Canvas Town, Tseludia Station, Pantheonic Territory, Fourthmonth, 1634 PTS
“I suppose I’m content with these results,” I said, looking down at the three victors of the tournament.
All three had fought their way through the bracket with great effort, and I found each to be suitable to learn my techniques. Unsurprisingly, these three were all disciples who I had kept my eyes on, each having their own skills and talents for combat. Gen Feng was born with naturally long limbs, and was very skilled at using his natural reach to his advantage. The second of them had insisted on being called Shadowblade, which I would wager was not the name his parents had given him. Despite his questionable taste in names, however, he was actually quite skilled with knives, and had clearly been practicing knife throwing for years. This matter was even more impressive given the fact that his hair was left untied, and often flipped in front of his eyes during battle. I imagined he might have been quite successful as a gangster had he not joined the sect. Finally, the third member was Han Yu, the otherwise unremarkable boy with an impressive combat sense. I had expected him to do well in the tournament, but was mildly surprised he had made it to the end.
I was pleasantly surprised that each of them would be suitable to learn formless techniques, and couldn’t help but think that Rachel might have done some match fixing to make that happen. It did help that we had taken out one of the semi finalists from the tournament. I glanced over to the side of the stage where Sashan Ji was standing.
She was a remarkably beautiful farsei girl in perfect physical condition. She clearly had a little experience fighting, but her spacial awareness and physique were both excellent, a matter which brought her to the cusp of the fourth round. While I wouldn’t say she was wholly unsuitable for the Downpour Sect’s techniques, I did not feel that she would be able to reach her full potential as a formless practitioner. As such, when there were seven disciples remaining at the end of the third round, I had taken her to the side and told her she would be receiving an opportunity.
I glanced back at the three victors.
“For now, join your martial brothers and sisters,” I said, and with excitement, the three disciples quickly made their way to the stage.
I quickly glanced around the room, not seeing the person I was looking for. I then turned to Rachel.
“Is he not here yet?” I asked.
“He should be here any moment. He was… in the middle of something when I contacted him.”
She had an odd smirk on her face as she said that, though I could not discern the reason for it. Putting the question off as I usually did, I frowned, wondering whether I should put this matter off for later and speak to my new personal disciples. But just as I began to turn back to them, the door to the training hall burst open, and a bedraggled Orion stepped in.
His face was reddened and flushed, his clothing rumpled and his hair mussed. It wasn’t difficult to guess what he had been doing before he received the summons from Rachel.
“He was with Ran,” laughed Rachel, leaning over to whisper it into my ear.
“What?” I asked incredulously. “She just got out of the hospital a couple days ago.”
Ran had been taken out of the hospital after just a day, while Cinto and Kein’s injuries were taking much longer to heal. Cinto was expected to return tomorrow, which was why I had decided to do this tournament today. After this, she would be able to take over the general training of all the disciples, as well as more particular training for the disciples who chose to become genesis practitioners.
Rachel shrugged.
“She’s a hardy woman, and she might have wanted some exercise to loosen her muscles a bit after she returned.”
I sighed.
“Their love life is none of my business, anyway.”
Orion quickly made his way towards me, delivering a polite bow.
“Greetings, Sect Leader, Vice-Sect Leader. For what purpose have you summoned me?”
He was speaking in a very formal manner, but his current appearance undermined any airs he might attempt to put on. Still, his dedication to just leave what he was doing to come when summoned was admirable, so I chose to leave it be.
Of course, all of the disciples, even the disconsolate disciples who had failed to succeed in the tournament were all staring at him, some with disgust. One of those who were giving him dark looks was Sashan Ji, which caused Rachel to crack up.
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“Palace Leader Orion, we have a task for you.”
I led him over to where Sashan Ji was standing. She had a conflicted expression on her face, like she had guessed what was happening and couldn’t tell whether to be excited for the opportunity or disgusted by Orion’s current state. I flashed a glare at Rachel, who was still holding back laughter. I raised a hand to point at Sashan.
“Orion, this is Sashan Ji. She’s a very talented disciple, and I believe that she might have a talent for manifest miasma.” He gave me a blank look, so I clarified the matter. “You’ll be taking her as a personal disciple.”
“I see,” he replied, drawing the word out as he took a look at Sashan. “Will there be any others I need to take care of?”
