Rieren swung her sword hard. She had decided to take a little trip outside of the hubbub of Falstrom and practice her martial skills by herself. The area was nice and calm—a little brook ran merrily nearby, a clump of cedar trees provided shade from the midday sun, and gentle wind made the leaves and grass rustle pleasantly. She was enjoying the serenity here.
The slice of her sword was fast and powerful enough to make the air ripple, but not quite at the level she wanted it to be for her new technique. Now that she had acquired a new technique slot to exploit, she really needed to solidify her next weapon art.
It had been a long time since Rieren had used Everblade Cross. That was what she was targeting.
The weapon art wasn’t an overly complicated manoeuvre on the surface. All it involved was the rapid motion of her sword in a vertical and a horizontal slash, one after the other in whichever order the wielder preferred. The idea of the technique was to open up the opponent’s defense with the first strike, then follow up with a quick, devastating blow.
Rieren was planning to imbue the weapon art with her new Aspect as well. The penetrative and shocking ability of lightning would pair well with Everblade Cross’s purpose.
But while it appeared to be a simple move overall, the force and power necessary behind it required careful practice. Even after having high enough Mind and Body stats to generate the baseline strength and reaction time necessary for the successful execution of the weapon art, one needed to actually put it to practice.
It didn’t just need to be fast. The movement had to be instinctive. Impossible to predict. To that end, it needed to become something that Rieren didn’t even consciously think of.
Constant practice was the only way to achieve that. She would need to imprint it on her muscles, on the very nerves running from her brain to her tendons, letting the integral processes of the body carry out the skill in her will’s place.
At the same time, the rote nature of the practice allowed Rieren’s mind to wander as well.
Weeks had passed since the Avatars’ surprising message. Even after all this while, Rieren had a hard time believing that the imperial court wished to resort to a tournament of all things to resolve all their conflicts.
But the real reason it was hard to believe was because it was so reasonable. The Imperial court was run by the gods. They didn’t care about resolving conflicts in such a manner that would be beneficial for everyone. The only thing the gods stood for was their utter dominance, their complete victory, so this tournament wasn’t really about the benefit for the Elderlands.
Unfortunately, it was starting to look like they had no better options. Rieren was well aware of what had occurred in the last timeline when full-scale war had broken loose.
Death and devastation everywhere. Civilization reduced to savagery, survival such a priority that good men and women descended into base barbarity to live just one more day. After all, the Elderlands hadn’t fallen at the hands of the gods directly. No, it was the war to oust them that had reduced the empire Rieren had left behind to a barren wasteland.
No one wanted that again. Thanks to everyone retaining their memories of their past lives, they were all too aware of the cost of war. Many had seen it first-hand, after all. As such, a tournament where they could settle their differences without collateral damage sounded so much more appealing.
Rieren still hated it, of course. She had a terrible feeling that this was going to end up as some sort of trap. The gods had to have something planned. She just hadn’t figured out what.
Too many suspicions crowded her mind. With everyone gathered in one location, would their enemies resort to one gigantic explosion or some other devastation to kill everyone altogether? A meteor strike like the Elderlands had been experiencing, but worse somehow?
Or more heinously, some sort of assassination that would set them all against each other.
It would break down the supposed order that the tournament would seek to enforce and cause them all to violently lash out. The gathering would dissolve into utter chaos, distracting them all so that the gods could carry out whatever nefarious plans they had set in motion.
Rieren sighed. Too many possibilities. And unfortunately, there were only so many they could safeguard themselves against.
Thankfully, most were smart enough to think of the same concerns Rieren had. As the imperial court had mentioned, there would be negotiations. Assurances of safety would only go so far, but there were other measures being discussed to prevent any potential deceit. Avathene, Kalvia, and the rest of their administrators were hard at work thinking of all potential scenarios.
Batcat meowed loudly from the base of the nearby tree.
Rieren’s mind was pulled back to the present. Her sword swung through the air, and she took a moment to notice the air rippling in the manner she needed. Two slices, vertical and horizontal, so close together that they might as well have been ejected simultaneously.
