Chapter 14 - A Silver-grade GeniusThe next morning was probably the worst I'd experienced so far in this world. Well, maybe not including the initial beating by Li Qiang, but still pretty bad.
So bad, in fact, that it got me worried enough to drag myself out of bed, still naked, and half-crawl, half-stumble to the small mirror hanging crookedly on the wall, just to make sure that everything was still in its proper place.
I stared at my reflection, taking in the damage.
Well, everything was in its proper place, but that really wasn't much of a comfort given the state I was in. My cheek was swollen and bruised where Feng Yao's blood bullet had hit me, my ribs were a mottled patchwork of purple and yellow, and there were several smaller cuts and scrapes scattered across my arms and legs. I looked like I'd just been in a bar fight.
Actually, not exactly, since I'd never been in a bar fight, so I couldn't say for sure, but I imagined this was what it would feel like if I had gone to one of those biker bars in a bad neighborhood and told everyone I was a cop. Not pretty.
I stood there for a long, silent moment, just staring at the sad, battered face in the mirror, trying to process how my life had come to this.
The moment passed and I was no closer to any meaningful answers. The events of last night, however, were a lot clearer. I had been ambushed. I had been manipulated. I had been used.
I'd gotten my ass kicked all over the training grounds.
Which frankly, was really just a natural result of getting into a brawl with a cultivator a full Realm higher than you, and with better technique to boot. It was easy to fall into the trap of thinking that the gap between Realms wasn't that big of a deal, especially when most female Body cultivators in this sect looked about as intimidating as a high school cheerleader. But that didn't take into account density. They were all dense. Dense bones, dense muscles, dense skin. Wei Ling weighed three hundred pounds for a reason. And Feng Yao probably wasn't much lighter.
So really, if you took away Feng Yao's cute face and skimpy outfit, and scaled her up to her real, adjusted-for-density size, the whole picture would suddenly appear a lot more morally questionable. Not that being pretty and petite gave you a free pass to beat people up, but I admit that my stupid horny male brain was having a hard time reconciling the image of the "cute", flirty girl from last night with the absolute monster who'd left me looking like this. And I suppose I was self-aware enough to know that if she had been a big, ugly, hairy dude, I would have probably been a lot less forgiving.
Which was embarrassing to admit, but it was the truth.
I gritted my teeth and turned away from the mirror, limping back to the bed. "Fucking Feng Yao…"
It wasn't my first time experiencing physical abuse in this world, but this time felt different. More… insidiously personal. It was the "date" framing, I guess. It made the whole thing feel less like a sparring match and more like a domestic dispute. If something like that happened back on Earth, it would probably end with a restraining order and a court case. Here? I doubted there was even a law against it. In fact, I was pretty sure that if I tried to report her, Elder Mao would just laugh in my face and tell me I was a disgrace to men everywhere. Probably suggest that I challenge her to a duel and "regain my honor" or some other bullshit like that. And if I lost, he'd probably sentence me to a month of latrine duty.
I sighed, collapsing back on the straw mat. At least they gave us the mornings off on Thursdays, before the evening culling. Which meant I had a few hours to rest and recover. I should have probably headed to the library to do some more research on demonic taint (Or really, to the infirmary to get patched up), but I was in no condition to move around or deal with anyone. I was in no condition to do anything, really. Except maybe lie here and feel sorry for myself. Which was exactly what I did for the next hour.
But then the hour passed, and I still felt like shit, so I finally forced myself to grab one of Zhou Liang's scrolls and tried to distract myself with a bit of light reading. I'd found this one during my last library visit, and I'd been meaning to take a look at it for a while.
-
On the Heavenly Grades of Aptitude, by Grand Elder Zhou Liang
The heavens are not fair. They are not just. They are a lottery, and you have lost. Do not waste your tears on a fate you cannot change. Do not curse the gods for a hand you were dealt. Instead, look to the heavens and laugh. Laugh at their cruel joke. Laugh at the absurdity of it all. And then, get back to work.
For indeed, it is a cruel, immutable fact of life. There are those who are blessed with gold-grade aptitude, destined for greatness from the moment they draw their first breath. And then there are those who are born with red-grade aptitude, what we, perhaps charitably, refer to as "mortal" aptitude. The vast majority of humanity falls into this category, doomed to a life of servitude and insignificance, until their soul is snuffed out and returns to the great wheel of reincarnation, processed into its base components in the Nine Hells to be re-forged into a new, hopefully less pathetic, form.
Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of years of reincarnation, and a soul might accumulate enough fortune to finally break through to orange grade and be born into a cultivator's body. And make no mistake: an orange-grade cultivator is a rare and precious thing, a testament to the soul's resilience, its unyielding will to survive and ascend. It is also the lowest rung on a ladder that stretches to the heavens. A climb that is the work of lifetimes. And a single lifetime, no matter how long, is not enough to reach the top.
I call this luck. A lottery. Which is true. But it is also true that there is a pattern to it. A rhythm. A cycle. A soul that has cultivated in a past life is more likely to be born with a higher aptitude in the next. A soul that has succumbed to demonic temptations, however, will find its fortunes diminished, its path to ascension blocked for millennia to come.
So do not despair, for your efforts in this life are not in vain. They are an investment in your future. A down payment on a better reincarnation. Cultivate diligently, live righteously, and perhaps, in a thousand years, you will be reborn as a silver-grade genius.
-
A silver-grade genius, huh? I put the scroll down and sighed. This was just the good old "you're poor because you weren't virtuous in a past life" argument. Also officially known as, "The Great Wheel of Reincarnation." Another concept I'd absorbed from Wei Fan's memories without really thinking about it. Honestly, I really had no idea if any of it was true. The gods/heavens? Maybe, maybe not. The hells? Definitely. But the whole reincarnation thing? I wasn't so sure. I'd died and been reincarnated, sure, but I hadn't gone through any "processing," and I hadn't been born as a baby. I'd taken over someone else's body with my entire self intact. Was that a normal reincarnation? Was that how it was supposed to work? I highly doubted it.
Still, Zhou Liang had already proven to be one of the more practical and insightful authors among all the texts I'd found, so I picked the scroll back up and continued reading, skipping over the vaguely preachy stuff about virtue and karma.
Finally, I came across a section that actually caught my attention.
-
The colors of aptitude are not arbitrary. They are a reflection of the soul's purity, its resonance with the fundamental energies of the cosmos. A red soul is a murky, discordant thing, barely able to perceive the flow of Qi. An orange soul is a flickering candle in the darkness, a faint spark of potential. A yellow soul is a steady flame, a green soul a roaring bonfire. Blue, silver, and gold… these are the stars, the suns, the celestial bodies that illuminate the path for all others.
If you are serious in your desire to ascend, then you must understand the nature of your own soul's light. In particular, you must understand your place in the grand hierarchy. You must know your limits. And you must accept them.
