Smack! Smack! Smack! Broom handle crashed against broom handle. Back and forth, back and forth went two rods.

It was a vicious battle, one that would no doubt be remembered for the ages.

“ I shall smite thou down demonic scum! “ My grisled opponent called as they leaped forward with an ever-practiced thrust. Their woven grass robes billowing dramatically in a rather well-timed gust of air. Their graying facial hair flopping about, accenting their rough, well-worked face. It was quite the majestic sight, or so I thought so myself.

Alas, my opponent had yet to face one as experienced as I. Countering the offensive with a delicate twirl, I decisively put an end to my opponent's cockiness. Sending them back tumbling from whence they came! Or, back at least three inches...

An impressive feat regarding the size difference between us. I was but a lean teen, while my opponent was putting on some serious middle-age weight.

As if noticing my directed glare, my opponent let loose an earth-shattering chuckle before giving his berthy stomach a solid smack. No doubt proud of his meaty figure.

“ I'm fat, old, married, and wealthy, what yea going to do about it ! “ My big-bellied opponent screamed before charging forward. I met his charge and broom handle once again smacked against broom handle.

Sadly my small size was working against me here, I was clearly at a disadvantage, there was only one thing I could do.

Throwing myself a few feet back, I cupped my hands around my mouth and screamed with all my might!

“ You perverted scum! You could never defeat me with your seventy-two wives! Your excessive dual cultivation has drained you of both brain and brawn! “

The insult landing, I was able to once again position myself advantageously as my opponent fell backwards. His hands clutching the beaded necklace he wore around his neck.

A vicious smile worked its way upon my face with my small victory. A smile that was soon wiped out rather quickly. Alas, I was not the only one with a silver tongue.

“ You demonic eunuch could never understand the pleasures of realllll Cultivation !! “ My dastardly opponent called back. Actually having the gall to rush forward as I felt his insult land. It was all too much for a small little innocent ‘immortal’ like me.

One foot fell behind the other, and before I knew it I was tumbling down shallow steps.

“ My honor !!! “ I couldn't help but cry as I landed heavily on my arse. Not a single blade of grass had cushioned my fall, and my ass most definitely felt like it was going to bruise, but I had bigger concerns on my hands.

My grizzled opponent was actually laughing at me! The old bastard! Had he no shame!

I could have broken a bone there!

Shooting him a dirty look, I slowly and steadily raised myself off the ground. Completely hiding the fact that I was fine while reaching for my fallen weapon of mass destruction. I tensed, waiting for the perfect moment. Within seconds it came. My opponent had actually made the mistake of approaching me.

Pa ! My broom struck true, and I had somehow landed a heavy hit to his face.

A definite win.

“ Aha, even if I am demonic, in the end, I am the superior cultivator! “ I gloated in victory, smiling as my opponent reeled backward.

Not quite ready to get beaten by my previous fall, my Fourth Uncle had just the thing for this sort of situation. With a swig from a hidden decanter, red cherry water soon spewed from my opponent's mouth as they fell back in false defeat. An expensive cotton throw pillow somehow appeared to cushion his fall.

“ Ohhh my heart! “ My fourth uncle cried, his arms wailing about as he did so!

He was definitely, not at all laughing his ass off as he rolled up and down the temple steps that we had swept clean not moments earlier. I also was most definitely not laughing my ass off as he did his little bit. Spewing cherry water all over as he spent an egregiously long time cursing my immediate family (including himself by proxy) and faking death.

It occurred to me that we would have to spend a few more minutes wiping the mess up before we left. Red cherry water was incredibly prone to staining things so we had to work quickly. But of course, I didn't care, as I too found the whole thing hysterical. The few minutes of cleanup would be well worth the gag.

My imagination ran wild, I could almost see the blood spurting out of my Fourth Uncle's life as he bemoaned his ‘fate’. Lightning striking down in the background as the world mourned the death of one of its strongest legends. A solemn tomb of natural occurrence, destined to be erected at this very sight. It was all so grand. So amazing. So much more than the life of a mortal had to offer.

Cultivators were the things of legends. The things that maybe one peasant within a thousand villages saw maybe once or twice in their lifetime. Sure, in some places cultivators were more common than others. With some towns seeing cultivators on the daily. But upon the eternal plains of the singing grass cultivators were as rare as uncorrupt government officials. And according to my aunties and uncles, those were nothing but myths.