“Only if you wish to teach more of them. She’ll be the only personal disciple I assign you, but you can take any more if you so wish. You can take the first pick of the rest, if you want. Or Rachel can give some suggestions.”
He nodded, considering the matter.
“I’ll take you up on that. Vice-Sect Leader, can we speak?”
Rachel nodded, and the two began to converse as Orion tried to find some other talents. It was no surprise to me that he had reacted in such a way. Orion had struck me as a very ambitious man, and in a sect, there were few ways more effective to build a strong and loyal personal force than to train them up from the start. To an extent, that was my plan for my own disciples. I turned back to Sashan to give her parting words. She was talented, and I wished to help her headspace to ensure she had as successful a start to her true journey from this point on.
“I took you out from the tournament not because I found you unfit to be my disciple, but because I believed this path would allow you to achieve more of your potential. I hope you will not let myself or your new master down.”
Sashan bowed.
“Thank you, Sect Leader.”
With a nod, I bid farewell to her and returned to the stage, where my anxious soon-to-be disciples had been left waiting.
“Meet me in the meditation room at dawn,” I said.
They bowed in unison.
“Yes, Master.”
Cinto really had trained them well, I thought. Or perhaps it was simply their exposure to the culture of sects through media they saw growing up. I gave them a nod and then turned back to the milling disciples who were still on the floor of the training room. Orion was still talking with Rachel, and had yet to pick his second disciple. He was looking through some of the footage, judging by what looked to be a floating screen in front of the two of them.
“Rachel,” I said, speaking in a normal voice, although she was far enough away I would normally be expected to call out.
Rather than respond with a whisper in my ear, another illusionary copy of herself formed right beside me. I glanced back to where I had just seen her with Orion, immediately realizing that she was still deep in conversation with him. I still found it slightly difficult to get my head around how easily she was capable of doing that.
“What is it?” she asked.
“You’ll be able to handle training them in flickering arts, right?”
Rachel gave me an exasperated sigh.
“I already told you I’ve fully recovered. Regardless, I’ve looked through enough Celan databases to have a far stronger understanding of flickering miasma than any martial artist you could find on this station.”
“I hope you can understand why I might be slightly concerned,” I said.
She shrugged.
“I can use assistants to handle the experience issue.”
I supposed if she was confident it would be fine. She was generally very competent, and I wasn’t quite sure how many of the disciples would wish to learn flickering arts in the first place.
Within the next few minutes I watched approvingly as Orion chose five more disciples of his own. This left over forty disciples remaining, so I stood up in front of the stage to address them as the disciples who had been chosen filed out to speak with their new master.
“All of you,” I called out, were deemed ready to reach the next stage. While you may have missed the opportunity to become an elder’s personal disciple, there will be future opportunities of similar import. What happens now will depend on the results of your own efforts and talents. It is your duty to work hard for the sect, but it is your own ambition which grants you opportunities to walk further down the path you will choose today. Tonight you may eat a real meal and rest, and in the morning you will be given the opportunity to choose which arts you wish to practice. There are no wrong choices, so I would recommend trying to pick which best suits you. If you are unsure, you may look at a document that the Vice-Sect Leader has prepared. It lists where we believe your talents may lie, though of course you may also feel free to prove us wrong.” I took a step back, nodding towards all of the disciples. “I am proud to be your sect leader, and look forward to seeing the choices each of you makes.”
I couldn’t help but copy the tone my former sect leader had used back home. That was exactly the sort of speech he would have given. I quietly made my way out of the room, heading towards the sect’s offices. I had more work to do, particularly in preparation to begin teaching my techniques. I wished to look in greater detail on the records of my six students.
Martial Titles: [An ancient custom, giving skilled martial artists titles to emphasize their unique qualities has been practiced on the Sunlit and Crucible continents for millennia. These titles have historically been granted by others, and usually out of respect, but have also been used to mock and deride someone for a very public failure or mistake. Some even try to give themselves powerful-sounding titles in an attempt to start their own martial legend, a practice which generally has mixed results. The practice of granting martial titles has yet to cease, particularly because news companies will sometimes assign them to martial artists the moment they achieve something notable. In sufficiently rural or isolated areas, the requirements tend to be lower than in a place such as the largest cities on Canvas.]