Chapter 1 Prologue: Entering the Sect
Y'know. Conscious reincarnation isn't that bad.
I mean, sure, having to go through infanthood with a fully functional mind isn't great. And the culture shock is very real when you go from a post-industrial society to a rural farming community that has to haggle for verified news.
But other than wondering what the hell killed me and hoping everyone I knew was either spared completely or died painlessly like I must have, it was a simple, peaceful life. I didn't have any high goals or hidden powers, so I just enjoyed learning about the world around me. Everything I could, including the existence of cultivators.
How's that for a laugh? I reincarnate as a peasant boy in a world where bickering with heaven actually gives power, as me.
Naturally I took to talking with 'heaven'. Not in any fancy 'hidden cultivator' manner. Just holding half of a conversation with the idea of a sapient world as I puzzled out the behavior of bugs and critters. I didn't grow up under tons of stress here, so I had no particular reason to try telling 'heaven' it was wrong about anything and I had no idea what kind of meditation to start hearing it would get me anywhere.
And being peasant born, what energy I could gather and use to bolster my body was paltry and not worth hoping for a hidden talent with.
I'd need access to the teachings of the cultivators if I wanted to become one, but I knew even better than most of the adults that even being near one was suicidal. Face was a topic that came up fairly often, and that boded poorly for anyone having to stroke a demigod's fragile ego.
But of course, life couldn't just be civilized and leave me to my paltry studies.
Nope. I was 8 when a bunch of cultivators waltzed into town and "politely" told my parents that I was going with them. I managed to avoid offending them much while asking if it would be possible for my parents to be compensated for the loss of my aide on the farm. I got four lashes for my trouble, but one of the gruffer cultivators - Hing Malaping - chose to indulge my request with a spare low-quality fanged boar corpse.
Thus was I recruited into the Yellow Fang cultsect.
---
Life in the sect was predictably rough. I, along with twenty or so other youths from ages 5-10, hadn't been recruited to be trained as cultivators. Not right off, anyway.
Instead we were added to the ranks of the menial servants and set to tasks that were technically within our power to perform.
The younger kids suffered most as their tasks weren't any less taxing than the rest of ours despite their lower stamina. Most of us were beaten frequently for letting things like 'mortal frailty' and 'exhaustion' affect our work. I wound up sharing some of my prior life's meditations with my fellow servants just to give them a chance.
After all, working for a cultivator sect has all the hard manual labor of rural life set to the manic 'work is life' pace of my old world. Not something that people 'just get used to' without the -Very Present- threat of death.
Fortunately, there were perks to be had. A nightmare to attain, but still.
For every week that we accomplished all of our tasks without incident, we were awarded a single contribution point, the internal currency of the sect. Things like mortal-tier healing balms and completely mundane foodstuffs were available to us at the exchange office for 1-15 points. But the obvious prize to be had for toeing the line and dutiful service to the sect was a primer on the basics of cultivation for 100 points.
Upon learning this, I noticed everyone else writing it off as a fanciful dream to ever attain that many points. Which I gathered was the first of many filters for joining the sect properly. After all, a mortal who thinks that 2 years of hard labor is too long to dedicate to a goal would make a poor cultivator.
Naturally, I decided to do it anyway because nobody kidnaps me, enslaves me, and dangles ultimate power in front of me without consequences. That's just not who I am.
But being a clever little shit, I didn't announce my plan. Instead, I asked a few of my fellow servants about what made it a fool's dream, because being 8, going on 9 allows one to admit to ignorance a lot easier than being 30.
And thus I discovered the second major filter: Jackasses playing crab-bucket.
Some of the senior servants, salty about their lot, would track how often someone received contribution points, whether by dutiful work or by lucking out and finding something worth turning in for a couple, and if it looked like the person was hoarding them for the primer, the bullies would just beat the shit out of them and take their points to waste on booze.
Organic. Senseless. Entirely human.
Hiding the tokens representing the points was also doomed, according to several who'd tried, on account of just about everyone having tried and knowing where all the good hiding places were.
In fact, according to everyone I chatted with over work and after hours, the only real way to have a chance at actually attaining a primer was to catch the eye of a cultivator and hope they had higher standards for their personal servants. An option that stank of pill furnace traps to me, so I politely ignored the advice to try looking adorable when a female cultivator was around.
The last interesting point of information I gathered was to ask the exchange clerk if there was any rule against sharing the primer with fellow servants. He laughed at my audacity for asking before informing me that sharing was discouraged because mortals without the fortitude to get one for themselves usually wound up crippling themselves by half-assing the meditations.
I'm pretty sure he saw right through my reason for asking when I confirmed that it was just crippling, not killing themselves.
After all, killing a fellow servant was punishable by death unless the taskmaster the case was brought to bought the 'self defense' or 'accident' argument, at which point it would just be a crippling lashing. But incapacitating them, even crippling them entirely so the taskmaster had to kill them for being worthless, was completely permitted. For reasons that eluded me at the time.
With that, I decided that my best path forward would be to become everybody's buddy. I started with my immediate peers. The ones I'd taught my coping meditations to. One at a time, six points apart, I invited them to join me for after-work dinner.
Nothing terribly fancy, just 3 points of good meat and 2 of booze to enjoy together and commiserate our lot in being noticed by our 'recruiters'.
Most of them mentioned the longing to acquire the primer and ascend through the heavens, which I encouraged heartily. I even promised to catch up to them some day if they made it just to share another meal with them.
Then, as each of them got mugged for going directly for the primer, I had another meal with them to raise their spirits and workshop ways of handling the bullies. Then I started having the same meal with two of them at a time, filling in my visible purchases with salves and teas to help them recover while staying off the first level radar.
Not that I went unbullied. I was accosted and knocked around by some jackass who figured I must be trying to hide my hoard by getting points from the others during the meals.