For that purpose, I, your magnanimous Grand Elder, along with the great geniuses of the Jade Serpent Pavilion, have conducted a statistical analysis of the aptitude grades across the Central Plains. By the grace of the Heavens, we were granted access to the birth records of over a million cultivators from various sects and clans, a data set of unprecedented scale. The results of our study are as follows:
For every ten thousand cultivators, roughly six thousand will be of orange grade, three thousand of yellow grade, nine hundred of green grade, ninety of blue grade, and five of silver grade. Gold-grade talents are as common as silver-grade talents, largely dependent on the intensity of their light. However, our records show a substantial difference between a low-gold, a mid-gold, and a high-gold. A high-gold is a true monster, a once-in-a-generation talent that will shake the heavens. A low-gold, on the other hand, is merely a shinier silver. The ratio of low-gold to high-gold is roughly a hundred to one, and…
-
I dropped the scroll again, staring blankly at the ceiling. Five silver-grade cultivators out of every ten thousand? I… I was one in two thousand? And mortals weren't even included in the sample? What the hell?
I blinked a few times, rubbed my eyes, and then… continued reading. The rest was a dense statistical analysis, full of charts and graphs that I barely understood. He went on to break down the numbers by region, by sect, by clan, by age, by gender, even by the alignment of the twin moons at the time of birth. There were all sorts of small interesting correlations. Apparently, the combination of high Spirit and high Soul aptitude was more common in women, while high Body and high Mind aptitude was more common in men. High Body together with high Soul was almost non-existent in both sexes, and they didn't find a single person who was above blue-grade in more than two categories. There was no mention of flickering aptitudes, though. Not a single word. Which was… concerning.
I closed the scroll and turned to the ceiling again.
So… one in two thousand. Assuming the flickering wasn't a sign that something was horribly wrong with my brain, I was a genius, one of the rarest talents in the entire region.
Huh.
Was that how it felt to take an IQ test and get a score of 140? A brief, fleeting moment of "oh, I'm a genius," followed by the crushing realization that it possibly didn't actually mean anything in the real world?
I mean, I already knew that being a silver-grade talent was a big deal, but seeing the actual numbers laid out like that… it was sobering. It meant that I was, statistically speaking, a rare commodity. A valuable asset. Someone who, in a more rational, less murder-happy world, would be nurtured and protected, not used as cannon fodder.
Except I'd hidden the results of my aptitude test, so no one knew.
But… but what if they did know?
What if they found out?
A trashy yellow-grade Body cultivator suddenly, miraculously, develops a silver-grade Mind aptitude? That was the kind of thing that got you dissected in a dark alley.
A sudden surge of paranoia rushed through me, cold and constricting. I had covered the crystal with my robes, but the elder's assistant had burst in. Had she seen the light? I'd assumed she hadn't, because she hadn't mentioned anything, but what if she had and just hadn't said anything? What if she'd told the elder? What if they were watching me right now, waiting for the right moment to pounce?
Jesus Christ, I was losing it.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. Okay, this was good, actually. Good that I was thinking about this now, instead of when I was being dragged away in the middle of the night. But more importantly, it seemed like I'd vastly underestimated the scope of my Mind cultivation potential. I wasn't just a genius in the backwoods of the Burning Maw Valley. I was one in two thousand. Possibly one in ten thousand if you took mortals into account. A genius by the standards of the entire Central Plains.
I tried to look at everything that had happened so far through this new lens.
I had mastered a self-discovered circulation technique on my first try, a technique so powerful that it allowed me to outmaneuver two opponents a full Realm above me. I was able to analyze and refine a Body cultivation technique in minutes, a technique that should have taken me months to master. And I had even managed to block the pain signals in my own nervous system, controlling my Dream Qi in such a precise way that I could stop the flow of Qi in the middle of a meridian. I wasn't sure how rare such a feat was, but I was pretty sure it wasn't something a normal First Realm cultivator could do. Wei Fan certainly couldn't.
Of course, all of this could very well be a huge load of bullshit. Maybe I'd just gotten lucky. Maybe Zhou Liang's statistics were flawed. Maybe my flickering aptitude was a sign of a brain tumor.
Regardless, I had to assume that I was, in fact, a silver-grade genius. Because the alternative was really too depressing to contemplate.
So… what could I do now, with this kind of talent, to improve my chances? Was there anything else I could do now to prepare for the demonic beast culling?
Well, let's see. The pruning thing was out of the question until I knew what the hell I was doing and how to not cripple myself in the process. Qi-washing was also a non-starter, since I needed to conserve my Dream Qi (and it was also a useless never-ending grind until I could find a way to speed up the process.) And the Blood Blade Hand was already at a point where I was fairly confident I could decapitate a reptile with it.
I paused, thinking about the Blood Blade Hand. I'd been so focused on that specific technique that I hadn't really considered the broader implications of what I was doing. If I could shape my flesh into a weapon, and do that at a level far beyond what was considered possible for a First Realm cultivator, then what else could I do? Could I shape other parts of my body?
Maybe.
I closed my eyes, activated the spinal cord meridian, and turned my focus inward, studying my Blood Qi.
It wasn't easy to figure out what I was looking at. My advantage (which was evidently a huge advantage), was the fact that I could slow down time slightly and analyze the flow of Qi with my Dream Qi. My disadvantage was that I was still a complete novice when it came to the Crimson Blade Path, and I was working with Wei Fan's shoddy, incomplete knowledge.
Still, the ability to track all the subtle nuances of the Qi flow was invaluable. It was like I had a high-speed camera pointed at my own circulatory system. I could see the way the Blood Qi pulsed from my Lower Dantian, the way it branched out into the various meridians, the way it interacted with the surrounding tissues.
Which was how I quickly realized that my initial model of the whole thing was flawed. My Body meridians weren't actually blood vessels. There was only one meridian that reached my pinky, for example, and I was pretty sure that a human pinky had a lot more than one blood vessel. No, clearly, the meridians were more like a second, parallel circulatory system. They were very similar to blood vessels, and Blood Qi was just specially-conditioned blood, but they weren't the same. If I wanted to feed the tip of my pinky with Blood Qi, what actually happened was the Blood Qi flowed into the meridian pathways that connected to the pinky and diffused its energy through some kind of mysterious interaction with the physical blood vessels. It was confusing because it did look like the meridians themselves were superimposed on the blood vessels, which they were. But they were also their own thing.
Interestingly, that had some implications for the pruning process, because I wouldn't be actually chopping off blood vessels (or, neural pathways, for Mind cultivation,) I'd just be cutting off dead Qi pathways.
I decided to put the thought to the side for now.
When I opened my eyes again it'd been ten minutes according to the crystal clock on the wall, and my Upper Dantian was down another five percent. I made note of this consumption rate, adjusted the Dream Qi flow to the lowest level I could get away with, then closed my eyes again and finally started experimenting.
To begin with, I focused on a tiny spot on my forearm, figuring that this was a relatively safe and inconspicuous area to practice on, and channeled Blood Qi to the spot. A few seconds later, I switched modes, used a wisp of Dream Qi to analyze the flow, and then switched back to Blood Qi to make adjustments. It took me about a minute to create a patch of hardened skin, about the size of a coin. I basically pooled blood underneath the skin and then solidified it, creating a small, raised bump that was surprisingly tough. I tapped it with a finger, and it felt like bone. I tapped it again, harder this time. It didn't budge. I grabbed a splinter from my straw mat and tried to poke it. The splinter snapped.