Sure, there was the odd chance a cultivator could have been flying overhead and smitten our mortal arses to dust for our transgressions against the honor of cultivator kind. But the chances of that were so slim that we peasants of the eternal plains never bothered to care.

What was a little risk when a falling immortal could accidentally immolate your entire world in an instant?

The immortal plains were but a single grain of sand upon an endless beach. To a cultivator, my entire world was probably painfully small. To even the most mediocre of the all-powerful, my world could probably be blown down with a single breath.

That was why, us of the eternal plains, simply did not care. We would have our fun or die trying. This was what us mortals of the unnamed villages did in our past time. This was our culture. This acting and reenacting the tales of those marginally more important than us, it was all we had.

Perhaps it was our way of attempting to grasp at some semblance of control. Pull at the strings of fate that those above us so easily commanded. Living as an ant could get dark if you thought about it too much.

That was why we didn't. Instead, we used humor and storytelling to cope.

It was a way to keep entertained. It was a way of life.

And on the slim chance, someone from our little slice of the infinite heavens actually got scooped up by a wandering cultivator, our little jokes could mean everything. Who knows, somehow knowing wildly inaccurate information about cultivation could save a lucky mortals life.

Duel cultivation was bad, and demons were best avoided. The strongest basis of every cultivator tale. That simple knowledge would have probably stopped half the drama in the heavens from unfolding. It was sad then that the reverend immortals never took the time to listen to their ‘lessers’.

Slapping my face a few times to break out of whatever muck I was digging myself into, my uncle and I quickly finalized our weekly refreshing of the traveler's shrine. The work was easy and never too much of a bother. A little bit of elbow grease was the worst of anything required. The five statues that adorned the shrine only occasionally got covered in the smallest bit of dirt.

Graceful and flowing, the five statues were of the five founders. What they had founded? No one knew. Not a single soul knew who carved them, nor why they were stationed in the way they were. The village did our own thing, and the statues did theirs.

They “guarded” the shrine meant to refresh passerbyers as they traveled the plains, and we only occasionally stepped in to give them a wash.

That's what I liked about statues, they were quite good at minding their own business. Even without us they would have probably been fine.

They watched the winds and grass…. And we? Well, we had a life to live. Though watching the winds and grass was certainly part of that life. Other than farming and playing cultivator, we really had nothing else to do.

Some occasionally made art, but even that usually ended up being something dedicated to an immortal.

Sighing, my uncle and I picked up our gear and waddled off. The red cherry water long ago swept of the shrine's stone. We took the time to wave the statues goodbye as we departed. We would of course see each other within a week at least, but it never hurt to be courteous.

It never hurt to seed a few seeds of karma as the cultivators called the practice.

Following the winding trail back to the village, Fourth Uncle and I continued our games as we usually did. Occasionally stopping to pick at a rather good patch of weaver grass before continuing onward. It never hurt to grab a bit in case someone's house needed patching.

Wildlife wise spotted a few meerkats here and there on our journey. A roaming kazuzi bizon. Nothing too exciting. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

It was summer on the plains. Nothing exciting ever happened during the summer. Nothing exciting ever really happened ever.

Things were much more exciting within our own little imaginary world, however. Within the realm of imaginary cultivators, my Fourth Uncle was supreme. The strongest of the strong. The wickedest of the wickedest. Even when challenged by others aside from children like me, he was a beast. Besting everyone in our yearly village-wide insult competition.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

No matter what snide jeer I sent his way, he counted stronger. When I called him maidenless, he called me infertile. A true master of the art. He was the raging master of the Flowing winds sect, and I was but still an apprentice. Not yet ready to ride the clouds and face the winds I still had much training to attend to .

I really did still have much to learn from my elders.

Feet pattering on horribly paved ground, the sounds of the village soon reached me.

Nestled within a section of particularly tall grasses, the village stood hidden. Protected from the absolutely “deadly” rays of the evening sun by the tall grass. As most things were this side of the Eternal Plains, it was quite average. A couple dozen woven houses, nothing too interesting. Nothing that could ever draw the attention of even the poorest cultivator. That's how mortals lived. In squalor apparently.

We would never know. We were bound to live this life for the rest of our eternity. However long that would last.

Out on the grasslands, our mortal lives were rather short compared to many of the other provinces, regions, and nations of the world. Without low-level immortal elixirs flowing about, the average lifespan of my dear little home was about thirty to fifty-five years old. It was a rather short life expectancy. Even for mortals.

There was a reason we were so bold in our antics.

