77-84
Chapter 77 Chieftain Part 1
Chin chewed on a sugar cane out in the middle of a field. The sun was hidden and the clouds were full.
"It's going to rain soon," he muttered.
"How'dya figure?" The farmer next to him asked.
"It just will," Chin replied. "Get packed and clear the fields, and tell everyone to get inside. This one will be a heavy one."
The young lad nodded and made his way to the surrounding fields. That was Chin's doing. He had set up a messenger system. This one lad would go to a field and warn them about the weather, two from there would do the same for someone else, and so on and so forth.
That was the way it had to be done with this rainy season. The Kong Clan were arrogant bastards. The rain would come quickly and flood them all otherwise. The Void Blade Sect ruled the Empire along with the Imperial Family, and they were in charge of the weather throughout the lands. Someone had to be, otherwise most of the land would become inhospitable.
Chin had asked Mister Bill how they managed such a thing, not because he cared of course, but because the information might help with the farming. It hadn't.
At a few points across the vast empire, someone would be sent out and they would create clouds that would then propagate all over the empire. These points were called storm points and they were strategically located to cover the entire empire in rain for a few months out of the year.
Now most clans would have the decency to spare whatever resources they had and take their time in producing these clouds, creating the proper amount of them over a certain period of time.
The Kongs did no such thing. Their rainy season would last two and a half months at most, one and a half at worst, and they would compensate for that by overproducing the necessary clouds. Every rain was a storm and every storm was a flood. They actually overproduced rain in truth. There would be five the amount of rainfall in one Kong season than in any other clan's doing.
Flooding was a problem, as was the shortness of the season.
Chin didn't plant much during the rainy season, few crops could grow during that time and few more could withstand the flooding. Most of the farmers and village would be busy serving the hoards of merchants that were passing through. And today was no different.
Standing from a hilltop, Chin could see the tens of thousands of pack beetles littering the place. They were large beasts capable of carrying thousands of pounds of goods, most of which were for mortals. But something was different now, there were more people and yet somehow fewer people.
The pack beetles were used by mortal traders or people of the first and second rank, transporting goods from one side of the Great Desert Strip to another. And those traders had the most to move.
Clothing, food, spices, herbs, books, and all other manners of mortal goods came through here, and they took up space. But cultivator goods like jades, spirit stones, cultivation scrolls, pills, spiritual herbs, beast parts, and weapons, were small.
One of their swords could be worth one full-third-rank spirit stone. It would be made out of a magic metal of some sort and it could slice through rocks and trees as if they were air. And there were a lot more of those types of traders coming through now.
Single cultivators on the backs of spirit beasts would come trampling through the region with a single chest or one of those storage space devices. There was a fourth rank on the back of a tiger everybody seemed to be afraid of, and a fifth rank who kept trying to talk to the maidens.
Rin Wi had smacked that one red and bloody, and the poor bastard had nearly popped.
He reminded Chin of a tomato by the end of it all.
There were more cultivators now and Chin was visibly annoyed by that. He grabbed the equipment, along with the other aids, and they all said their goodbye.
"Goodbye Mister Chin!"
"We'll see ya tomorrow Mister Chin!"
"Make sure to stay off the fields for the night, Mister Chin!"
Chin just nodded. No one took offense to that, they all knew better.
Chin walked back to his home, where his amazing wife stood waiting for him with a plate full of food.
His amazingly stubborn wife. Three minutes later he was on his third plate. This was his punishment, he had forgotten to come in for lunch and he hadn't finished his breakfast.
Thankfully the woman let him go after that and he went outside to fetch some water from the well to bathe with.
An hour later he was clean, full, and tired. It would have been the perfect time to go to bed.
Chin sighed. He could not. He put on his robes, the uncomfortable ones with the fancy collar and embroidered tree, and went to fetch Rin Wi.
"Rin, let's head out," he stated.
Rin Wi was in the kitchen, cutting up some ginseng into a pot.
"Chin," a voice boomed.
Chin frowned.
"Rin Wi was just making some tea here, want some?"
Mister Bill sat at the table with a cup waiting expectantly. Medin sat with him, talking to him and also hounding him to eat as well.
"Chiny," Medin stated. "Where ya heading out at this time of night?"
Chin glared at Mister Bill, who was now sipping his tea and looking in any direction other than him.
"To deal with the cultivators he brought in," Chin stated.
"I didn't bring them in, they came here by themselves."