When I thanked him for the idea, I think I bluescreened him. Then I invited him to join me for dinner to discuss the idea more, which caused his greedy little eyes to gleam.
Unfortunately for him, I was more in control of my alcohol intake than he was, and a big rock beats any sized head. Or limb, in this case.
So when he failed to report for duty in the morning and I informed the taskmaster that I'd heard his screams after he left my place, I was saddled with looks of terror from just about everyone as his still-whimpering body was dragged to the medic to see if he could recover.
I don't think I convinced the taskmaster, but I did my best "I don't know who did it. Most of my friends were also mugged by him, and he waseating the food that I was going to share with them."
And just like that, each of my friends realized that we could totally team up against the bullies as long as we obeyed the rules. Which meant that I was no longer the only proper psychopath among the servants.
Kids these days. So impressionable.
Alibis became hot commodities, and everyone travelled in groups, even the bullies who had very clearly never had actual cultivator potential turned on them. Five years of dutiful work later I was turning 17 and turning in 100 points for a primer with a polite smile to the clerk who had become fond of me after assuming that I was behind the broken knees and elbows that kept things otherwise civil.
I wasn't the first of the group to get there, on account of maintaining my meal plan and continuing to befriend most of the servants. Connections would be good, and having people ahead of me to map out the traps would be even better.
The primer itself was rather sparse of reasons for things working, instead being a super simple 'how to arrange your chi into a foundation' series of meditations and a basic cultivation meditation to start empowering said foundation.
Being me, I took months more time than I needed to follow the instructions because I wanted to turn my attention to the aspects of my chi that the instructions referenced and to ensure that there were no obvious traps from establishing a poor foundation. I didn't find anything that looked deliberately wrong, but I did figure out how several of the 'dantians' and 'meridians' would grow to eventually carry my will in defiance of heaven, and tidied up the sloppy formation advice in the margins.
Cultivation itself was a surreal experience as I had to take in energy from my surroundings (ki), mix it with my own stamina(chi) in just such a way that it wouldn't dissipate, and then layer my will into it so that I could move it in ways that my intrinsic energies would resist as well. All while it was rushing through the foundation I'd built along with the entirety of the ki that I'd already gathered.
As soon as I had the foundation laid out and had a month of cultivation built upon it, the taskmaster sent me along to join the sect proper.
Chapter 2 Settling In
"Guang Jinsheng, reporting for duty." I announced to the administrator who'd taken several minutes to acknowledge my arrival.
"Ah, I was told you'd be getting promoted soon." she smiled easily. "Brother Gao Li will be happy to hear that you didn't get yourself killed."
I held my bow politely as she spoke. I may be on the ladder, but I'm literally at the bottom rung, so defaulting to being dutiful and polite was still my best course of action.
"Clever too." she added after a moment. "I think you'll do well here. Stand up, let's get you settled in."
I stood and followed as she started walking. "So, my name is Fan Ju, your martial sister and senior. Respect me as such and you might have a pleasant time settling in."
"Understood, senior Fan." I answered easily. Being polite was my entire thing in structured society.
"Good. Now that you're a disciple of the sect, you have some privileges. First among them, you get a hut in the ki-heavy hills of the outer sect. That'll make it much easier to make progress than that dingy mortal shack you've been struggling in."
Struggling? Oh dear, I may have built my own maguffin.
"Next, the real goods of the sect are available to you at the exchange office. Pills, spirit stones, manuals, ingredients, the works. Don't expect to afford anything good any time soon, but it's stuff worth working for, not that trash we give to mortals."
Noted. Fan Ju is not a cheap dinner partner. If one at all.
"Third, you'll get an allotment of points every month based on the work you do. Sit around cultivating all day and you'll only get 5 at your level. Chores that seniors need done and don't trust mortals for will earn you more, as will turning in materials that you gather or create. Well, that's if you can make anything useful. Don't try wasting old Go's time with mortal trinkets."
"Hm." I bothered to vocalize. It served as an acknowledgement and an indication that I had further questions without overstepping my place.
One that she noticed, smirked, and continued right on talking through.
"Last, twice per month you can challenge any disciple of your cultivation rank or higher to a spar. You'll get your ass folded like laundry to start off, but it's a great way to learn how others fight and to start developing your own style. Winner gets a cut of the loser's allotment, so if you want the results of your hard work, you'd better win at least a few of your fights."
Ah, that's why payment for things were held off. They want to discourage us from focusing in noncombat disciplines by holding our pay hostage. Draconian, but comprehensible.
"Of course, this all comes with added responsibility. Foremost, you will obey any command issued by a sect elder without hesitation if you like your skin. Second, you will avoid embarrassing yourself and the sect. That means no getting caught scamming the mortals, no offending other sects' disciples without cause, and no showing weakness to anyone. If you can't handle that, you're expected to have the good sense to stay within sect grounds until you've got the fortitude. Understand?"
"With only one pertinent query, yes."
She smirked in surprise at the sudden audacity. "Ask."
"Regarding other sects' disciples. What is the strength of their typical belligerent?"
It was a treat to see her face brighten at the question. I guess most people don't do recon this early.
"They typically start picking fights starting at the Qi Condensation Third Rank, so while you're weaker than that, stay here. I'd say the strongest ones that still pick fights are around Soul Core Sixth Rank. After that I've only seen them act on personal grudges."
"Thank you for the clarity, senior Fan. What compensation would you like for the valuable auxiliary information?"
A wicked grin split her face. "I'm going to like working with you, brother Guang. I typically charge 10 points for accurate hearsay, but I'm willing to drop your fee to 5 because it's your first day as a disciple."
Nothing quite like highway robbery to make me feel at home. The info was probably free for the asking elsewhere.
