Chapter 30: Eric. To drink from the poisoned well.

I was going to have to be careful with this Qi stuff. I'm pretty sure I could get hammered on the stuff if I wanted to or slip into some bliss coma if I was not careful.

Monday was poison day, and Tuesday was going to be the endurance run, and that's all with which I was really concerned. I did not have to keep competing to get into the outer sect; I had already secured that position. In order to get placed in a better Qatar, having a higher rank in more competition seemed like a good idea, but Bjorn had guaranteed me a spot within the subjugators, whatever that entailed. Honestly, competing was more fun than sitting around cultivating, and I wanted to try to improve my standing in the sect if I was going to be forced to stay anyway, and competitions played a large role in that.

They held the poison-eating tournament in the same district, but they used a completely different building. To the side of the arena area was a square building that housed what amounted to classrooms. I walked through the doors this time, not having to wait in line at all. Inlaid and offset stones of various hues adorned the walls, making the interior of the space truly remarkable. In the center of the room was a circular stone counter, behind which a dozen outer select members were acting as attendants.

I walked up to an open counter space and said, "Hello, I'm here for the tournament."

The older man in front of me spoke. "Ah, very good. Name?"

"Eric Leveson."

He scrolled through the same green glass tablet all the attendants had been using during the tournament. It took only a moment before he said, "You will be competing in room F-18. Up the stairs and follow the signs."

"Thanks," I said, heading to the wide staircase.

They labeled the room with a number plack that stuck out slightly from the wall. I had to climb six flights of stairs to reach the floor that held F 1 through 30, but that was about the only hardship I had. My leg was still mostly black and blue, and I limped slightly as I walked, every tender step sending just a hint of pain spiking through my leg. I walked into the assigned room.

Ten desks were in the room, all facing the same direction. I saw the happy girl from the strength competition, and the desk she was standing by was empty, so I headed over.

"Hello again," I said.

"Oh, you are… oh my, it was, it was Eric, wasn't it?"

"Yep, Eric Leveson."

"So good to see you made it, and as I can see from your ranking, you have not been slacking since you passed the first competition. It's very good of you to give these tournaments your all, especially since you're just now starting to fulfill your potential." Her voice had the same happy cadence and energetic tone, but her word choice was biting.

"Thank you. Yes, I have been trying. What was my final rank from yesterday?" I asked.

She looked at the green glass in her hand. "You finished, oh my, at rank 25. That's impressive."

"Well, glad to hear I ranked high enough in that competition as well. Say, can I ask you a question?"

"You just did. But I suppose you mean another. I guess I will allow it since I know you are at least an outer sect initiate now. Or will be."

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"Right… um, why do you do this, score the competitions?"

She tilted her head a bit, confused for a second, before shrugging. "For the contribution points, of course."

And there they were. I was wondering if a sect could even be a proper sect without contribution points. "Ah, I see," I said with a nod of my head.

"Yes, and the…" she stopped as the door opened, and the last of the competitors entered along with a man in a much finer robe. I think, at some point, all this silk robe crape blends together, and I can't really tell what's better or worse. It had more pictures on it. That was something.

The happy girl snapped her attention forward, and I sat in the seat in front of the desk. The man took his place at the front.

"The tournament will begin shortly. In front of you are vials of a compounding paralytic poison. You will drink the poison one vial at a time. One vial every ten minutes. Failure to drink a vial when told to do so will result in you being removed and your rank assigned. If you become unable to move, fall over, pass out, or are in any other way incapacitated, we will withdraw you at the current round and assign your rank. We will inform you if you make it to the top fifty. Each of the attendants will tell you when to consume your next vial, and you will have thirty seconds to comply. Each attendant has an ejection with the antidote. Once your rank is determined, they will administer the antidote. The tournament begins in five minutes." the man finished.

The ten hopefuls in the room all stared around at each other for a moment before focusing on the vials in front of them. I looked at mine. They looked like old test tubes with cork stoppers on the top. They each held the same bright greenish liquid, and there were like one hundred of them. It wasn't going to be running out anytime soon, it looked like.