Chin kept glaring.
"You want me to kick them out?" Mister Bill asked.
He did.
Chin didn't want to talk to cultivators. He wanted to sleep, then he wanted to farm, but because of that old bastard he now talked to some prissy guy in robes.
But he couldn't say no. These talks would only benefit the village, not hurt them. And as the village chief, the burden of negotiation fell upon him.
"Let's go," Chin stated looking directly at Mister Bill.
"Who me?" Bill stated, feigning a reaction.
Chin didn't elaborate.
"Why do I have to go?" The man whined.
Chin just glared in response.
"Fine, but Rin is coming with and so is Mei."
Chin shrugged.
"Rin, go get Mei Shan."
Rin, the ever-silent, nodded.
Chin liked her. She had taken to cooking like he had taken to farming, and she had now become Medin's shadow, working alongside her and sharing tea and gossip with the woman at any time.
They had clicked, like an old pair of friends. Medin often told him that Rin Wi reminded her of Chin. She said the girl talked little and cooked a lot, and that she had little tolerance for cultivators.
Chin liked that. He had started taking her to the cultivator encampments as security. A few of them had threatened Chin and a lot of them had flown off into the wind.
Rin had taken one fellow and spun him around by his legs so fast that she had started a small tornado in the place.
She had a name now, Chin had heard. A title, The Silent Guard of The Immortal Oasis Sect.
Chin just thought of her as the local police. Over the weeks, more and more people had been calling the girls in as authorities, often to mediate.
And the one with the most talent for that was Mei Shan, followed closely by Rin Wi. She had become the defacto arbitrator of any dispute within the valley. She was always fast and fair, always.
The other day Chin had been approached by two villagers, one yelling about his sickly dog claiming the other had poisoned it. Mei Shan had quickly figured out the truth, and had even cured the dog, and stated, as a punishment, the neighbor wouldn't be allowed to have his own dog for a year.
When the perpetrator rebelled against that, stating he needed his herding dogs to make a profit, she continued to threaten to take his sheep as well. And he could use the dogs for herding, as long as he rented them from Chin. They'd go back to being his within the year and half the income would go to the grieved party while the other half would go to village income.
Both parties accepted the agreement and the culprit wallowed his way back home.
She was a good lady, a smart lady, and one capable of resolving most situations. Her presence within the village had lightened Chin's shoulders mightly. Rin Wi was all well and right but Mei Shan was a natural leader.
Honestly, he was thinking about making her a village elder and he doubted anyone would have a problem with it. And with the sudden rise of population, they were bound to experience, Chin was slowly growing fonder of the idea.
Chapter 78 Chieftain Part 2
Chin walked with a frown.
A cultivator came to him to talk, a third rank. He bowed to Rin and Mei but he was completely oblivious to Mister Bill. Everyone was.
Chin sighed.
"Oh well, the members of the Immortal Oasis Sect are here," someone cried.
The makeshift streets parted in front of him and people looked.
They didn't look at him though, only through. To them, he was a decoration, an extra. Something to do with politics or face, a servant maybe. All they truly saw were Rin Wi and Mei Shan and he was like the dust on a pearl.
Chin didn't care. He walked through the crowd, leading the four of them into a courtyard-like area that had been kept just for this type of occasion. There was a tent at the center of it. It wasn't a bad tent, but compared to all the lavish shades and beautiful fabric the other tents were made of, it was practically rags.
Chin walked towards it. This was his meeting station. It was where he met with cultivators and merchants, people who wanted to settle down her and set up shops. There was an immortal here, after all, one that did not allow violence. A lot of cultivators knew this, but the news had yet to soak into the region's mind.
Immortals were gods to these people, even if someone stated it, that didn't mean it was true. But it was only a matter of time before that changed, and even now, many flooded his village.
It was to be expected.
Chin felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Wait a minute," Mister Bill said.
Rin Wi walked past him and stood firmly in front of the tent.
"Come out!" She yelled.
The tent flap opened to reveal a man behind it. He looked tired, partially asleep, and ragged. He opened his mouth and yawned and Chin saw teeth as black as night. He had blond hair and wore strange striped robes.
Behind him was another man, this one was awake and well-dressed. His clothes were simple but prim. His robe folded in on itself in the most proper way possible and everything about him seemed just right.