"I appreciate the consideration, senior Fan. But to devalue information that helps me maintain the dignity of the sect would leave a poor taste in my mouth, so please, accept the full price." I replied earnestly as I pulled ten tokens out of my pouch.
To her credit, she balked at my apparent gullibility for a full third of a second before graciously accepting my reasoning. From then on, her explanation of the duties and opportunities presented by them was far more detailed, and I politely followed her lead on not mentioning it. She even followed up on my earlier interest in the exchanges and the difficulty in learning to create something worth exchanging for points.
Pills were far and away the most popular item, but the requirements to learn from the sect alchemists were stringent and required years of study to even be considered, so that was set aside. Herbs were reasonably easy to grow, given an understanding of tending to ki-receptive plants, and were often in predictable demand, so I decided to put my farm life to work with some of the space I had to work with.
Weapon and armor crafting was something that held some esteem and was easier to break into than alchemy, but the mundane equipment wouldn't fetch much and I'd have to produce quite a bit of it to be trusted with the good materials. I decided to put in the work to learn, of course. I wouldn't be me without a crafting fascination.
But the non-combat art that I chose to pursue most fervently was Calligraphy. Specifically, senior Fan mentioned that a well-practiced calligrapher could imbue teachings and understanding directly into their work, and other cultivators could feel the 'intent' and learn from it.
If there's one thing that defines my soul more than the violence and the demented need to push boundaries, it's being able to understand and convey things. So picking up the art of teaching by ink resonated with me on a level usually reserved for crippling people.
---
Things went quietly for all of a week. Which, y'know, is still really impressive.
Then a senior brother by the name of Hu Kong accosted me as I was leaving the first available lecture on the basics of calligraphy.
His taunt opened with a fake congeniality and "You do know that to imbue an intent you have to have a profound understanding of the matter, right?"
"I have been informed of the difficulty on this path, but I do thank you for confirming as much. Caring seniors like yourself make missteps far more rare." I answered, as humbly as I could. He was a known bully just judging by the gaggle of others behind him, and the compliment confused them all for a moment before they laughed, realizing that I take the sect as more valuable than my own power.
"I'm glad that junior Guang sees my intention clearly!" he pulled an obvious line of bullshit. "Might I ask what intent you plan on starting with? I might have some pointers for comprehending it."
"Certainly, senior Hu. For the immediate I will be focusing on becoming adept at the art itself so that my body has a foundation for me to work from, of course, but I suspect that I'll start practicing the intent with something like 'Farming' or 'Meal', as those are subjects that I can claim to know a little about."
"Good thinking, starting with what you know!" he clapped my shoulder. "But I'm afraid that those won't be of much value at the exchange office. We of the Yellow Fang value combat intent far more, on account of the beasts and our rival sects. So what scroll do you think you'll be exchanging for first?"
"Ah, thank you for the advice before I wasted senior Go's time!" I played up the earnest junior trope for all it was worth. "Most of my existing combat understanding is of trapping and fleeing. Does senior have a suggestion on how I might develop an appropriate understanding?"
Seeing the openly malicious smirks on all of their faces made me wonder if there wasn't more of a need for 'Bluff' or 'Acting' tutorials.
"I do indeed! You see, the month is almost up, so my friends and I have already used our challenges for the month. But you've still got both of yours. So if you'd like some friendly pointers, you can challenge us to a spar to help develop your understanding of combat."
"Ah, and the contribution points you'd be awarded for defeating me would serve as a payment for your generosity. Brother Hu is certainly wise. If it would be no trouble to delay, I should like to drop my equipment off at my hut before you leave me too sore to carry it."
"That's no trouble at all!" he answered after a flash of irritation crossed his face. "We'll be waiting here for another while yet."
I bowed in gratitude -more to the sect rules on plundering than the idiots obeying them- and dashed off to leave my calligraphy kit safely in my hut. I didn't have much worth plundering, but a freshly stocked kit was liable to have a decent resell value.
On my way back to Hu's ambush, because experience is valuable even if it's agonizing, one of my former servant friends caught up to me panting "Don't. He'll just break your bones for fun."
"Ah, brother Kesa! I know." I clapped him on the shoulder. "But better to greet it with dignity than wait until he can challenge me, right?"
"What?"
"Come now, you figured out how I'm responsible for us getting here, right? Having my bones broken is just another uncomfortable step along the path."
His face lit up in realization that I was actually the rock monster and that I was done hiding that approach.
"Just do me a favor, will you?" I asked with a grin.
"Sure, what?"
"Carry me back if I pass out. I don't actually have a plan here."
"What!?"
"He's Rank 8. I don't have any reason to expect that I can out trick him."
"You're going to try, right?"
"Well, yeah. It's a spar to learn from. Trying tricks is the entire point."
He just blinked at me like he was just realizing that I'm crazy. Better late than never I guess.
Returning to Hu, I waved to him and cheered "Good news! I found an old friend willing to help me back to my hut, so I can risk both challenges today!"
The moment of shock from everyone was wonderful, but not as nice as Hu's face when he realized that I had to be able to stand to offer the second challenge, so he couldn't just cripple me outright.
Not that he didn't make me regret cheating him of the bullying he wanted to do. Under the guise of teaching me about different approaches that could be used for a simple punch, he pummeled me until I couldn't stand back up.
Then, after a breather, I followed through on my promise and offered my second challenge to one of his croneys that didn't put on any pretense of trying to teach me beyond saying that he would help me understand 'Pain'.
When I woke up, Kesa informed me that I'd gotten a few solid hits in, myself and that the Rank 6 croney took it personally that my reflexes could touch him despite being a Rank 1 in the Body Reinforcement tier.
Which handily explained my broken legs. Apparently the guy would have gone for my arms too, but a senior instructor 'happened' to walk by and he didn't feel like risking retribution for continuing to attack with me being unconscious.
