is law. I need guards, so if the eleven of you who signed up for that task aren’t prepared to fill that role for the long term, that’s a problem. For the drivers, we’ll talk, but I need guards. Any function you seek to fulfill would have to benefit the sect just as much or more than you becoming a guard to sway me.”
There was one of the drivers whose qi aspect intrigued Benton. It was earth aspected but with a flavor of tending to animals instead of plants. The really big, important sects had pavilions devoted to animals.
“You also will no longer be paid in silver,” Benton said. “You’ll instead receive contribution points for performing tasks for the sect. At this point in time, those contribution points are essentially worthless, and you have only my word that they will become valuable in the future.”
One of the driver’s timidly met Benton’s eyes. “This lowly one accepts the offer, Esteemed Master Cultivator. Whether what is paid to us has value or not doesn’t matter if this lowly one can truly learn to cultivate. This lowly one has watched too many friends and family succumb to sickness when an epidemic sweeps through the slums. Even if the Esteemed Master Cultivator spends this lowly one’s life easily, well, how much shorter could it possibly be?”
“Thank you...” Benton struggled for a moment to pull the man’s name from his memory. “Hou Yazhu. I will gladly accept your service. And your life will not be spent easily. If you have to sacrifice your life to save the lives of other sect members, then I appreciate the choice you made. Do not sacrifice yourself for anything short of a life and definitely not for the sect’s honor or to save face or some other such nonsense. You, Hou Yazhu, will be a valuable addition to my sect. Your corpse is worthless. Remember that when choosing to risk your life.”
The man kowtowed deeply.
After that, one after the other kowtowed, including Ye Zan. A long, long bai-si tea ceremony followed, and Benton tried not to let his impatience show. He found it another good reason to get his sect founded as soon as possible.
As long and drawn out as the ceremony was, though, the fact he’d gained seventeen new disciples was amazing. The amount exceeded his current roll by one. His future sect had just taken a giant leap forward, the biggest one yet.
With the last of the mortals inducted into discipleship, he pulled the silly quartz orb from his ring and proceeded to pretend to use it to determine each’s talent and spiritual roots, all of them ranging from F- to F+ and of various aspects. Since none of them were nature aspected, he quickly handed each a jade slip with the Supreme Foundations of Heaven Cultivation Method and a rank one spirit beast core. A relatively short time later, and they were all officially cultivators.
Benton pulled up his status.
Sect Name: Not Chosen Sect Members: 0 Disciples: 33 Sect Points: 25 Shop Points: 37 Host Cultivation: Foundation Establishment - Minor Realm One Qi Available: 1,110 Host Body Cultivation: Bronze - Minor Realm Two Host Techniques: Analysis - Large Success Basic Archery - Large Success Basic Spear Combat - Large Success Pill Basics - Large Success Menus: [Cultivation Method] [Technique] [Quest] [Perk] [Advancement] [Shop - LOCKED]
Adding seventeen to each of three pools made Benton feel a lot better. Twenty-five was a reasonable number of Sect Points, especially with no major foreseeable expenditures on the horizon and nineteen new disciples who should advance a minor realm in the next week to twelve days. The increase even meant he’d paid himself back two of the points he’d used for advancement, leaving only four remaining. Benton would be back to increasing his personal power before he knew it.
He just needed a few more days like today.