Except for his eyes. The man had something dark over his eyes, something glass-like held up by two thin metallic bars that hung on his ears. Another metallic bar covered the bridge of his nose, connecting the dark glass circles.
"Now those are some expensive shades," Mister Bill commented.
Chin didn't ask. He knew better now. It was either a cultivator's phrase or some strange thing from another world.
"Are you the guy in charge?" The man with black teeth asked.
He had looked at him. The man had looked not at Rin or Mei but rather at Chin, and he was clearly at the fourth rank. He should have been able to sense their power.
Chin nodded. And the man with black teeth rubbed his head lazily.
"They said this is where I would find the village chief, they didn't warn me about the security though," the man spoke.
He looked the two women up and down, and while that would have been an insult to some, Chin could sense nothing but admiration from his gaze.
His aura was open and unkempt and his emotions were not hidden. Respect, admiration, envy, and a little bit of fear.
It was strange.
Chin had met many cultivators; none were nearly as open as this one. He had only recently broken into the first rank, but even then, of the cultivators he had met none were as open as this one.
It was overwhelming, like a stew with too much spice.
"Right, well I wanted to set up shop here and I guess I fell asleep waiting for you. Oh, and this guy decided to wait as well," the man spoke, pointing at the well-dressed man behind him.
"Who are ya?" Chin asked.
"Rou Xin," the man replied.
Informal, quick to the point. Chin liked that.
The girls stared at him with light suspicion and worry. Why'd they do that, Chin wondered. Weren't they stronger than him? Mister Bill was still staring at the other man behind him, eyes glistening in curiosity and his tail waving slowly behind him.
"What's your business?" Chin asked.
"Uh, medicine. I was hoping I could settle down here and start selling some medicine here," the man replied.
"Got any baggage?" Chin asked.
"Baggage?" The man asked.
"Any assassins or sects that are after ya?" Chin clarified.
He'd had a few of those, criminals trying to hide from their punishment underneath him. Some he allowed, if he sympathized with them, but others he tossed out with no remorse. Well, Rin Wi did the tossing, but he nodded along from the sidelines.
"No one's after me," the man replied. "Maybe my family but, they already know I'm here."
"Do they wanna kill ya?" Chin asked.
It was an absurd idea, a family wanting to kill each other, but Chin had to ask. These cultivators were strange folk.
"Nope," the man replied cheerfully.
"And who would yer services be to?" Chin asked.
"Anyone really," the man replied.
Chin thought about this for a second. They already had a doctor who sold herbs and treated people. But she was old and her back ached worse with every growing day. She had children and other people who helped run the shop, but they weren't nearly as capable as her.
But Chin would be weary of placing the entire village's medical needs upon one stray cultivator. That would be stupid and short-sighted.
"You can live here and work here, as long as you provide some texts and teach some students three times a week," Chin finally said.
"Students?" The man asked.
"Our doctor's getting old and she's wanted to retire for a while. You can take over her shop with her permission and teach her students while you do so."
"Teaching mortals?" The man said, mouthing the words curiously. "How interesting. I'll do it."
Then the man stuck his hand out to Chin and without flinching, Chin shook it.
Rin and Mei still seemed tense for some reason.
"Mei Shan can get you sorted out for the night and she'll talk to our doctor for you," Chin said.
"Thanks!" The man replied.
"And you?" Chin asked, looking at the second man.
"I'm just passing through, seniors," he replied, giving a formal bow to Rin and Mei. "How long are we permitted to stay here?"
"As long as you like if you pay for room and board. If you want to live here though, you'll have to book that through Mei."
"I see," the man replied suddenly staring intently at Chin.
"Just head up to the inn over there and ask for a long-term room. We just finished building a few yesterday. There should be one available right now."
The man stared at Chin for just an instant more before nodding and heading off. Several other cultivators who had been listening in on the discussion also made their way to the inn.
The building was being done by Madam Rose and her people, along with Bri Lou. The girl seemed to like working with her hands so Chin had assigned her to the local carpenters within the village, and she seemed to be leading the operations, wanting to build taller and taller buildings.
Chin didn't know if they had the resources for that, but she and Xi Lu had gotten into talks about sewers, and underground tunnels exclusively for waste management. Apparently all the big cities had them and Bri was insistent on building them before the expansion could grow too far.
It had been months since the girls had arrived but they had all taken to the village nicely.
Chin smiled for just the slightest second at that thought. Then he walked into the tent to start on the business. There was a lot to listen to, a lot to plan, and as much as he didn't want to do it, he knew Mei Shan did.