I studied the rate of Blood Qi consumption that took to maintain it. It was hard to get a precise reading, but it seemed to be a lot less than the Blood Blade Hand. Which made sense, since it was a much smaller area. But I could roughly estimate that it wasn't just the size of the area that mattered, but also the complexity of the shape. A flat patch of hardened skin was a lot easier to maintain than a razor-sharp blade. I could probably maintain this for a few days, maybe even weeks, before my Lower Dantian was depleted.
I stopped channeling Blood Qi, and watched as the hardened patch of skin slowly, very slowly, returned to normal. It took almost a full minute for it to completely disappear.
Okay, this was good. This was very good.
I spent the next hour in Dream Qi "analysis mode", experimenting with different shapes, different thicknesses, different levels of Qi infusion. I was honestly mostly just playing around, like a kid with a new toy, but it felt productive. And it actually ended up being productive, because by the end of it, I could create a small, perfectly circular patch of hardened skin in under ten seconds, and it was rock solid. it also didn't require me to activate it at the exact moment of impact like the Blood-Iron Carapace. I could just leave it on, like a piece of armor.
The disadvantage was, of course, that this little patch of armor looked like a disgusting, blood-red scab. It was not subtle. At all.
And I needed subtlety. I needed subtlety because I had no fucking clue how advanced this Body cultivation technique was, just that it definitely wasn't something a First Realm orange-grade disciple should be able to do. And if anyone saw me using it, they'd ask questions. Questions I couldn't answer.
I walked over to the mirror again, frowning at my reflection. Ideally, I would have liked to cover my entire neck with a layer of this stuff, but that would be impossible to hide. The robes were open at the collar, and everyone would see it.
The skin over the heart, though, should be easy enough to hide, and it was certainly a vulnerable spot, but I was also really nervous about messing with the Blood Qi flow around that area. It sounded like a great way to give myself a heart attack.
So what should I cover?
I suddenly recalled a memory of a disciple Wei Fan had seen in the infirmary a few months back. He'd been gored by a demonic boar, the tusk piercing clean through his lower abdomen. The man had survived, but he'd lost his Lower Dantian in the process.
I touched my lower abdomen, just below my navel, imagining one of the demonic reptiles bursting through me like a drill.
I shuddered.
Yeah, that was probably a good spot to reinforce.
I lay back on the bed, closed my eyes, and activated my spinal cord meridian. It was time to create a demonic reptile-proof set of abs.
Chapter 15 - Demons (I)
The culling didn't take place in the usual training grounds, but in a separate, much larger courtyard at the base of the mountain, right next to the Beast Pens. The whole area smelled of blood, shit, and something acrid that burned my nostrils. It smelled like the black sludge Li Hu had been sweating out, but a thousand times worse.
I wrinkled my nose in disgust, trying not to gag, and then joined the throng of outer disciples milling around the gate to watch the carts carrying the demonic beasts roll in. It wasn't a pleasant sight. The creatures were mostly reptiles, as Feng Yao had said, lizard-like things with long, sinuous bodies, covered in black and green scales, and they were all tightly bound with iron chains and muzzled with leather straps, but they were still snarling and snapping at anything that came close. Some were missing limbs, others had gaping wounds, and all of them looked absolutely pissed.
They were also, I noticed with a growing sense of unease, a lot bigger than I'd anticipated. The smallest ones were the size of a large dog, and the biggest were easily the size of a small car.
Yes, a small car. The cart carrying the car-sized reptile was groaning under its weight, and it took a dozen burly inner disciples to haul it into the courtyard. A dozen inner disciples on a single cart. That was just for one beast. And there were at least twenty carts lined up behind it. The whole operation was massive. A logistical nightmare, really, that the inner sect was apparently responsible for. There were inner disciples moving carts, inner disciples loading beasts, and inner disciples setting up the formation array that would trap the beasts in the courtyard.
Predictably, they all looked about as happy to be there as I was, which was to say, not at all.
"Hmph, to think that we would be reduced to this," one of them grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow. "Shoveling shit for the outer sect. It's a disgrace."
His friend laughed. "Cheer up, Brother Chen," he said. "At least we're not the ones who have to fight them. Look at those poor bastards." He gestured towards the new recruits among us, who were staring at the giant reptiles with wide, terrified eyes. "So many fresh organs for Pill Master Zhao to harvest. He will be pleased."
One of the outer disciples vomited on the spot.
"You know, I think I'm going to be sick too," Feng Yao said, appearing at my side with a grin. "Sick of all this waiting. Can we just get on with it already?" She wrapped her arm around mine, making me flinch a little at the contact. "Sorry about last night," she said, batting her eyelashes. "I got a little carried away. You're not mad at me, are you?"
I very carefully disentangled my arm from hers. "It's fine," I said, taking a step away from her. Just enough to ensure that she couldn't try to touch me again. "Just, don't do something like that again."
"But I thought you liked it rough…" she began, then frowned when she saw the look on my face. "Wait, don't tell me you're actually mad." She sighed dramatically. "Gods, you've been so sensitive lately. It was just a little friendly sparring. No need to get all pouty about it."
"Who's been sensitive lately?" Lin Tao said, appearing at my other side like a bad smell. He was holding a pouch of spirit stones in one hand, and a stack of betting slips in the other. "Wei Fan? Don't be ridiculous. Our dear brother Wei has the emotional range of a rock." He clapped me hard on the shoulder, then noticed the bruises on my face. "Did Feng Yao do that to you? Tsk tsk. A man should never let a woman get the upper hand."
"What can I say?" Feng Yao purred, closing the distance between us again. "He likes it when I'm on top."
"I'm sure he does," Lin Tao said with a leer. "But let's talk business, shall we?" He turned to me. "I've got a new bet going. Over/under on how many of the new recruits get mauled today. I'm setting the line at five. What do you say, Brother Wei? Feeling lucky?"
"Not interested," I grunted.
"Suit yourself," he shrugged, turning to Feng Yao. "What about you, my dear? Care to make a wager?"
"Call me 'my dear' again and I'll rip out your tongue," she said sweetly. "But I'll take the over. Ten mid-grade stones."
"Done," Lin Tao said, scribbling on a betting slip. "A pleasure doing business with you." He then turned his attention to the rest of the crowd, shouting, "Place your bets! Place your bets! Who will live? Who will die? Who will get disemboweled in a particularly amusing fashion? Don't be shy, folks! Step right up and test your luck!"
Another outer disciple released his breakfast gruel all over the ground.
Feng Yao shook her head. "He's such a vulture. Do you think he really—hey, where are you going?"
"To get a better view," I said, pushing past her and quickly slipping away into the crowd. My palms were sweaty, and I felt something unpleasant coiling in my gut. I wasn't sure what it was, just that I needed to get away from both of them. I needed a moment to think.
The gates were opening now and the outer disciples were starting to file into the courtyard, so I did the same, pushing my way through the throng of bodies until I was near the front. I found a spot against the stone wall that surrounded the courtyard and leaned heavily against it, trying to calm myself.
Everything's fine, I told myself. You have a plan. You have a strong partner. You have an armor-plated stomach. Everything is going to be fine.