The rules may have created a cripple-happy hellscape, but they did a decent job of keeping the worst at bay. And we had medics too. For a small fee of 100 points, to be paid from my dispensations, I had a wonderfully gruff senior brother come along and make sure my legs were set properly and that I knew what not to do to aggravate them.
The charge even included him coming back every week until I was cleared to walk again, which was far more than I expected to receive, but it did reveal why cripplings were so broadly encouraged.
The Yellow Fang Sect wanted trained surgeons and healers, and the rest of us were training material.
An ass-backwards way of going about it, but one that probably made sense with the larger scale politics I hadn't finished learning about yet. After all, I wasn't strong enough to risk visiting my folks yet, so I had time to map the sect politics before the inter-sect politics.
The surgeon confirmed as much when I asked during his last visit, with the added point that the Sect Master had realized the value of healers in a war some 300 years ago and had been hiding that he was training them up so that none of the rival sects would find it suspicious. When I asked about qualifications, he chuckled and said I would know if I met them.
From then on, it was a fairly peaceful couple of years. I got back into meal sharing almost as soon as my herbs matured. I had a noteworthy green thumb if my abrupt paying off of the medical bill was anything to go by. I was able to get the hang of imbuing intent into my work by cross-referencing the teachings of Calligraphy and Smithing, to the mild surprise of a few of the instructors. And I chose to only challenge within two ranks of myself to avoid getting my ass folded so hard.
Because as much as I learned from the experience, gotta say, still not a fan.
Chapter 3 Tea and Herbs
"I must say, little Guang, you have a clever method to yourself." Elder Tong spoke as I poured the tea. "To hear the rumors, you're the most devoted outer disciple the sect has."
I smiled at the jab. The art of politicking was so strange here. "I'm sure the rumors see me favorably more for my meal habit than any particular devotion. I am only doing my filial duty, after all."
"Hm. That is likely enough, I suppose. Rare is the man who doesn't hold a fondness for a nice meal." he smiled easily.
He still hadn't mentioned why he, an Elder of the sect, had deigned to visit my humble shack beyond having heard that I grew some respectable tea for a near-mortal. Other than inviting me to treat him like any other guest, cueing me that I wasn't immediately in trouble.
I sat opposite him and we spent a few moments savoring the tea. I was quite fond of it, hence why I grew it, so it was almost easy to relax in spite of the demigod in front of me.
Almost.
"This tea is quite well prepared, little Guang." he gave a mostly straight compliment. "If you were to pursue the courtly arts I suspect you'd become quite respectable at them."
"I thank you for the confidence, Elder. I do try to avoid sullying the face of those associated with me, despite my meager aptitudes."
"I hear you've taken to calligraphy as well. May I ask for a demonstration?"
"Of course, dear Elder. Though I must confess I have decidedly more passion than talent." I answered as I rose to extract my kit. "Would you like a particular word, or whichever thought comes to me?"
"Oh, whatever you'd like to write is fine."
I nodded understanding and set to mixing my ink. I hadn't lied about my passion outstripping my talent, but I also hadn't mentioned that my talent and skill could likely never surpass the joy of mixing powder into ink and creating a dollop of shared understanding with it. Every little motion, tedious at first but refined through obsessive practice, was in a way an act of creation, of tasting the divinity of heaven and letting a sliver of its beauty, however dimmed, shine into the world.
I watched the last drop of ink fall from my brush and splash into the scroll as my attention returned to the common world and the fact that in my clear minded trance, I'd written the word 'tea'.
I waved a small fan over the word to speed the dryness and presented the scroll to the congenial Elder, whose face lit up in amusement and something I didn't parse as he accepted it.
"I see how you mean that your passion eclipses your skill!" he laughed. "Should your skill ever match that passion, I fear our enemies will fall to scrolls instead of fists."
I blinked at the completely genuine compliment. "Is there such an art as to let scrolls hold a place in battle, Elder?"
"I do not know of one that works directly as the scroll, but there are several arts that use scrolls as a medium. You may wish to start with the art of talismans when you can afford the manual for it."
Holy shit, actual council from an Elder. My torso was parallel to the ground before my awe was fully formed. "Disciple humbly thanks Elder Tong for his gracious advice!" I uttered with more sincerity than I'd felt since being recruited.
"It was merely a passing thought, though I am glad it appeals to you. My friend Elder Raka has been bereft of apprentices for the art for far too long. If you develop the basics and succeed in becoming an Inner Disciple, he may finally choose to take one on."
"Even the thought of the opportunity is an honor. Disciple will train dutifully."
"Good! I look forward to seeing your progress. Especially if your tea improves apace." He stood, gathering up the scroll I'd gifted to him, and stepped to the door before smiling and departing with a simple "Good luck in your spars."
I sat back down, positively giddy from the interaction, and reviewed his words carefully to see if there was any more wisdom to be gleaned from the talk. Insight had always hidden in the strangest places, after all.
Then, several minutes later, a simple thought surfaced. One borne of my prior life and its difficulties.
'Why would I feel honored by him telling me that my plan is solid?'
Because I already had my eye on the Talisman arts. My plan included a few more practical body arts to lower my loss rate in the constant spars before saving up for it and a primer on material refinement.
But I very distinctly felt an abnormal -to me- gratitude for his stray thought. That he admitted held ulterior motive, albeit one that supposedly benefits me more than anyone else in the equation-
Oh. Well shit.
I added a manual for a mental defense art to my priority list and made a note to catch more rumors about Tong and Raka.
---
You know how sometimes people are subtle about getting in your way, and sometimes they aren't? I don't really mind either of those.
But when they think they're being subtle by, say, helping multiple fellow disciples of my rank develop techniques to wear me down with daily challenges? That bugs me.