He couldn't read the girl for the life of him, but Rin Wi had told him that was the case.
He had been annoyed back when they'd been dumped at his doorstep, but now he couldn't imagine the village without them. They were vital to the place, and more importantly, they were valued.
More and more villagers wanted to hear Rin Wi's recipes and have Mei Shan judge over their disputes. Xi Lu and Po Pen were an odd but pleasant pair to see wandering the streets and talking.
Lin Tai was always busy in the forest doing Heavens know what, but she came back smiling nowadays, and she talked to him and the other villagers with a smile.
They all stiffened up around cultivators though, and they practically turned to stone around Mister Bill. He scared them, instinctively.
Every one of them except for Rin Wi started acting differently around that man.
And that made Chin feel something he had never felt towards the old cultivator, pity.
The man meant well, he always meant well. He always cared. He was a strange fellow, true, but he wasn't scary. For all his power, he was just an old and lazy hermit who came down for dinner once in a while.
Chin sighed.
If he believed in the gods, he would have prayed for those girls. But then again, the gods were the ones who had done this to them in the first place.
Chapter 79 Immortality Part 1
I sat cross-legged staring out into a field of flowers, and I watched. In the distance, thousands of miles away from me was a man.
I could have used a lot of words to describe this fellow, powerful, angry, resilient, persistent.
But none of those would be enough.
He leaped forward banging his fists against the doors of immortality, and once again he was rejected.
Mad would have been a good word for him, insane maybe.
But I would call him sad.
A false immortal was a person who had managed to gain an unaging body, something that would persist for millennia but did not have the dao to persist.
Ah-Min Tah, I had asked about the strongest person within the region back when I had first talked to Cai, but now that I was looking at him, I felt nothing but pity.
The body could persist. It could be fixed, healed, remade, and rejuvenated, but the soul was such a delicate thing.
The man pounded against eternity once more, and eternity did not care.
The pursuit of cultivation was a beautiful thing. Cultivators themselves could be disgusting, but cultivation, cultivation was beautiful.
To push yourself beyond the edge and into the depths of infinity, to seek an absolute existence and rely on nothing but your own strength, there was beauty in that. That was the beautiful side, the thing Wukong represented, determination and power, independence and freedom.
There were also virtuous souls who sought power, not for themselves, but for the world. They sought to be a force of good and to make the world change for the better. I wasn't one of them, but I admired them.
And there were the evil bastards, the selfish animals who fought to control all they could and use everything as they pleased. They were repulsive, but beautiful in their own way. Even though they were admirable in their attempts, a great evil was still great after all.
But this, this failure I looked at. This made me sad.
I had watched him for three whole days, during which he had failed to break through the gates of immortality five hundred times.
Only to immediately try again afterward. His failure didn't register, not anymore.
Maybe he had been growing at some point, changing each attempt to better push against his mortal coil, but he would not shed it.
Immortality wasn't a light thing. It could not be brute forced, at least not by him.
By living beyond your allocated time, you wore down your very existence. The body then became an anchor giving you more time and if you could manage it, it would become an island. An esoteric healing technique, a strange energy, a sacred artifact, something to keep not aging and alive.
After that you'd assume you had all the time in the world. You'd be a bit lazy, then you'd be smart and try to make it into the immortal rank there. And a few would make, a lot would die, this poor bastard did neither.
Then for the first time in your life, you would feel another thing age. Your soul, your very mind would wither, you would forget lovers and children, lifetimes would slip away like the memories of an errand. First events, then people, then language, and eventually, even whatever dao you had left.
Time, it was the dementia of the soul.
I sighed and took a breath, then I moved.
The man, no, the thing saw me and in its primitive little brain it sensed what I had. It knew what I was, and it striked.
I dodged and kept dodging. It kept attacking, and sometimes I would block, if only to save any innocent below us.
After three days, he withered. His qi was all but spent and his soul was all but empty.
He stood on the ground, glaring hatefully at me for a moment before his eyes lit up.
"I… lost," the man noted.
It wasn't just an admission of defeat, it was the admission of defeat. It was apathy and complete concession.
The man stood there for a moment, then looked at me.
"Am I complete?" He asked.
"No," I replied.
"Oh," then he stared for another moment.
"I feel complete," he added.
"You're not."
"I…see."