I scratched my abdomen through my robes, feeling the reassuringly solid patch of hardened skin underneath. It had taken me most of the day to create and refine it, and a good chunk of my Lower Dantian's reserves to maintain, but it was worth it. It was a solid, three-inch-thick plate of Blood Qi-infused flesh, and it covered my entire lower abdomen, from navel to groin. I felt the draw of Blood Qi feeding it from my Lower Dantian. It was a constant, steady drain, but a manageable one. I estimated I could keep it up for a full day before running dry.
Unfortunately, my Upper Dantian had taken a hit too, with all the experimentation. I was down to around 70% capacity.
Still, I figured that a third of my Dream Qi capacity was a fair price to pay for the tactical advantage of having a bulletproof stomach. Sure, the maxed-out slowed time effect allowed me to dodge (probably) everything, but it was also a one-shot, last-resort ability. Having a physical fail-safe in case things went sideways was just smart planning.
"Careful with that Conduit Crystal, you idiot!" one of the inner disciples setting up the formation array yelled. "It's worth more than your entire miserable bloodline!"
"T-this disciple is sorry, Senior Brother!" the other one stammered, fumbling with a small, glowing crystal. "It slipped!"
I glanced over at the formation array. I hadn't really paid much attention to the magical technology part of this world before—on account of me being far too busy trying not to die—but now, watching the inner disciples carefully set this all up, I couldn't help but be a little intrigued.
The array itself was a circle of crystals, connected by thin, almost invisible wires that were designed to efficiently channel Qi. At the far end of the setup stood a big, crudely shaped crystal called the "Hearthstone," (essentially the battery powering the array), and it was connected to a series of smaller, more refined Conduit Crystals that were buried in the ground around the perimeter of the courtyard. Those were the output devices, basically, and depending on what type of Qi you fed the Hearthstone, you could make the conduits do different things. In this case, they were probably set to generate a Blood Qi barrier. A literal dome of blood.
The most interesting part, though, was the Array Core, the actual brain of the system. It was the most polished crystal, and could apparently be reprogrammed to do different things. A lot of different things, actually, to the point where it really didn't make much sense. I didn't know a lot about modern computing, just that a modern CPU had billions of transistors, and a crystal, no matter how "magical", was just a crystal. So how did it work?
Several of the inner disciples were charging the Hearthstone now, which essentially involved them pumping their own blood into it. It was a messy process, and they were all grimacing with the effort.
A short pause later, the formation array finally activated, and a dome of blood rose up from the ground, completely enclosing a large circular area inside the courtyard.
"Alright, gather around, everyone."
Instructor Bai stood on the opposite side of the blood dome, next to a door-shaped opening in the barrier. I circled around the barrier, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the shimmering crimson wall, and joined the crowd gathering around him.
"Good evening, disciples," he said with a sharp clap of his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Welcome to the weekly demonic beast culling." He wasn't roaring and yelling like he usually did, which was a little unnerving. "For some of you, this will be your first time. For others, it will be your last. So be thankful," he paused, gesturing at the cages, "that the sect has seen fit to provide you with a safe, controlled environment in which to hone your combat skills. Out in the wilds, there are no barriers. There are no instructors to save you. There is only you, and the beast, and the cold, indifferent heavens."
There was a low mutter of agreement from the crowd, and not just from the veterans. Many of the new recruits had been living in the mortal towns before joining the sect, and they probably knew firsthand just how dangerous the demonic beasts could be out in the wilds. A few of them were probably the survivors of demonic beast attacks, like Ming Zhu.
Instructor Bai nodded curtly, seemingly satisfied with the reaction. "The first thing you should understand is that this weekly culling is a sect-wide effort. Our inner disciples waste precious time and resources to capture these beasts for you. Our alchemists waste precious time and resources to process their remains. Our elders waste precious time and resources to oversee this entire operation. Lesser sects in this valley do not enjoy such luxuries. They hand the prized Lower Dantians to their most promising disciples, and sell the rest to the highest bidder. Then, they're surprised when their 'most promising' disciples piss themselves the first time they face a real demon. The Crimson Blade Sect, however, understands the value of practical experience. We understand that a strong foundation is built on a mountain of corpses. Your corpses, if you are weak. The beasts' corpses, if you are strong."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "Now, for the rules. You will enter the arena in groups of two. No weapons are allowed. You will face a single demonic beast until it is either dead or I deem you unfit to continue. If you can't continue, you are out of rotation, and the next pair will enjoy the privilege of finishing your kill. Each pair will be responsible for their own pile of filth, and at the end of the culling I will give you time to extract the Lower Dantians from said pile of filth. As usual, I will need two volunteers to transport the remains to the Beast Pens…" There were some groans from the crowd at that, but Instructor Bai ignored them. "The rest of you will clean the courtyard. Any questions?"
"Um, Instructor," a young woman with a trembling voice raised her hand. It was the pregnant woman from last night, standing beside Li Hu who was giving her a supportive nod. "This disciple wishes to know… what if… what if we get injured?"
"No questions?" Instructor Bai asked. "Good. Now, to provide some incentive," he entered the domed barrier and walked over to one of the carts. It was one of the smaller ones, and it was also the only cart covered in a heavy red tarp. "This week, we have a special guest." He grabbed a corner of the tarp and ripped it off, revealing a dirty-looking man crouched in a cage. He was thin, with matted hair and dead eyes, and he wore nothing but a loincloth. He honestly looked more animal than human, if not for the very distinctly zombie-like appearance of his face. And by zombie-like, I mean it was literally decaying.
"This," Instructor Bai said, "is a possessed cultivator. A weak-willed fool who allowed a demon to take root in his soul. He was once a proud disciple of the Heavenly Skyblade Sect, but now… he is nothing more than a puppet." He rapped his knuckles on the bars of the cage. "Wake up, filth."
The man didn't respond. He didn't even blink.
"Do not mistake his docility for weakness," Instructor Bai said. "The demon within him could be thousands of years old, with a millennium of combat experience. It is cunning, it is ruthless, and it knows more about the weaknesses of the human body than any of you weaklings could ever hope to learn in your entire pathetic lifetimes. It is, in short, the perfect killing machine." He turned back to the crowd. "But even the perfect killing machine, trapped in a Second Realm host, is still just a Second Realm host. And a Second Realm host can be killed. Which is why I will allow the disciples who remain in rotation until the end of the culling to fight him, one at a time, until he is dead. I don't expect you to succeed, of course. But I do expect you to try. The one who lands the killing blow will be rewarded with a Lower Dantian of a possessed cultivator, a treasure that is worth more than all the other Dantians in this courtyard combined."
The response was a lot more muted than Instructor Bai probably expected. Most of the disciples just stared at the possessed man with a—frankly—horrified expression. I admit my own expression was probably not much better, though for entirely different reasons. I wasn't going to fight this thing, because I wasn't stupid, so I wasn't wasting any mental energy trying to imagine how I would take it down. I was, however, absolutely disgusted by the implications of what I was seeing. This was a man being controlled like a marionette by a thousand-year-old unholy abomination. A man trapped inside his own body, watching helplessly as some parasite piloted him like a meat puppet.