"Begin." The happy lady said.

I reached for the first vial on the left, popped the top off, and downed the liquid. It was sour, like scrunch your face up, sour and sweet. It tasted like sour apple candy, but the sweetness was almost nauseating. I waited and waited, but honestly, I could not feel anything different.

"Next."

Down the hatch went number two. And more waiting.

"Next."

We popped bottles in the club and played through my head as I drank the third vial. I think I'm feeling something.

"Next."

Four, and maybe something like a slight stomach cramp.

"Next."

This was boring, but I knew it would get more intense as I drank vial five. Hey, one guy in the room keeled over to the side. Shit, he must have a really low cultivation. Everyone in the room was already cycling their Qi. I could sort of feel it, almost like waves of rippling energy being bounced all over the room.

"Next."

Down the hatch number six. There it was. I felt cramping all over. This was cumulative, so I kicked my Qi into gear and started cycling at the second level. I had to be careful, as I could keep this up for a while. My higher levels of cycling would burn through all my Qi quickly if I was not careful.

"Next."

Number seven.

"Next."

Number eight.

"Next."

Number nine. Oh boy, feeling it now. It's hard to move my arms.

"Next."

Ten, okay, increasing the cycling to level 3. Ahh, that's better.

"Next, next, next, next, next, next…"

Right, here goes Vail 16. Feeling it now almost didn't make the cut-off time. I focused on my Qi as it cycled through my body, having it focus on my liver and kidneys. I also had the Qi itself start attacking the poison directly, having the energy break down the toxic compound flowing through my bloodstream.

"Next."

Vial 17, and I feel way better. The focus placed on the Qi changed how my body dealt with the poison drastically. All I had to do now was stay focused. There were only four of us in the room now.

"Next. You have now made it into the top fifty." The happy girl attendant said with a smile.

Vial number forty went down the hatch. I was the only one in the room now. Well, me, the happy girl, and the guy at the front who seemed to be surprised at being in a room with one of the people to make it to the top fifty. Directing my Qi really helped a lot; giving it a focus made my body react drastically differently to the Qi. The effects it was having were way more pronounced.

"Next, next, next…"

Vial fifty went down, and now I had to alternate the speed of my cycling. I would blast it up to level five or six for a bit, then bring it back down to level two. It was getting much harder to move now, and a few times, I almost didn't drink the vial in time. I was also running low on Qi. I couldn't make it much further.

"You are now ranked number 8. Next."

My hand crawled forward as I fought the poison, making me sluggish. I was heavy, oh so heavy, and tired. Sleep, I wanted to sleep. No, have to drink; the nauseating sour apple flavor of Vail fifty-one slid down my throat.

I might be able to make it to number one, but no, that might draw far too much attention. This was the only competition I wanted to place in the top ten in. I fell over my chair, slumping onto the floor.

I felt a slight prick on the side of my arm and a hot, burning liquid race into my veins. I blacked out.

The girl was standing over me as my eyes fluttered back open. I felt remarkably better as I sat up. I had only been out for a few seconds.

"Ah, and you're back. Very well done, Eric. You placed eighth. Maybe you won't be a waste of sect resources after all." Her tone was chipper and happy, but her words were biting. What was wrong with this chick?

"Thank you," I said as she helped me to my feet. We walked over to the man in the front of the room.

His look of surprise was gone, and he dryly said, "There is no prize ceremony for this tournament, as not many attend or even watch it. When you are selected for a Qatar, they will provide your prize. Well done on placing eighth."

"Thank you, sir."

"You may leave; the attendant and I have something pressing to attend to." He said with a sneer.

The girl's face turned blank, and she nodded. I walked out of the room, knowing full well what was going to happen. There's not much I could do about it. This was the way of things in the sect on the planet. Might makes right, and that includes all the wonderful little atrocities that come along with such thinking. The only thing I could do was get stronger, much stronger.

I fell into my bed and set my Qi to cycle lightly. I still was focused on healing, and I hoped whatever residual crap was flowing through me would be out of my system by tomorrow.