I mean, increasing the sect's strength is a plus until I can flee, so I don't object to it, but ever since I reached Body Reinforcement Rank 5, Hu's croney has been determined to learn everything he can about my fighting style after his gaggle of morons realized that I'm not just scarfing down spirit stones to cultivate. And they think they aren't being obvious about sharing their old manuals with anyone willing to fight me. It's just disappointing.
Especially when I've been punching up literally since week two. Not always, or even particularly often, winning, but every one of my spar challenges has been to someone at least one rank higher than me. The fact that my herbs and scrolls make beating me give a nice profit means that almost nobody begrudges my methods and that I've always received plenty of challenges, but daily is a bit much.
The rumors are funny though. I've overheard everything from my being supported by a secret master seeking to infiltrate and destroy the sect to my being the Sect Master's secret bastard son. The idea that I was just naturally good at cultivating had been brought up, but apparently that didn't cover my breadth of aptitude in most folks' eyes.
I'd bothered to try explaining that violence is so intrinsic to my soul that getting in fights several times a month was relaxing, but that fell on deaf ears for the most part. Something about no demonic qi in my techniques.
The truth about my accelerated growth, as far as I could tell, was just that I didn't pick fights with the heavenly dao. Sure, I defied its decree that I was but a mortal man to tend the land simply by cultivating. But I still tended the land, nurtured my plants and peers, and took time to enjoy the world around me.
Much as I'd thought in my youth, Heaven wasn't wrong or jerkish in its decrees. I just disputed a handful of them in as civil a fashion as I could. Like the mortality thing.
As a result, I had a much easier time interfacing with the world's ki and molding it into qi. I'd compared my methods to several of my dinner partners, and the difference was glaring to my eye, but almost invisible to theirs.
The fact that I also hijacked my 'farmer' role as a method of cultivation, pulling ki through my herbs as they grew, stimulating their receptivity and fuelling my growth simultaneously was something that baffled most of my peers with its net-positive effect compared to their method of pulling ki out of their herbs when they tried.
Ultimately though, it wasn't my problem if people couldn't understand my methods. Normal cultivators hid their techniques from view so that nobody could copy them. Mine being incomprehensible in plain sight was just a skill issue on their part.
"Brother Guang!" rang out from the gate to my garden, distracting me from my introspection. Martial brother Kesa was waving me over, so I strolled over with a casual greeting.
"I hear you volunteered to assist on a beast patrol!" he practically bounced in excitement. "Did they accept you?"
"They did." I chuckled. "I'll mostly be cleaning the beasts and carrying camp equipment, but after my showing against senior Tun the squad head decided I wouldn't be too much of a hindrance." Tun had taken offense that I'd dare to volunteer when I was two ranks below him and he'd been turned down, so I offered a challenge so he could teach me my mistake. I'd managed to eke out a win with a lucky moment of disorientation as the sun glinted off a bit of armor behind me into his eyes allowing me to gut check him and let a medic practice on a bruised liver.
Last I'd heard, Tun was taking my acceptance into the patrol surprisingly well.
"That's awesome big bro! Please tell me you actually have a plan with this."
"Of course I do!" I recoiled in faux offense. "It's a rather boring plan though. I just want a look at how beasts fight and are fought. I've got the feeling that I'm missing something crucial in my understanding of fighting for survival and I suspect I can glean it from wild beasts fighting to survive."
"Really? Just more understanding cultivation?"
"It's what I do. If I get a cut of the exchange points, that's a nice benefit too."
"Not going to try setting up a sales racket or something?"
"And invite ire? That's a ridiculous idea. The voluntary sales are more than enough for me."
"See, this is what I don't get. How the hell do you cultivate while being satisfied with things?"
"Simple. I'm not satisfied with my cultivation. Everything else is superfluous."
"But you don't value spirit stones."
"Aids are superfluous." I shrugged. "I'd much rather develop the ability to grow without depending on them than rush things and risk finances having a hold over me."
"And you don't dream of finding a great inheritance."
"The one who left the inheritance walked his own path. Why shouldn't I walk mine?"
"And I've seen you scoff at treasures."
"Only the poorly used ones. I'm quite fond of some of the weapons I've seen."
"That! That right there!" he jabbed an irritated finger into the fence. "Treasures so valuable I can only dream of holding them, and you're 'fond of' them! What is so different inside your head that you can talk of things that might as well be legends as though they're on the same level as our group calligraphy night paintings?"
I searched his face for a moment and saw true frustration with my flippancy and prowess. A reasonable frustration, given that I'd completely eclipsed him despite his head start.
I flicked the latch of the gate open and waved him in. "Come, let me show you part of it."
I led him, suddenly eagerfaced, to where I left off watering my herbs and sat down, gesturing him to sit as well.
"This is a completely standard Yellow Spring herb." I gestured his attention to the plant. "I'm told the alchemists use its leaves as an aide to capture impurities in their work so that the pills themselves are formed of the purer essences of the other ingredients. From one perspective, this plant that I've taken time and effort to grow is doomed to a short life of exploitation and suffering as its properties are twisted to serve the purpose of an entity that it couldn't properly comprehend if it had a mind. From another, it's entire existence is dedicated to earning me a single contribution point and what happens after is immaterial."
I smiled at the look of surprise on Kesa's face that something as mundane as a plant's fate could sound important.
"But I don't like either of those views. They're limiting, awful. Poisonous. Instead, when I consider the fate of this plant, I look to the use it will be put to. It will help in the creation of a pill. That pill, then, will carry in it a piece of this plant when it is consumed. Not a material piece, but a sliver of the effort I pour into the growth of the plant. And that pill? Why, that pill might be the cure for a brother's poisoned wound. Or a healing for a sister's ruptured lung. Possibly even something that aids one of the Elders. And then that sliver of my effort lies within them, helping them in their duties and their path to the greatness that they and the sect can reach.