And now he had to listen to this asshole of an instructor monologue about how he was going to be publicly executed for the entertainment of a bunch of bloodthirsty morons before having his organs harvested for spare parts.
That was just… really fucked up.
Well, I hoped the demon at least had the courtesy to do something about that awful skin condition of its host. I wasn't sure what would be the strategic combat benefits fixing a crumbling face, but if you were going to walk around wearing someone else's body as your personal battle armor for centuries, you might as well try to make it less ghastly.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" Instructor Bai snapped, scowling in disgust at our lackluster response. "An invitation? Line up. Pairs of two. Now!"
The entire outer sect scrambled to snatch a favorable spot in line.
Now what was a "favorable" spot in line? That was a good question, because I wasn't sure if it was better to be at the front of the line or at the back. Ideally, a spot after a bunch of recruits who would be too weak to finish their kills and leave me some easy pickings would be best, but if you were unlucky enough that the pair just before you actually managed to kill their beast, you'd end up facing a fresh and very angry new opponent.
The best strategy then, would be to try to put yourself after two, ideally, three pairs who would be guaranteed to weaken the beast without actually finishing it off.
I watched Lin Tao and his partner dragging two scrawny-looking recruits to the middle of the line, then shoving them into position ahead of themselves. It seemed like they were following the same idea, just that they weren't being as nice as I would have been about it. I wouldn't have been physically forcing a pair of trembling recruits in front of me like a bully. I would have talked them into it. Politely. Because I wasn't an asshole like Lin Tao.
I was completely absorbed in the process of trying to match faces with aptitudes for the new recruits when Feng Yao grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the very front of the line. I tried to resist, but she was just too goddamn strong.
We ended up right behind the first pair, two weak-looking recruits who seemed to be far too optimistic for their own good. They were grinning and chatting excitedly, completely oblivious to the doom that awaited them. Good.
This wasn't ideal, but at least it wasn't the absolute worst position to be in. There was no way these two were going to finish off their beast.
I began shaping my Blood Blade Hand, slowly and carefully, trying to conserve as much Blood Qi as possible. I didn't use Dream Qi for the final, perfecting stage. I didn't want to waste it. A crude blade would be enough to finish off a weakened beast.
"Prepare yourselves," Instructor Bai warned, stepping away from the doorway as the two recruits in front of us eagerly stepped forward. "I will now release your opponent."
He lifted his arm, and a hole opened up in his palm, spewing out a tendril of thick, crimson blood. The tendril snaked through the air and wrapped itself around the latch of the nearest cage, a cage containing one of the smaller reptiles, then ripped the door clean off its hinges. The beast inside immediately went crazy, roaring and rattling in its chains. A second tendril, this one much thinner but just as impressively long, snapped the chains holding the beast, freeing its limbs.
"Go!" Instructor Bai roared.
The two recruits, a boy and a girl, stormed bravely into the arena.
And lasted all of five seconds.
They literally didn't even scratch the beast.
I stared in horror as Instructor Bai's blood tendrils—which he'd wisely kept at ready inside the dome—lashed out to yank the two unconscious recruits out of harm's way just as the beast lunged for a finishing bite.
One of the recruits was missing an arm. The other one looked like she'd been partially digested.
"WEI FAN! FENG YAO! GET IN THERE!"
I turned my head slowly to Feng Yao, and blinked at her. She didn't blink back. She just beamed at me with a bright, eager smile.
I nodded toward the arena, gesturing magnanimously. "Ladies first."
She laughed. "Don't mind if I do," she said, stepping forward eagerly and cracking her knuckles.
I didn't follow her.
"Wei Fan, what are you waiting for?!" Instructor Bai bellowed. "Do you need me to hold your hand and sing you a lullaby? Get in there, you ball-less dog!"
Well, this was going to suck.
But there was no getting out of it now.
I steeled myself, took a deep breath, and stepped into the arena.
And then promptly got my head nearly bitten off.
Chapter 16 - Demons (II)
Wei Ling sat cross-legged on the roof of one of the pagodas overlooking the culling grounds, enjoying the cool evening breeze as it ruffled her unbound hair. It was a beautiful evening. It was quiet. It was peaceful. And most importantly, it was private. With most of the sect busy with the culling, she had a level of privacy that was hard to come by in a place as crowded as the Crimson Blade Sect.
She savored it. No one would bother her up here. No one would dare. She'd even let her hair down, a rare indulgence that she only allowed herself when she was absolutely certain she was alone.
Well, almost alone. She supposed her brother didn't count. Wei Fan had seen her enough times with her hair down that she'd stopped caring about it around him. He was family. He was allowed.
She felt the faintest start of a smile tug at her lips at a memory of him trying to braid her hair once… which quickly faded into a scowl when she watched him nearly get decapitated by a Scythe-tailed Lizard. Honestly, what was he even doing? He was just standing there, frozen like a statue, while the beast lunged at him with its mouth wide open. If it wasn't for that little vulture Feng Yao, tackling him out of the way at the last second, he'd be out of rotation already, and possibly earning himself another trip to the infirmary.
Wei Ling narrowed her eyes. He was moving sluggishly, his reflexes dulled. It was as if he was in a daze. Was he drunk? No, he hadn't been drinking. She would have smelled it on him from this distance. Was he injured? She scanned his body with her Eye of Clarity, but saw no sign of internal damage. His Qi flow was normal, if a little weak, and his face was covered with bruises, but that was to be expected from life in the outer sect.
She leaned forward slightly, focusing on his hands. He was holding his right hand stiffly at his side, as if… oh? Was that a Blood Blade Hand he was forming? And a rather passable one at that? He'd never shown any aptitude for such a complex technique. She'd tried to teach him the basics of a proper Blood Steel Palm once, but he'd given up after five minutes, complaining that his hand hurt.
Was this the result of Pill Master Zhao's "experimental pill"?
The thought made her blood boil.
If that decrepit old lecher had dared to use her brother as a guinea pig…
The Bloom in her soul stirred, a low thrum of anticipation. It wanted blood. It wanted vengeance. It wanted to see the old man's entrails decorating the walls of the infirmary…
Wei Ling gritted her teeth and clamped down on the impulse, forcing the Bloom back into submission.
She couldn't afford to lose her temper. Not now, not ever. She had to be rational about it. After all, she'd already come to the conclusion that Wei Fan had lied to her about that. She'd had Uncle Guo investigate, and while the old man had indeed found evidence of some… unsanctioned experiments in Pill Master Zhao's private laboratory, none of them matched the symptoms her brother was displaying.
No. Something else was at play here. Something she didn't understand. And it was infuriating.
She turned her attention back to the arena, watching as Wei Fan, surprisingly, managed to decapitate the Scythe-tailed Lizard with a single, clean strike of his Blood Blade Hand. It was a clumsy, desperate swing, but it was effective. The beast's head rolled across the courtyard, and its headless body convulsed for a few seconds before collapsing in a heap. It was his partner, Feng Yao, that had done most of the work, of course, distracting the beast and creating the opening, but still… it was an impressive feat for a First Realm cultivator.
Wei Ling felt her shoulders relax a fraction. He was out of danger, for now. He was safe.