“You are right, kitten,” she said. “We are making progress.”
Batcat meowed again. It sounded a little dissatisfied. Rieren threw it another biscuit she had purchased from the System Shop, though its answering yowl was no more satisfied than before.
“Alright, perhaps I should redirect my thoughts to what I can do something about,” Rieren said.
The little Spirit Beast was right. Rieren might be famous and powerful, but she still held little actual political power. Martial prowess could only grant one so much strength in politics.
True power on a socio-political scale was derived from one’s political capital. As an orphaned girl with no great connections, she didn’t have much she could call upon. If she died now, it would certainly be a great blow to the morale of many people, but the only tangible vacuum it would leave would be in a martial sense. In her contribution to a battle.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Rieren had no huge family who would mourn her. She wasn’t anyone’s heir. No one would need to redo the lines of succession at her passing, nor did she have any sort of will or any real possessions that others would need to disseminate to her chosen ones on her behalf.
Her life… was lonely. Well, if not lonely in the traditional sense, it was at least lacking in the basic groundwork that many took for granted. No home, no family, no legacy.
From certain perspectives, Rieren’s existence was forgettable.
Not that she truly minded. The general ideas of fulfillment and satisfaction held no charms for her. What use was a partner when they would fail to keep up with her demands? What need would she ever have for offspring for whom she would constantly have to worry? Why would she ever wish to saddle herself with so many social burdens?
Batcat shook its head at her with a disgruntled purr.
“I am not disparaging such things, cat,” she said. “I am merely reaffirming that they hold no value for me. Others are free to do as they will.”
Batcat hissed at her.
“Well… perhaps I could try. One day. Maybe.”
Rieren had found some meaning behind the teaching she had performed, hadn’t she? That was something. It had been a surprisingly satisfying experience. Who was to say that everything else she had discounted so far wouldn’t feel the same way?
But the thing was that she had tried. She’d had temporary lovers in her past life, a few people whom she had met and enjoyed the company of here and there. Whom she had left, or who had left her in turn, for one reason or another. In every case, she hadn’t found anything worth attaching herself to on a permanent basis like so many people clamoured to find.
She’d had friends who had died. Mentors whom she had grown past and left behind, benefactors who had ended up seeking to use her for their own gains, responsibilities to others beyond her own self that had ended up feeling like shackles with the weight of mountains.
Rieren had torn herself free of them all. It had been necessary. She doubted she would have reached a peak that no one else could claim for themselves if she hadn’t divested herself of all claims to mortality.
Her sword froze mid-swing. Batcat was there, sitting on the ground before her. She hadn’t seen it move. A mortal responsibility…
Had the gods gone through the same thing? A chain of life, of yearning and loss, of victories and crushing defeat, of happiness and heartbreak, all to anneal themselves into the Divine Realm?
Rieren couldn’t hold back her growl. “I am not them. I do not seek to corrupt others. I do not wish to conquer and subjugate. I do not need the world to be my playground, do not wish to possess everything as far as my eyes can see, do not want power for the sake of power.”
Batcat drawled out a slow meow, as though asking what then did she seek. She was certain it meant after the gods had been dealt with.
In some mystical time when Rieren’s goal had been met.
Of course, she had plans for that. She had started this timeline with them, had bemoaned the fact she could not attempt to make them a reality without repeating what she had done in her previous life—defeating the gods.
But she had never considered them real. That was what Batcat was pointing out. Wistful, half-formed thoughts in the back of her mind didn’t count as goals. Dreams she hadn’t even spent a single night envisioning would never come to fruition. She needed them to become a focus. Not the main focus, of course, not now. But they had to be real.
“I… will make a home.” Rieren was able to swing down her sword as Batcat moved out of the way again. As she continued slicing through the air, she found her goals materializing. “I will build a nice little house father will be proud of, by a brook where we can fish and with a patch where we can garden and grow our own vegetables.”
Batcat nodded vigorously with a happy little meow. Then it purred inquisitively.