"So I tend to this plant dutifully. Not for the contribution point, but for the contribution itself. In the same manner, I tend to myself without concern for my immediate conditions or results, but with my eye turned forward. For if one of my plants could conceivably lend my diligence to even the Sect Master, how much further can my diligence travel within myself?"
Kesa stared at me with awe. "So you cultivate so easily and don't look at treasures because you keep your eye on a future where you surpass everything?"
"Indeed. Only one eye though. The other watches for traps that would cut my journey short like a caterpillar would cut the path of my herbs short."
Even though he was already sitting, there was the distinct feeling of him sitting down with force as he started to meditate on the perspective I'd shared. Then I whacked him upside the head.
"Out of the garden for cultivation. You still drain my plants."
He grinned sheepishly as he rubbed his head and ran to the gate and had the presence of mind to latch it before sitting and cultivating right in front of it.
I shook my head with a chuckle and returned to watering the plants and 'discussing' my life. I still couldn't 'hear' Heaven's part of the discussion, but I'd tested several tiny adjustments to my cultivation routine, and talking to/at Heaven like we were buddies actually correlated to increased efficiency. Whether because there was a causal link or because it settled my mind, I wasn't sure. But when 'the things that happen' was the best lead I had on what Heaven's reply was, I trusted my data.
Chapter 4 Snakes and Serpents
Demon beasts aren't actually demonic. Not in an Earth-western sense, at least.
They're actually just cultivators. After a fashion.
See, like any other strand of evolution, sometimes the variety of life gives rise to individual creatures capable of taking in a type of ki and making use of it. The edge this gives results in better breeding chances and offspring more likely to have that particular ability. The rate is much lower than with genetics as far as I can tell, so most of a given pack of whatever is largely normal animals.
But if one of the 'lucky' creatures stumbles upon an area rich in their attuned ki, they tend to stick around for the benefit it gives them. And if there's enough of it, they start to mutate. Usually getting bigger and more aggressive. They also quickly step beyond the ability of mortals to handle, as ki-saturated hide laughs off most mere physics.
The warped beast isn't demonic yet, because it's still working with ki and chi. The two haven't blended yet. But when they do, well.
Yellow Fang cultivators have to form a foundation in our spirits to constrain our Qi. To give it a boundary to flow within so that we have time to knead our will into it. Otherwise, the Qi would fight and likely overpower our Chi, sending us into a pained rage until we're put down or manage to cope with everything that made us usbeing replaced with our affront against Heaven and Nature.
Usually by taking the newfound power and destroying everything until we're put down.
Which is what demon beasts do.
Supposedly some of them chill out after a while, settling down and claiming expanses of land to tell everyone to fuck off from, but that's not terribly relevant right now.
Because I was part of a subjugation squad sent out to the Sandvine Marsh in order to cull the warped boa population to avoid having an incident where one managed to ascend. And we were late.
Well, we arrived as scheduled and the main squad wasted no time in performing their duties, so it's less that we were late and this giant fucking snake didn't have the courtesy to wait for us.
It's angry, it knows we're here, and it's powerful enough that it cracked a thick tree to bring brother Yu down to its level when he was peppering it with arrows. He's fine. So far everyone's fine. But holy fuck is that a big snake and it's radiating desire to eat me. Us.
Okay snake data. High sensory qualities largely attached to tongue, nose, eyes. Boa, a constrictor type. Might not care about that at this size and speed. Scales are thinner at the face.
Qi data. Brother Sung called it a Silt Strangler. Probably uses silt qi, which I don't know anything about. Assumptions. Similarities to water qi but with more stealth and abrasive qualities.
Best course of action. Hide while seniors handle it. They're literally trained for this and I'll probably just get in the way.
Secondary plan, I have seasonings that lean spicy. If it comes for me despite seniors' efforts, I throw them up its nose and pray.
Tertiary plan. Running. If everything goes wrong, run away. Survival 101. Reserved for snake being distracted and/or seniors instructing me to or falling.
Holy fuck that's a big snake.
I kept my profile low and my hand on my spiciest seasoning jar as I peeked out to watch my senior brothers' battle.
Sung Shu with his feathered spear was holding the beast's attention, having stabbed it several times when it turned to the others. Yu Jung had found another vantage point to rain down arrows. Li Ku, Eit Kai, and Po No were more mobile, punishing the serpent's movements whenever it failed to maintain its guard.
The sheer professionalism from my fellow disciples awed me almost as much as their prowess. I was a principled man. I wouldn't have been able to force myself to toe the line of the sect if I wasn't. But this learned trust in each other that they demonstrated was something beyond my current self.
For brother Sung to take such an immobile stance against a beast who was shoving the very soil of the marsh around was nigh suicidal. But he held it because he trusted the short sword wielders to prevent a wide lashing motion that would end him.
Brother Yu knew he was completely outclassed, but instead of retreating, even after having his first perch destroyed, he dutifully pelted the snake's face with arrows, keeping it too pestered to focus on formulating a new response.
The swordsman trio must have known that a single lapse from Sung and Yu would result in a feint and a brutal riposte from the snake, but they continued to strike every opening they saw, confident that the snake couldn't focus with their peers holding its attention.
The battle took most of an hour, with my martial brothers holding the advantage the entire time, before the snake had finally been weakened enough for brother Sung to spear its brain and finally kill it. Even then, they didn't relax their stances until the great snake finally stopped twitching.
"Sister Hua! How many have we lost!" Sung called out as the others slumped in exhaustion.
Senior Hua led the rest of the junior squad back into the area before answering "I found four bodies, and junior Guang is unaccounted for."
"Junior offers his deepest apologies!" I called out as I rose from my hiding spot. "I panicked and ducked behind this tree and did not see the retreat signal. Once I had a wit back, I thought it wiser to remain still than to flee blindly."
