“If you want to be a guard, you’ll have to prove yourself.” The captain said. He squinted at me, his eyes a brilliant crimson red. His coat was black, much like the Matriarch’s. He looked closer to her than to Nalaar. His horns, bigger than the average goat persons, featured dozens of trophies.
And he was tall. Taller than me. We were standing in the open field on the back side of the clan compound. There were training dummies and wooden weapons leaning on racks, and guards drilled on rotation. They made a mix of bleats and shouts as they swung their weapons together, cultivating techniques that made the air smell earthy.
After breakfast and finding Nalaar, he had sent me this way, telling me that guard work was the easiest foothold into the clan for an outsider, and that with my skill, it would be easy to gain membership. Additionally, the guards were supplied with cultivation techniques and training, a sure path for the talented to ascend.
“A puny human like you has to earn the honor of defending the clan. The guard is responsible for defending our men with our life. Fighting to the death wont be a worry… no enemy of ours will let you run.” The captain continued.
“So you want me to show my skills in a duel? First blood, or to the death?” I asked, pulling out my sword. The man’s eyes widened at the blade.
[I believe he was trying to scare you off.] Interface said.
“No, no, just a practice spar…” The captain said, nonplussed, before turning to one of his guards. “Valar! Sword!” The captain shouted.
The guard at the side grabbed two weapons off the rack, then, activating Scale the Mountain, jumped ten feet across the clearing to land in front of me. She threw a wooden sword into the air.
I caught it, sheathing my own sword.
[What a showoff. I have observed at least three discrepancies in her cultivation technique.]
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to draw blood with this.” I said, looking at the wooden blade. It was sanded and polished, but there were depressions in both edges from previous practice and impacts.
“You won’t be able to hit me anyway.” Valar said. She, too, featured the black coat of the Matriarch, marbled with swirling red lines. Valar, however, did not prominently feature many trophies hanging from her horns. “To first touch.”
Valaar raised a wooden spear with a softened point at the end.
“Okay.” I said. “Are we — ”
Valar shot forward, arms and legs glowing as she activated her cultivation technique. I raised the sword, almost too late. Valar bleated as I deflected. Faster than should’ve been possible, Valar’s spear reversed direction, pulling back for another thrust.
I kicked her on her ass. Valar made a startled bleat as she fell.
“Paying too much attention to the sword.” The captain said.
I stared down wide-eyed at Valar, who pushed herself to her feat.
“Again!” Valar cried. “That — you fight dirty!”
“Okay.” I said, readying myself with the sword.
“Don’t fight to be honorable.” The captain said. He was chewing on a stick now. I didn’t see where he got it from. “Fight to win.”
Valar studied me more closely this time, holding the sword out.
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“Where did you learn how to fight?” She asked.
“Hell itself. And then street fights before that.”
“You boast with even less respect than you fight with.” Valar replied.
Then she stabbed forward.
Instead of leaning away, I leaned in, ready to deflect, but Valar activated her cultivation technique again, pulling the spear back before it ever landed. It was a feint.
She attempted to return a kick for my kick earlier, cloven hoof rising. I raised a knee.
We both grunted as our legs slammed into each other, the pain nearly buckling me.
My wooden sword rested against Valar’s neck.
“Okay.” The captain clapped.
Valar grunted, her face turned in a scowl, as she stepped back.
“Are your legs made of steel or something?” She asked, massaging her leg and dropping the training spear on the ground.
“Just the bones.” I replied.
Valar laughed.
“You’re strong.” She said.
“So do I pass?” I asked.
The captain continued chewing. I scratched my knee as we stood awkwardly staring each other down.
“You wont be much use without a cultivation base. We can’t pay you more than room and board.” He said finally.
I considered.
“How often do you need me?” I asked.
“Work is tight, with the recent clashes in the clans. Six shifts a week.” The captain said.
“I get a day off?” I asked.
The captain laughed. I stared, confused, but he walked up and slapped me on the back.
“I like you already. If you perform well enough, we will give you cultivation techniques. Plus, you’ll enjoy the training here every morning — that’s mandatory. Maybe you can teach Valar a lesson or two.”
Valar, for her part, seemed less indignant. The Shattered Mountain Clan seemed extremely martial. Valar’s entire demeanor changed from indignation to grudging respect after our second spar.
“Again.” She said, throwing the spear to me. I caught it, trading her for the sword.
I fought Valar another few times before switching to dueling other members of the clan. They all fought rigidly, too clean. The captain seemed to enjoy watching me beat them.
In a direct fight, most of them had the strength to overpower me, but lacked the training and experience to use. I turned their blades aside rather than blocking directly, used fists and feet in duels, and threw my weapon when they wouldn’t enter the reach of my blade.
I ended up sparring for most of the day, until I was sore and accumulating bruises. I practiced cultivating [Scale The Mountain] as often as I could, pushing my progress forward, but it began the slow the more I accumulated.
[Is this what the Matriarch meant when she said the technique was incompatible with us?] Interface asked.
“If it is, we need to find another technique.” I whispered to Interface.
I was sore. Not just my muscles, but the invisible lines that the qi within my body travelled through seemed to ache.
I sat the side of the field, recovering. The captain looked at me pitifully.
“Will you be ready for more tomorrow?”
“Until I can’t stand, captain.” I replied. Captain was the only thing anyone called him — he was the commander of the guards of the entire clan, even across the different holdings they had in the city.
“Good.” The captain nodded admirably.
He dismissed me early. When dusk began to fall, I waited in my room, placing the [Heralding Dawn] technique manuscript in the square of light that fell through the window. It didn’t react to the light of sunset. I watched in disbelief, waiting.
“Looks like we’re going to have to make the most of the faint few minutes of dawn light in the morning.” I said.
[I’ve been reviewing the entry in the manuscript we’ve managed to uncover. It’s just two pages, but I have a bad feeling about this. It looks like the start of a completely different technique.]
“Good. Maybe it will be something that works better for us.” I replied. “Let’s find dinner.
At night, the front of the clan was cleared out. The courtyard full of giant rocks served a different purpose once the bonfire was lit, becoming an all out festival ground. Cooks brought out giant chunks of meat, filled pots with stew, and seasoned food. I sat at a rock near Nalaar. A half dozen children climbed around and over him.
“The new guard!” A server said, coming by and dropping steaming meat directly onto the rock, along with utensils. “I heard you kicked my cousins ass! Here’s a tip.”
The server dropped a dull red crystal into my hand. I blinked at it. Nalaar started eating.
“What is this?” I asked, but the server already walked away, pushing through the crowd. There were goat mens in all shapes and sizes.
Nalaar looked over, chewing open mouthed. His mouth were full of sharp teeth more fitting for sharks.
“Currency. Half a stone.” Nalaar said. “You could buy a meal with it. Or use it to try to cultivate faster, but theres so much qi in the Celestial Scar it’d be a waste. They’re ripped out of Celestials. Transported across the country to more qi barren areas. You can trade them at the Tower for goods and services. Most people save them to try to get better manuscripts, though.”
“Huh. I should check that out.” I replied.