“Yes, yes, some of the fish will of course be for you,” she said, granting the kitten a brief smile before focusing on her blade’s movements. “And I will invite some locals over on occasion, perhaps make friends, and maybe more if the opportunity arises. I will take up cooking and perhaps smithing. As hobbies. That suffices, yes?”
Batcat agreed with a little meow. But it also started making biting motions at her.
Rieren paused her practice to catch her breath and wipe off some of the sweat dotting her brow. Thanks to her advanced cultivation, she didn’t have to worry about fatigue or the body’s responses to it as much. Condensed Essence prevented such things from being a constant, mortal thorn. But things like a bath did sound nice at times.
She decided to take a little break and attend to the cat. “What do you wish to show me?”
Biting motions always meant that the kitten wanted her to check a memory. Rieren drew in Essence, making sure it passed through Batcat’s location. But then, the cat started scampering around.
Rieren started at its sudden motion. “If you do not stay still, I cannot see what you wish for me to see.”
But the cat kept running, making biting motions all the while. It was actually a little ironic that she was free to interpret its calls however she wanted while they were “conversing”. But now, it was obviously trying to tell her something quite specific and Rieren was lost.
She reached out a hand. Didn’t people make strange hissing sounds to draw in cats? She could try that, but then, Batcat wasn’t an actual kitten. “Come to me, cat. Come on, now.”
It eventually calmed down and padded over. But instead of letting Rieren gently pat its head, it chomped down on her finger.
“Ow!” The faint sting made her pull her finger away. She had stopped channelling Essence through her hand. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have felt that little bite. “Do you want to show me my memories?”
Batcat nodded.
Rieren blinked. She wanted to ask why but it wasn’t like the cat could answer. “As you wish, then.”
This time, when she channelled Essence through Batcat’s location, the cat didn’t move.
The memory the cat had dragged out was old. It showed Rieren not too far from her current age, in the older direction, but still clearly at a point where she lacked proper experience. Still, the sight of her past self from this strange, outside perspective was a little… nostalgic. Yes, that was the word.
Younger-but-older Rieren here was remonstrating against Elder Olg’s advice. She recalled that time well. It was one of the first times where she had gone against conventional wisdom.
“A True Summons can be an incredibly potent addition to your arsenal, Rieren,” Elder Olg was saying. He looked much the same as ever in his deep red Lionshard robes. His grey hair was short and wispy as ever. “Don’t underestimate the benefits it can provide you.”
“I’m not underestimating anything, Elder,” the Rieren from the past said. “I’m just pretty sure it’s not the right thing for me.”
Rieren blinked. Monkey’s balls, she’d forgotten she used to talk like that. In that… well, she didn’t want to call it uncouth. That was prejudiced thinking. But it was appalling in a way to realize just how much even her speech pattern had changed over the course of her experiences and the time she had spent in the presence of others.
It was also a little surprising to recall that she’d been able to stay in the Sect well up to and through much of the Exalted realm. The Arteroth clan hadn’t yet decided to rage full-scale war just yet. The dungeon continued spewing monsters, but it was still manageable.
“How could you possibly be sure of something like that?” Elder Olg asked.
“I don’t like my power being tied to some random Spirit Beast I have to pull out of my gills,” past Rieren said. Abyss, she was even using fisherman speak. When was the last time the real Rieren had used anything like that? Her father would have been proud. “I found a scroll saying we don’t have to do it, though.”
“A scroll? From where?”
“The System Shop, of course.”
“Oh. That makes more sense. This weird system of yours.” Elder Olg shook his head, mystified. “I’ll trust you to know if it’s safe enough or not.”
“It’s…” For the first time, past Rieren hesitated. “I’ll need to read more, but I’ll tell you about what I find.”
“I hope that’s a promise.”
“Of course, Elder.”
The memory had already begun fading. A moment later, Rieren found herself back in the little grove where she’d been practicing her swordplay. She looked down at the little kitten, who was looking back up at her with placid eyes.
Rieren smiled. “Thank you for the reminder, cat. It is time we figured out my True Summons situation.”