At least until his next turn.
Satisfied that her brother wasn't about to die in the next five minutes, she allowed her eyes to shift away from the arena again, turning her attention to her flying sword floating obediently beside her. She plunged her hand into its depths, and pulled out the tea set she'd prepared earlier.
It came out dripping with blood—an annoying side effect of storing things inside a blood sword—but a quick flex of her Qi sent the droplets flying, and a second later, the porcelain was sparkling clean. She channeled more blood out of her hand, hardening it into a small, round table, then placed the tea set on it with a soft clink. Hot water from a flask went into the tiny teapot along with a pinch of fragrant tea leaves, and she watched as the water slowly turned a deep, rich red. It was a rare blend of Silverleaf Jasmine from the southern provinces, a gift from a suitor she had promptly and violently rejected. The man had been an idiot, but his taste in tea was impeccable. She saw no reason to let it go to waste.
She poured herself a cup, took a sip, and then closed her eyes, letting the warmth spread through her body.
She sighed contentedly.
Now the only thing missing was a proper snack to go with it…
Thankfully, she'd come prepared for that as well.
Reaching into her sword again, she pulled out a small, lacquered box. Inside were a dozen tiny flower-shaped cookies, each one dusted with a fine layer of powdered sugar. They were called "Moon Petal Pastries," and they were her one guilty pleasure. She only allowed herself to eat them once per cycle, and only when she was completely alone. There was no Blood Qi in them, after all. Just sugar, butter, and a hint of vanilla. It wouldn't do to let anyone see her indulging in such a frivolous, mortal treat.
She popped one of the delicious little cookies into her mouth, humming in satisfaction.
Her cook had really outdone himself this time.
Perhaps she'd been a tad too harsh when she'd threatened to have him flogged to the bone if he ever told anyone about her secret cookie stash. He was a good cook, and a loyal servant. He deserved a raise.
"Mmm…" She moaned again, this time a little louder, as one of the outer disciples below got his leg torn off by a particularly nasty-looking demonic reptile. It was a clean tear, right at the hip, and the boy was screaming his lungs out as he was dragged away by Instructor Bai's blood tendrils.
Perhaps a touch more sugar on the next batch?
Hmm… yes.
Even the Bloom purred in agreement.
She made a mental note to tell her cook later.
It wasn't until the fifth cookie that Wei Ling realized someone was about to intrude on her peaceful sanctuary. Someone was flying up the mountain, fast, and heading straight for her.
She choked, coughing loudly as a crumb went down the wrong way, then quickly tried to shove the rest of the cookies back into the box. But it was too late. The figure had already landed on the roof next to her, a gust of wind scattering two of her precious Moon Petal Pastries over the edge.
She stared in horror as they tumbled through the air, disappearing into the darkness below.
No… No! My cookies.
"Wei Ling! We've been looking all over for you," Su Mei said, her voice a little breathless from the flight. She was wearing her usual skimpy training gear, a crimson top that barely contained her assets and a pair of shorts that left very little to the imagination. "It's that core disciple asshole from the Heavenly Skyblade Sect. He—wait, what are you eating?" Su Mei's eyes widened as she spotted the box in Wei Ling's hand. "And your hair is down! Oh my gods, you look… adorable!"
Wei Ling's hand shot out, snatching the cookie box and shoving it back into her blood sword before Su Mei could get a closer look. "It's nothing," she snapped, her cheeks flushing. "And my hair is not 'adorable.' It is a practical choice for optimal Qi circulation during meditation."
Su Mei smirked. "Right. And I wear these shorts for optimal flexibility." She gestured to her own outfit. "So, about that asshole—"
"I don't care about him," Wei Ling interrupted, trying to regain her composure. "I am busy."
"Well, he's just attacked one of our patrols, and he's asking for you by name, so unless you want a diplomatic incident on your hands, I suggest you make yourself un-busy," Su Mei said, planting her hands on her hips. "He says you owe him an apology for… and I quote… 'besmirching his honor and crushing his balls, both literally and figuratively.'"
Wei Ling's eye twitched. That idiot again? She'd thought she'd made it perfectly clear that she wasn't interested. "Tell him to wait," she said. "I will deal with him after the culling."
"Oh sure, I'll just tell the Silver-grade monster who's currently holding three of our disciples hostage to 'wait'," Su Mei said sarcastically. "I'm sure he'll be very understanding."
"Then deal with him yourself!" Wei Ling snapped. "You are a core disciple, are you not? Or are you so useless that you can't even handle a single, over-inflated peacock from a rival sect?"
Su Mei's smirk vanished. It was a low blow, and they both knew it. "He brought friends. Two of them. Third Realms." She crossed her arms. "I'm good, but I'm not that good. This is your mess. You clean it up."
Wei Ling gritted her teeth. She was tired of cleaning up messes. Wei Fan's messes, the clan's messes, the sect's messes. It was endless. She just wanted one evening to herself. Was that too much to ask?
She matched her glare with Su Mei's for a long, silent moment. Long enough for the other woman to finally sigh and drop to her knees, sitting next to Wei Ling on the roof with a huff. "Fine, but it's your fault if this escalates into a full-blown war," she grumbled, then her eyes lit up as she spotted something on the tiles. "Ooh, is that a cookie?" She snatched one of the fallen Moon Petal Pastries before Wei Ling could stop her. "Oh my gods, this is amazing," she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head. "Where did you get these?"
The Bloom, which had been purring contentedly a moment ago, was now seething with a murderous rage. It screamed for blood. It screamed for the annihilation of the cookie thief.
"Sheesh, calm down," Su Mei said, flinching a little from the sudden spike of killing intent. "It's just a cookie. You can have the rest." She held out the half-eaten pastry. "Here."
Wei Ling snatched it angrily from her hand, then hesitated. It was tainted. Ruined. Su Mei's filthy mouth had touched it. She couldn't possibly eat it now.
She put it in her mouth anyway, chewing furiously. It was still delicious. Annoyingly so.
"So…" Su Mei began, pouring herself a cup of tea from Wei Ling's pot without asking. "Are you going to tell me what's so fascinating about watching a bunch of outer disciples get eaten by—oh, is that your brother?" She paused as a thought seemed to occur to her, then her eyes lit up. "Awww," she cooed an annoyingly long coo. "That's so sweet. You're watching over him. Like a little mother hen."
Wei Ling felt her face heat up again. Watching over him? What a ridiculous notion. She wasn't "watching over him." She was merely observing a valuable resource that had recently started showing signs of malfunction. It was a purely practical matter. A matter of quality control. Nothing more.
"I am ensuring he does not bring further shame upon our clan," she said stiffly. "If he gets himself injured again, it will reflect poorly on me."
"Oh, don't be so cold," Su Mei said, nudging her with an elbow. "It's okay to admit you care. He's your brother, after all. I wish I had a brother. Or a sister. Anyone, really. It gets lonely, you know?"
If she only knew the headaches that came with having a brother like Wei Fan… Wei Ling took another sip of tea, pointedly ignoring the comment.
"Is that a Blood Blade Hand he's using?" Su Mei squinted at the arena. "Not bad. Since when can he do that?"