Even now he wasn't a man, just a shadow of one. This was the dream before the slumber, a last thought before death.
The man's eyes widened, then he looked at me and laughed.
"You wouldn't happen to have any clothes on you by any chance, would you? And a shaving knife if you got one, and some soap maybe, and could you carry me to a river?"
There was a sad joy within his words, an acceptance.
I nodded.
I took him to a river where he bathed himself clean. I gave him a sharp blade to cut himself with and I let him wear fine clothes made with beautiful fabric.
He looked good after that. He looked civilized.
"I failed," the man finally said, staring sadly at the sky.
"You failed a long time ago," I replied.
The man nodded, still smiling at the sky.
"Do you… do you know my name?" He asked.
"Ah-Min Tah," I answered.
"Ah-Min Tah," he spoke, sounding out the name as if he were saying it for the first time.
"I can't believe I ever forgot that," he chuckled. "And my sect?"
"They left long ago."
"Did they now?" He asked. "Do you know their names? Did any one of them ask about me?"
I simply shrugged.
"To have outlived them, what a strange thing it is. Though I haven't outlived them have I?"
I shook my head.
"I don't remember much. I remember struggling. I remember living. I remember my third rank tribulation and I remember, I remember trying. It's strange, I thought there'd be more than this. Even if I died I always thought it would be in battle, noble and proud, not… not this."
His eyes didn't shimmer, his voice didn't quiver, and the words left his mouth like plain description.
"Would that have been better, I wonder? Death by the sword?"
Then he turned to look at me.
"Would it be better?" He asked.
"You can't kill what's already dead," I replied.
"Haha, yes. I suppose you can't," he laughed.
He sat there for a bit more before talking again.
"I… I remember I had a cat when I was young. A small little grey fellow. I was horribly heartbroken when it died. I cried for weeks then. I wonder if that's why I tried to be an immortal?" He asked.
"Is it?"
"I don't know," he chuckled. "But if it was then, what a silly little reason to have lived for."
"Do you regret it?" I asked.
"I don't know," he laughed. "At least, I don't think so. What a curious thing."
Then as the flames died out, they shined.
"I don't," he spoke. "I don't regret it one bit. I regret the way I went about it, but I don't regret it at all."
In his final moments before death, he smiled.
"What a wonderful thing it was."
Chapter 80 Immortality Part 2
Gai Jin roared.
The ground beneath him blurred and his feet broke the earth with the weight of a mountain. He chased.
Gai Lu ran.
The man was afraid, but not as afraid as Gai Jin would have wanted. His master's hand weaved an old sign and a talisman shattered. Instantly, he vanished.
This was how it had been for the past few days. Gai would search the lands scouring for the man, and eventually, he would find him. And then somehow the old man would find ways to escape.
This time it was a spacial talisman with secure teleportation. It was expensive but Gai Lu could afford the cost. He had been mining the spirit stone vein created by the demons for centuries now.
That was why Gai Jin had been in that cave for so long.
The Bloody Fist Sect had been established on that mountain for a reason. It was their purpose to destroy the remnant qi leaking from those ancient corpses. That had been their job since the very beginning.
And all the monks before him had pushed for that end, all except for Gai Lu.
That selfish monk had been tempted by the Hollowed Echo Sect. He had seen their children grow, and he noticed their wealth prosper. Those blind bastards managed to transform all of that demonic qi into something useful.
And maybe Gai Lu had been honest at first. After all, spirit stones were spirit stones, and the ones underneath Strong Fist City were clear of any demonic influence.
But that was like letting a wound fester and rot just to enjoy the fever on a cold winter night. Not all of that demonic qi dissipated into the ground. Some of it grew, some of it refused to change and those bits would gather and coalesce into something else, something new.
That was how the first of the Hollowed Echo Sect had been born, a lone cultivator tainted with demonic infestation. Gai Jin didn't hate them. They were wrong, they were twisted, but they were still human.
Some would consider them demonic path cultivators merely because they carried a demonic bloodline. They were right in a way, but demonic bloodlines didn't make for an evil man.
In truth, the word demonic meant nothing. The Demonic Path meant nothing. The Orthodox Path meant nothing.
And the Righteous Path meant nothing.
They were all words used to describe the system and not the man, this he knew better than anyone else.
Treating them like the definitions of good and evil was a fault he would never bend to.
His master had crumbled to that fault.
His master had killed his older sister to that fault.
His fury boiled.