Though we rarely had to worry about anything aside from food, the lack of any spiritual activity within the grasslands had cut short the lifelines of all born here. A definite curse with no downside.

The wind caressed my ear, comforting me as I waved to my other uncles and aunties who lived in the village. All chatting each other up as they went about their daily tasks. Some threshed odd variations of natural growing wheat, while others wove clothing and instruments out of stronger more fibrous strands of plain grass.

“ Things aren’t so bad here.” It the wind whispered. “ Things could be much… much worse…. Enjoy the things you have… Cherish the ones you love… Hold close those you hold dear…”.

All in all, I found the grasslands winds oddly optimistic no matter how dark of a tone it took. Perhaps that was its nature. Free and cheery even in the worst of times.

Grumbling as I parted the grass curtain that marked the entryway into my home, I was immediately accosted by my cousins, Shen, Shou, and Shau, as they rammed themselves directly onto my legs.

“ Roooookkkk ! “ They all screamed. Little fingers clawing right into my sore legs. The damn bastards.

“ Did you see any monsters !!! “ The youngest of the three cried! A small green cape fluttered in the air behind him. This one was going through a greening phase so his skin had taken on a slight hue. Overexposure to the grasses of the plains could occasionally do that to you.

It was said that it was caused by a prank a wandering cultivator played upon all the mortals of the eternal plains. It was either that or the odd flu that occasionally hit children.

Perhaps our little jests did indeed come with a rather dull consequence. The people of the grasslands would probably never know.

A harder tug on my leg pulled me from my thoughts.

“ What about cultivators? Any odd old masters! “ Shou, the middle child babbled. A grass hat adoring his still adorable face.

This one was the wildest of the bunch, always getting into the food baskets when dinner was but half a sky away.

“ Screw old masters! Did you see any demons? “ Shau, the oldest yelled. Nothing but a woven grass necklace was worn upon him, other than his trousers of course. .

This one was my favorite. Surprisingly smart for a kid who hated shirts, Shau always surprised me in the best of ways.

Scooping all three of the rascals up, I couldn't help but throw them upon the large woven hammock that sat in the middle of our large grass home.

“ Monsters? Cultivators? Demons? You fools! I am all three !!! “ I deviously cried before diving into the squirming pile of adolescence that had formed before me. “ No head will remain unruffled! No child tickled! “

As it turned out, though it was rather slow, life was rather good for the average mortal here on the Eternal Plains. Well, that was unless you got killed during the grand typhoons, but everyone knew better than to stay outside during those. If you died to above-average amounts of wind and rain, perhaps you deserved it in the end. The winds out here were rather picky with whom they chose to kill after all.

—-----

It was not three nights later, that I found myself cold, miserable, and alone. Trudging back down the temple ‘road’ as our village liked to call the shoddily maintained path. Maybe I was being a bit harsh, but everything looked a bit dull to me at the moment.

Shivering as I pulled a woven grass blanket tighter around my shoulders, I couldn't help but lament my current situation. Cold, cranky, and blanketed in by a thick plain mist, I was not at all very happy.

At least the wind had decided not to tease me tonight.

Someone had lit the pilot light at the village traveler's temple. And of course, I was the one sent out to welcome the guest.

My Uncles? Noooooo, they had to till the fields tomorrow. All they gave me was a pocket knife to maybe defend myself.

My Aunts? Nooooooo, their backs were still sore from their endless grass weaving. All they provided was a small blanket to help me with the journey.

The other village kids? Noooooo, they were too unreliable. Not a single other one was woken up to deal with the issue.

To be honest, though I usually don't particularly mind this specific chore. The Travelers shrine was quite familiar to me, I did visit it once a week after all.

It was always nice seeing the statues. They always added a little bit of mystery and thought to a boring day. Their harsh stares always asked more questions than they answered.

This time, however? This time, the journey was quite unpleasant….

It was cold, wet, and miserable.

And furthermore, that wasn't even the most infuriating thing about the whole situation!

The problem? As I quickly found out, there was no guest waiting for my guidance at the shrine. Instead, all I arrived to was the five statues and a creaky lantern rocking back and forth in the wind.

Giving the statues a look, I couldn't help but notice them look a little more sinister than usual. Especially Mr. Bushy Brows. He was looking especially concerned tonight.

“ You guys see anyone ?” I questioned, not expecting, or receiving a response.

They were statues in the end. I couldn't blame them.