"I wasn't aware that you were keeping such close tabs on my brother's progress," Wei Ling said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"I'm not," Su Mei said with a shrug. "But I do have eyes. And I saw him leaving your pagoda the other day. He looked… different. Like a kicked puppy. It was honestly kind of sad." She paused, then added, "he walked right past me, you know. Didn't even give me a second glance. And I was naked."
"Yes," Wei Ling gritted out. "I saw."
"Look," Su Mei pointed. "He's up again."
They watched as Wei Fan and his partner stepped back into the arena, this time to face one of the largest reptiles the inner disciples had caught. It was a lumbering brute with a thick, armored hide and a club-like tail that could likely shatter First Realm bones with a single swing.
No, not 'likely shatter,' Wei Ling mentally corrected herself. 'Would absolutely shatter.' The previous pair had found that out the hard way. They'd both been swatted out of the arena like flies, one with a crushed chest, the other with a broken spine.
She frowned. Why was Instructor Bai already pitting them against a second-rank beast? And a high-tier one at that? It was only the second round. Usually, he saved the stronger beasts for the more experienced disciples. It was already a difficult enough culling as it was, given the sheer number of high-quality beasts they'd brought in.
"Looks like your brother drew the short straw," Su Mei said. "That thing's a Hammer-tail. Nasty buggers. Its hide is as tough as iron. Not even my Blood Needles can pierce it. Your brother's little hand-chopper won't even scratch it."
She wasn't wrong. This fight would be over before it even began. Instructor Bai had apparently decided to end Wei Fan's participation early. It would take at least six different pairs after this fight to wear the beast down. And all of them would probably end up in the infirmary.
Wei Ling's hand clenched around her teacup, the brittle porcelain groaning under the pressure. Should she intervene? She could certainly fly down there and put a stop to this nonsense. A word from her, and Instructor Bai would have no choice but to back down.
"Wei Ling, your hand is shaking," Su Mei said, gently taking her teacup from her hand before she could crush it. "Relax. Instructor Bai is pretty quick with his blood whips. He won't let your brother die. He'll just… get a little mangled."
Another infirmary visit. Another round of expensive pills. More pressure from her father to follow through on what she wasn't ready to do. More headaches. More problems. More… everything.
Her sword turned from vertical to horizontal, readying itself for flight.
"Look, I'll help you get him out of there if things get too ugly," Su Mei said. "You'll have to break through the array, though. I'm not strong enough to do it on my own."
Wei Ling nodded slowly. Two core disciples on standby in addition to Instructor Bai's blood whips. He'd be safe. There was no need to overreact. "Thank you, Su Mei," she said grudgingly. "Your assistance is… noted."
"Anytime, sis."
Sis? Since when were they on such familiar terms?
Wei Ling frowned in annoyance, but decided to let the overly familiar address slide for now. She was far too busy watching the Hammer-tail charge, its massive feet shaking the ground with every step.
Not waiting to get trampled, Wei Fan wisely jumped out of the way, abandoning his partner to take the brunt of the attack, then scrambled to his feet and ran to the other side of the arena.
This wasn't the worst tactic, Wei Ling conceded. A Second Realm's Blood-Iron Carapace was far more likely to survive a direct hit from the beast, and it was certainly a lot better than both of them getting trampled.
Perhaps their strategy was for Feng Yao to distract the beast while Wei Fan looked for an opening. A classic, if uninspired, approach.
But the seconds ticked by, and Wei Fan did nothing. In fact, he seemed to be making an effort to continuously reposition himself in a way so that Instructor Bai's blood whips were always between him and the beast.
A cowardly move, but Wei Ling found herself approving of it. It was smart. It was safe. It showed a level of self-preservation she hadn't thought him capable of.
"Well, that's not very nice of him," Su Mei said, shaking her head. "Leaving his girlfriend to do all the work. What a gentleman."
"She's a Second Realm cultivator," Wei Ling said dismissively. "She can handle it."
"Uh, are we watching the same fight?"
Feng Yao, of course, couldn't handle it. The foolish girl was peppering the beast's hide with her Thousand Cuts Palm, but the tiny blood droplets were just bouncing off its armored scales. She was wasting her Qi on a technique that was clearly ineffective, and the Hammer-tail was getting angrier and angrier. It swung its massive tail, and Feng Yao barely managed to dodge, the club-like appendage whistling past her head with inches to spare.
Wei Ling didn't even blink. As long as Wei Fan was safe, the girl could get eaten for all she cared. It certainly wasn't ideal, she would've rather avoided her brother disgracing the clan so publicly, but she could tolerate it.
"I suppose it's her fault for partnering up with a First Realm disciple in the first place," Su Mei shrugged. "She should have known better."
Wei Ling nodded in agreement. How Wei Fan had managed to convince a high-ranking Second Realm to partner up with him in the first place was a mystery.
Although a few possibilities did come to mind… and Wei Ling found herself hating each one of them.
"I think it's over," Su Mei said, pointing. "She's almost out of Qi."
Wei Ling waited for Instructor Bai to intervene… and kept waiting.
"What is he waiting for?" Su Mei asked, echoing Wei Ling's thoughts. "Is he trying to get her killed?"
Feng Yao was finally forced to disengage, circling the beast until she was standing a few feet away from Wei Fan. They spoke for a moment, the conversation quickly turning heated, with Feng Yao gesturing wildly while Wei Fan stood there, apparently trying to calm her down.
And then Feng Yao shoved Wei Fan forward.
Straight into the Hammer-tail's path.
Wei Ling could only stare, dumbfounded, as her brother stumbled, his arms flailing, and landed face-first in the dirt right in front of the enraged beast.
It didn't take long for her shock to turn into fury. A white-hot, all-consuming fury that made her vision swim and her ears ring.
"THAT BITCH!" Wei Ling shot to her feet, her teacup shattering on the tiles. The Bloom exploded in rage, demanding that she fly down there this instant and protect the Soil, and for a moment, Wei Ling felt like she was going to pass out. The seals on her soul strained, a spiderweb of cracks spreading across their surface, and a wave of nausea washed over her.
Her boots slipped on the glazed tiles of the pagoda roof, and if not for Su Mei grabbing her arm, she would have fallen.
When she came to her senses a second later, she was on her hands and knees, gasping for air, her head pounding. Su Mei was kneeling beside her, holding her steady. "Easy, easy. Just breathe."
"Wei Fan…" she choked out.
"…Is perfectly fine," Su Mei finished, patting her on the back. "Look."
Wei Ling looked.
And saw… nothing. Nothing had happened. The Hammer-tail hadn't trampled her brother into a bloody paste. It hadn't even moved. It was just standing there, looming over his prone form, its massive head tilted as if in confusion.
And then it collapsed in a heap, a thin line of blood trickling from a massive hole in its face.
"How…"
"I'm not sure." Su Mei frowned. "He stabbed it in the eye with his Blood Blade Hand, I think. It was too fast to see clearly."
Stabbed an enraging beast in the eye? With a crude, First Realm technique? That was impossible. Even if he'd somehow managed to land the hit, the beast's eye was still a small, moving target, protected by thick, bony ridges.
So how…?