All six seniors stared at me as I bowed from just outside the carnage zone. Yu was the first to speak as my fellow juniors snickered at my misstep. "Brother Guang, what is that pouch you're holding?"
"My second thought was that, should the serpent turn on me for my blunder, I might have a chance of fleeing if I threw my ginger root powder into its nose, so I had it at the ready while I hid."
"Come here, brother Guang." Senior Sung ordered me. I obeyed, naturally. I had genuinely fucked up by not having the presence of mind to spot the direction of retreat and had no illusions that I was due leniency in the wild.
"Were you watching the battle?"
"I was, senior."
"Did it occur to you to offer aid?" he scowled.
"It did, but I saw how precarious the balance of the fight was and did not wish to risk disrupting your suppression."
"So you just stood there!? Cowering like a mortal?!" he roared at me.
"Yes, senior." I admitted without hesitation. There was no justifying oneself to a cultivator, after all.
He gestured to the other juniors to gather up to watch and asked them "What was Brother Guang's biggest mistake here?"
"Cowardice!" "Weakness!" "Tactical incompetence!" and a few other answers I couldn't make out came back over me and I had to put effort into not taking them to heart.
"Wrong!" Sung shouted over everyone. "Guang! What was your biggest mistake?"
"Losing sight of Sister Hua at the critical moment!"
"Wrong! That was your second biggest mistake! Your biggest mistake was not volunteering for this detail sooner!"
I was still facing the water beneath me as I blinked and could feel all the other juniors do so as well.
"Senior?"
"You may have lost your wits briefly on first contact with a grave threat, but your instincts and reasoning were nearly flawless! Fleeing the battle in the wrong direction could have cost you your life as it did the corpses that sister Hua retrieved. Distracting us while we fought could have cost everyone their lives. You realized this and refrained from doing so. I doubt your ginger would have saved you if the snake had turned on you, but it's a far better plan than running without a distraction at all."
His presence softened slightly and I looked up to see the senior squad all chuckling approvingly. "Let this be an example for the rest of you. Until your blade can cut the hide of a demon beast, think like brother Guang if you stumble near a fight with one unless you want everyone involved to die painfully! Save the glory seeking for when you can handle the beast yourself!"
That was... Not what I was expecting. I'd have to ask one of the seniors about the flouting of the 'individual power' dogma that he was doing. Even inside the sect I'd found nothing to indicate that cultivators were capable of that.
As we resumed the much less eventful culling duty, it occurred to me that there was probably a schism in the sect that I wasn't aware of. One that I'd probably accidentally picked a side over.
Not a comforting thought in the least.
---
I sat comfortably in my meditation closet and calmly, silently screamed my brains out over the revelations of the last few months.
I hadn't just 'picked a side' in the sect schism. I'd personally revitalized a side.
The Sect Master, along with several of the senior Elders, had apparently founded the sect with the intent of trying to actually harness the force multiplier of cooperation. Reasonable enough, sixth degree selfishness and all that.
But because of the nature of cultivators- literally. The way that cultivation works for most people- most of the disciples who rose to the rank of Elder over the near-millenium of the sect's existence were a bit more shortsighted. A betrayal or peer failure here or there tainting them against cooperation and toward beastial justice.
The Sect Master, slowly finding himself outnumbered, had seemingly given up hope that cultivators could cooperate and had shifted tactics to a more traditional attempt to minimize wanton predation among the ranks.
Some holdouts still existed, of course, but they were largely self-contained. An Elder teaching a squad of pupils the benefits of teamwork, the pupils sharing some notes with juniors, most of whom didn't have anyone they could trust enough to test it out. Normal cultivator nonsense.
And then one day, for no reason at all, mortal servants started cooperating to gain access to the primers.
Taskmasters were already incentivized to maximize servant efficiency, and the pattern I'd left in my wake was more efficient than the previous dynamic, so the taskmasters themselves were implicitly on board with the change and forcibly turning them against it had to be done all at once, which wasn't feasible with how the system was set up.
On top of that, despite being literal commoners, the ascended servants, like myself, were fully capable of competent cultivating. Because of course they were. It's literally just a form of menial labor done with the soul for the first entire tier. And being dissuaded by peers just wasn't a thing for them. Noble born cultivators had an entitlement to them that could be kicked out from under them.
Commoners? We grew up expecting to get the shit beat out of us. Having kind-of free medical care provided after we got walloped felt like we were being catered to, not oppressed.
My own situation? As the 'spearhead' of the rise of servant-ascendants? Apparently I'd just missedthat I was the target of every bullying campaign that could reach me because I thought this shit was normal!
Senior Tun taking exception to my volunteering? He didn't care about my rank. He was pissed that I thought myself worthy of trying as a commoner. Managing to put him on his ass clarified to him that we were cultivators not noble and peasant, and he had a breakthrough while I was out on the subjugation.
Elder Tong coming in and trying to mindwhammy me? Rumor had it that he was hoping that I'd beg him to hand me to Raka, but because I didn't actually say I wanted the position, he couldn't pull it off within the rules.
Meanwhile there were murmurings that if I managed to make it through to the Soul Core tier, it'd prove that noble blood wasn't inherently superior like many believed. And if the steady trickle of common borns behind me managed as well, that it'd prove the Sect Master's original vision valid and spell the doom of the more selfish Elders.
Which, y'know, would be great if the shorter vision of said idiots allowed them to do anything other than a violent purge and overthrow of the thousand-year-old Sect Master.
Okay, screaming done for now. Answers time. Because just inviting Raka to pill furnace me is a whole lot of not happening.
I'm still not attached to the sect itself, and the plan of fleeing as soon as I've got a good opportunity and enough strength to make it on my own hasn't waned once. But now I know that the current soft power of the sect despises me and wants me displayed to dissuade other peasants.