Alas, after a few minutes of waddling around the shrine, I found myself trudging back alone and annoyed back to the village after blowing out the little red lantern. Someone had definitely pulled a prank on me tonight, and I had a begrudging feeling it was Shou. It could have been one of my older brothers and sisters, but they were all rather busy this time of year. Studying for the village chief's examination that the old man required all village children pass. He was an older educated magistrate, so most villagers just rolled their eyes and went along with whatever he proposed. I honestly wished they hadn't when he had proposed mandatory education, but what could I do? At least I knew some of my numbers.

Redirecting myself back to the problem at hand, I slowly narrowed down which villagers were most likely to pull something like this.

Who else could it be after all? This was the eternal plains, nothing interesting ever happened out here. The last time someone got tried for a crime of any sorts was twenty whole moons ago.

And the crime in question? It was the accidental slaughter and consumption of a neighbor's goat. I mean can you believe it? The accidental slaughter and consumption of a neighbor's goat! How boring was that!

The chances of this being a sign of suspicious activity was next to nothing. Even then what would someone gain by annoying the villager sent out to snuff the lantern? Some sick sense of enjoyment?

Suddenly a sense of enlightenment hit me and I couldn't help but slam my hands together with a big slap!

It was most definitely Shou that lit that damned light!

That one had started to develop a mean streak alright. I really had to teach that one the depths of my fury. Just because I was still technically a kid compared to my aunts and uncles didn't mean I wasn't his senior. I would have to teach that little twerp a lesson for the ages !

With my vision restrained to naught but a few feet by willowing mist, I couldn't do anything but count the stone slabs beneath my bare feet on my way to the village. It was a shame I couldn't peer out into the plains at this hour in an attempt to catch a spirit or two, but there was very little that could be done when the fog rolled in. In the end it just gave me some more time to plot my revenge. So far I had started to settle on using frogs to facilitate my evil plot, but regular moon water left out overnight to chill would also work.

Cackling as I walked through the mist, I felt my breath hitch as something hit me. It was not a time to laugh at the moment my brain told me.

Something was not right….

The night wind whispered in my ear. It was trying to warn me of something. Of what, I did not know.

There was also an odd smell in the air. It was a scent I had never smelled before…

It was strange… It was bloody…

Something was most definitely wrong.

Soon a walk broke into a jog, and a jog broke into a run. And soon, a run broke into a full fledged sprint.

It was risky in this foggy weather but the safety of the village came first.

Well, that thought lasted just until I actually made it to the village.

The tall grass that had once shrouded our woven houses from curious beasts had been cut down. The woven houses slashed to shreds. Charms and pieces of those that I had once held dear littering the ground.

My home was gone. My neighbors home was gone. My neighbors neighbors home was gone. It was ALL gone.

There was nothing left.

But that wasn't all there was for me to find that night.

My Aunts….

My Uncles….

They were….

Well… They were very much dead.

I found them in pieces. Chopped up and mixed into a bloody slush. Left out to rot as their juices slowly sunk into the ground. Long sharp tear marks crisscrossing the few bits of flesh left untouched.

I felt my breath hitch. Hyperventilation on its way. A hoarse scream left my throat before I could even think. Tears streamed down my face me knowing.

My brain. It was struggling to process what it was seeing. My thoughts shattering into a million pieces the second I flew past the curtains of grass that marked the entrance to the village proper. It felt like I was dreaming. Sadly, the reality of the situation was undeniable…

Up until that very moment, I had always thought demonic cultivators to be nothing but bumbling fools…..

Idiots that would eventually fall in the end. You know ? Just like the stories my Fourth Uncle and I liked to act out…. The stories that my third Aunt loved to recount to me under the full moon…. The stories that my little cousins so adored….

Apparently, those stories weren't true… Apparently demonic cultivators were actually demonic…. And I also learned that there was no righteous cultivator that would save the day.

I learned that no amount of jesting could save a village from its inevitable fate. That no amount of foreknowledge about its possible impending doom could have saved it. We knew of the one hundred and one ways that cultivators could have torn us down. But no amount of knowing could have saved us in the end. We were useless. We were nothing. We were mortal.

We lived day to day. Caring only about food and the little games we played.

They lived in the future. Our little lives doing nothing but acting as currency for them to sweep around a game board as they wished. We were nothing, and they were something. My entire life had been worthless. My entire village's life had been worthless.

I learned that as a strange oddly dressed giant scooped me up onto its strange fleshless shoulder and knock me out cold with a single. Heavy. Flick to the head.

The thing didn't even have to use half a finger to knock me out. I folded like a sack of willow grass….

How….

How pathetic….