"I'm fine. I'm fine!" Wei Ling snapped, pushing Su Mei away and struggling back to her feet. "Let go of me."
"What happened to you just now?" Su Mei asked. "You looked like you were about to have a seizure."
"I slipped," Wei Ling said, brushing herself off. "The tiles are wet."
"Right…" Su Mei gave her a skeptical look, but thankfully didn't press the issue.
"Are you sure you didn't see what happened?" Wei Ling asked.
"Well…" Su Mei said slowly. "It looked like your brother tripped, and then rolled to his back, and then just… stabbed the beast in the eye as it was leaning down to eat him. It was the dumbest, luckiest move I've ever seen. The beast literally impaled itself on his hand."
"That's not possible," Wei Ling said immediately, watching Instructor Bai's blood tendrils snake out to confirm the kill. "He would have had to reach the brain. The aim had to be perfect."
"Well, he did," Su Mei said with a shrug. "And now he's got half of a high-tier second-rank Dantian all to himself. Lucky bastard." She sighed. "I wish I was that lucky when I was in the outer sect. I had to earn my kills the old-fashioned way. With my fists. And a lot of screaming."
Wei Fan had… stabbed a Hammer-tail through the eye, into the brain, with a single strike? While lying on his back?
Several flying swords shot over their heads suddenly, their owners shouting something about an enemy disciple from the Heavenly Skyblade Sect holding hostages.
"So… are we going to deal with that, or…?"
"Sit down," Wei Ling ordered. "I want you to watch the rest of the culling with me."
Su Mei raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to say something, but Wei Ling cut her off with a sharp glare.
"Fine," Su Mei grumbled, plopping back down on the roof. "But you're sharing the rest of those cookies."
Eat her.
"…or not," Su Mei added hastily. "I'm good. Just Tea! Tea is fine!"
"Just… shut up and watch."
/-/
"No plan survives contact with the enemy," the saying goes. Or in my case, "No plan survives contact with a psychotic bitch who thinks pushing you into a giant, man-eating lizard is a valid conflict-resolution strategy."
To say that I was pissed would have been the understatement of the century. I was beyond pissed. I was in a state of cold, murderous rage. The kind of rage that makes you want to do very, very bad things to the person who wronged you.
Feng Yao. Fucking Feng Yao. I was going to make her pay. Slowly. Painfully.
I half-stumbled, half-crawled away from that cursed blood dome arena for the sixth time that evening, clutching my stomach where my armor was now cracked and bleeding. My Lower Dantian was almost completely depleted, I was pretty sure I'd broken a rib or two, and my spine burned like it was on fire.
Six rotations. I had managed to survive for six whole rotations, making it all the way to the end of the culling. The only First Realm disciple that had managed to do so. Well, other than the pregnant woman who had spent the entire time hiding behind Li Hu, but she didn't really count. I, as opposed to her, had actually killed something.
Multiple somethings, in fact, far more than I'd initially intended. Feng Yao should have been doing most of the work. That had been the plan. But then she'd pushed me straight into the jaws of death, and it all went downhill from there.
I should have predicted something like that, damn it. I should have realized that she wouldn't just let me coast through the culling while she did all the heavy lifting. Why would she? After all, her goal, which she'd very explicitly stated last night, was to force me to reveal my "secret technique." And what better way to do that than to put me in a situation where I had no choice but to use it?
Fucking scheming bitch. Nearly killed me. Again. If I hadn't so painstakingly saved up every wisp of Dream Qi for the culling, I wouldn't have survived.
I reached the pile of corpses that Feng Yao and I had accumulated, a grotesque mountain of scaled flesh and shattered bone, and practically collapsed against it, panting. There was a small mound of heads nearby, neatly arranged. I threw the latest addition to the pile, the head of a Spiked-tongue Creeper, and then sat down heavily, leaning my back against the now-cold carcass of the Hammer-tail.
"Making a collection?" Feng Yao asked, settling down beside me and kicking her feet up on the corpse pile. She was completely unscathed, of course. Not a scratch on her. The regenerative powers of a Second Realm cultivator were apparently really something else. "You know, if you keep this up, people are going to start thinking you have some kind of a fetish."
"Pill Master Zhao would appreciate the extra specimens," I grunted, using the excuse I'd prepared in advance. "He pays well for intact heads."
"Hmm," she said, picking at her fingernails. "Well, in that case, I suppose I can let you steal a few. As long as you promise to use the money for something worthwhile. Like buying me a new dress."
I'd buy her a dress, alright. A nice, flammable one. And then I'd set it on fire while she was still wearing it.
"You have exactly one hour to harvest your Dantians," Instructor Bai's voice boomed across the courtyard. "Then, the final event will begin. The rest of you, start cleaning up this mess!"
"Ugh, this is the worst part," Feng Yao yawned lazily, pulling a small, curved knife from her sash. "So much blood, so little time." She gestured to the pile of corpses. "Well? Are you going to help, or are you just going to sit there and sulk?"
I moved to reach for my own knife, then paused, realizing something.
I'd already fucked up big time on my predictions about how the culling would play out. I'd thought I'd be able to coast through and let Feng Yao do all the work, and that hadn't happened. I'd thought that the first few rounds would be against weaker beasts, and that hadn't happened. I'd thought that I wouldn't have to use my Dream Qi, and that hadn't happened. I'd thought that no one would try to actively murder me, and that had definitely not happened.
And now, naively, I was planning to just waltz into the Beast Pens with a cart full of carcasses and start harvesting Upper Dantians, assuming that no one would notice or care.
Was it a reasonable assumption? Sure, it was. Would it work? Given how everything else had gone so far, I highly fucking doubted it.
No. I needed to stop underestimating the sheer amount of bullshit this world could throw at me. I needed to start thinking like a paranoid schizophrenic on a meth binge, because clearly, that's what surviving in this madhouse required.
Which meant I needed a new plan.
I was sitting on a pile of priceless organs, and I still wasn't sure how the extraction process worked. I knew where the Upper Dantian was, I knew what it looked like, but I had no idea how delicate it was, or how much force it would take to remove it intact.
I needed to test it now, not wait until it was too late.
I waited for Feng Yao to gut a Scythe-tailed Creeper, and then used that as a distraction to grab three heads from the pile and shove them into my satchel. It was a tight fit, and the bag was now bulging grotesquely, but I managed to zip it up before she turned around. One of the inner disciples who were supposed to watching for those kinds of thefts almost caught me in the act, but I pretended I was just rearranging the pile to make it more stable. He gave me a suspicious look, then shrugged and walked away.
We were only allowed to take the Lower Dantians, so harvesting anything else was technically against sect rules.
"I need to take a dump," I announced, "Badly," I added. "I'll be back in a bit to help with the Dantians."
"Seriously? Now?" Feng Yao asked, raising an eyebrow. "You couldn't have gone before?"
I shrugged helplessly. "When you gotta go, you gotta go."
"Hurry up," she sighed. "I'm not doing all the work by myself."
I grunted in acknowledgement, then turned and walked away as casually as I could, leaving the courtyard and heading out into the woods.
Extraction, absorption, purification.
Enough energy for days of experimentation.
In theory.
It was time to put my hypotheses to the test