So how to cripple them?
I was already a lesser soft power in the outer sect on account of everyone assuming I was deliberately running things with my dinner meetings. I had all of the peasant-born ears and a healthy chunk of the sensible noble-born ones as well, though I'd never found something to do other than enjoy the company.
I was already taking my sweet time cultivating, making sure to lay each step of my foundation as stably as I could instead of rushing things. That meant that I had more time than otherwise because a sudden slowing in my growth would have telegraphed that I was buying time.
I had my notes on foundations and natural chi flows. I had my beginner rank Calligraphy. I had my blacksmithing that was a half step into proper beginner rank. I had my herbs and farming skill. I had the introductory manual for the Talisman arts thanks to my pay from the subjugation detail.
And I had the eyes of both allies and enemies among the Elders keeping each other at bay as long as I didn't rock the boat too hard.
So of course the best plan I could think of was to capsize the boat entirely.
---
"Ah! Senior brother Tun! I'm honored that you accepted my invitation!" I greeted my guest at the door.
"Brother Guang." he inclined his head in greeting. "Your humility is truly inspiring. The honor and pleasure is mine."
I blinked at his earnestness before smiling. "That is high praise indeed from you, senior! Come, the food is nearly ready!"
He cracked a smirk as he took a seat and I laid out the table. And then said with a sigh "I do apologize for my behavior before our last spar. It was unbecoming of me as a cultivator and as a man."
"And that makes one." I smiled back as I started pouring the tea.
"One?"
"One time since arriving here that I have received an apology from someone who took offense from me. You are truly a man of noble heart, brother Tun."
His eyes widened and his shoulders relaxed like a weight had been removed. "Thank you, brother Guang."
I courteously didn't mention the tear in his eye as we savored the tea's aroma together.
When he was past his gnawing demon completely he took a drink and smiled again. "Is this the value of the Sect Master's teachings?"
"I must imagine they are similar in some ways." I nodded. "There are only so many paths of camaraderie to articulate, after all."
He blinked for a moment. "You aren't the Sect Master's pupil?"
"I am merely an outer disciple in his sect. Though the rumor amuses me to no end despite the trouble it brings."
He paused, processing the truth as I presented it, before laughing uproariously.
"Brother Guang is a giant among ants to bear the weight of the rumor with no truth to it!" he eventually declared. "I am glad I thought to discard the jealous thought that you defeated me due to superior backing! I would have died of shame had I accepted it and learned its falsehood."
"Oh? You are not angry that the rumors deceived you about me?" I smirked, already profoundly glad I thought to start my plan with him.
"Bah! I've seen enough other young masters lose their composure and their lives over lies they told themselves. The blow to my Face stings, but it's covered by the rumor anyway. And brother Guang is not a fool, so I still believe you have a stratagem to capitalize on it and prove my defeat was fair and valid."
"Oh, you inferred that much then?"
"Most have, under false pretense. Several of our fellow disciples are pulling their hair out trying to predict when you will make a move, or if you have already and we missed it."
"Oh!" I perked up with a grin. "That makes it easier then!"
"It does?"
"Oh yes. If everyone's looking at my actions to catch a subtle move and I make an obvious one, how many will dismiss it as a blatant decoy?"
Brother Tun stared at me with a dull shock before nodding. "Far too many, and they'd dismiss any suggestion that the obvious move could be important. But what move could you make that the more levelheaded eyes would dismiss as well?"
"I'm going to submit a lesson to be added to the servant incentive list. A simple manual on the nature of foundations."
"How will you come by these teachings?"
"I already have them. Nothing more than personal observations and some hearsay analysis, but enough to impress someone who's never had a tutor."
"Ah. Clever. Nobody would think twice about letting a mere outer disciple's musings get to them. Which raises the question of who you want to notice and how offering it to the mortals will get it there."
I smiled wickedly. "That it does."
I turned my attention to the coals that were finished cooking the meal and started removing the leatherleaf-wrapped morsels while Tun tried to figure out what my angle was. It wouldn't do to treat him like an idiot and explain my whole gambit.
"You have me lost, I fear, brother Guang." he admitted as I finished setting the table. "All I can come up with is that you simply wish to help your former peers."
"That is the surface truth, yes." I smiled
He continued puzzling with only a brief distraction to compliment my cooking until finally catching the conceit that he'd called out himself.
"Brother Guang, may I see these musings of yours?"
"Certainly!" I handed him the manuscript I'd left within reach for exactly that question.
He read through it with the eyes of a man who'd realized its potential worth while we ate, and I enjoyed the show as he realized what the rest of the ploy was.
He reached the end of the barely hinged ramblings that best conveyed my comprehension and stared at me as though trying to find the words.
"How many families' secret foundation arts have you stolen to know all this?"
"Not a one. Those insights are just from my study of the primer available for the servants."
"There's no way that's true."
"Well, I suppose my attempts at communing with the heavens may have left my mind more open than most, but I assure you brother Tun. I've had nothing but my own soul and that primer to work with."
"Nobody will believe you. I believe you and I don't believe you."
"Should make a fine salve for all the bruised Face in my wake then, yeah?"
"The noble houses will kill you for this. Hell, my own father might kill you with how you described the entirety of our own foundation's advantages."
"As opposed to the seat of honor they've been preparing for me if I make it to my first tribulation." I chuckled dryly. "So, if you don't report it immediately, how fast do you think anyone will notice?"
He stared at me before grinning widely and taking a large bite of the boar calf that he'd been politely eating. "You're a madman brother Guang, but you're absolutely right! I'll keep your secret and spread word that the common born aren't to be needlessly antagonized."
"I'm glad to hear that brother Tun. Pickled ginger for your palate?" I segued into focusing on the bonding of the meal, having concluded the scheming for the evening.