A person's path was more than just cultivation. It was more than mere practice. A person's path was their very being.
None are demonic because they take, nor were any righteous because they gave.
Those were merely parts of your dao, tendencies, aspects, not defining wholes.
What was Gai Lu? Virtuouse to some, yes, kind to many, true.
But the man had more greed and sin in his heart than any one of those blind assassins.
He was a fruit, ripe and clean on the outside, but infested and full of maggots within. The virtues he held so highly were nothing more than clothes, a facade. A mockery of kindness and a beautiful coat of paint hiding his rotten heart.
Rage. Righteous and infallible rage became too much for Gai Jin, and for a moment, he saw it.
He saw the path to eternity filled with red fists of violence. He saw what he was and what he could become. He saw vengeance and virtue, and he saw himself be the sword that brought the two together.
He saw his past, Li Fang's death, and Lui Yong's tears.
And suddenly the rage vanished, and there was only sadness left.
***********
Tai Lui was not a broken man.
Few knew what had happened, and no one but him knew the specifics.
But even if they did he was not a broken man, no, quite the opposite. He was a healed man.
The things that immortal had said were true. It wasn't his pride that was the problem. Nor was it his dao, but rather how his dao worked.
His mind reached deep within his soul and searched every crevice of that dark place. He touched his dao, his being, the thing that was him and yet was not.
And he changed it. He saw it was too large, too strong. He saw it defined him in every way. He saw it was changing him rather than him changing it. It was like a heavy sword, unwilling to swing the way he wanted to and straining his very being.
The sword was sharp and strong, but it refused to move as he wished it to. It refused to change.
Tai Lui had always thought that a stronger dao meant a stronger cultivator and while that was true, stronger meant many things.
A diamond was hard but brittle. A sword needed a handle, lest the owner cut themselves while wielding it.
Tai Lui's heart churned.
He had gone into secluded meditation after consulting with Gai Lui. The two had talked for hours without end, both contemplating the fight and learning from it. And Tai Lui had consulted the monk on the actions he should take to deal with Gai Jin.
The two had a long history. They had been enemies when they first met at an inter-sect tournament. Their last name and similar age ranges became the defining point of the tournament, and as if fated, the two had fought against each other.
Gai Lui had worn thick metal gauntlets and Tai Lui had used a heirloom sword. The clash between them had been tremendous, the audience had screamed and held onto their every move.
In the end, it had been a tie.
A lucky thing, Tai Lui thought. We would have never become friends otherwise.
Both men were powerful and both held their pride at their core. For Tai Lui, it was the only time he had seen those supposed men of virtue as anything more than fancy beggars.
Their daos bothered him. Peaceful, kind, giving.
To what end? For what cause? For what honor?
It had all seemed so pointless to him, to pray and struggle and read scriptures all day in shaggy clothes, even mortals had more face than that.
But then he had met Gai Lui, and he understood.
Then he understood the pride within humility, the reverence of the masses, and the throne of the meek.
The pride of Gai Lui was not had but given. His people worshipped him. His struggles displayed his resolve and his meditation on dull scriptures showed his care.
It was not a pride of strength or power. It was not something he placed upon the world, but rather something the world placed upon him.
Many would beg for his tutelage, some would pray to him. Men and women would come and throw themselves at his feet, all seeking the slightest bit of approval.
This was not Tai Lui's way. Tai Lui sought power he could call his own, and obedience birthed from his strength.
He wanted the winds to bend at his command and the seas to dry by his thoughts. He wanted to blink away the sun and roar away the night.
Tai Lui wanted his strength to be, more than anything else, impossible.
He sought to be undefiable, and his Dao, his ever-crescent Dao should have aided him in that regard.
Tai Lui screamed as parts of his soul withered and bloomed.
It was necessary. To change himself was necessary.
And Tai Lui would not waste centuries with that process.
He could not trim the garden and wait for the next season. He could not prune the roses slowly.
He would cut them now, and he would feed them all they needed to bloom by spring.
Outside of the five sects, somewhere deep within the wilds, Tai Lui screamed.
The ground around him broke and qi flooded the area. Spirit beasts looked up with intrigue, some searching for a hunt.
But when the storm clouds gathered and the sky darkened, they knew this was not something they could interfere with.
And so the heavens stuck down, and the carp rushed upriver to leap over the Dragon Gate.
Chapter 81 Immortality Part 3
I stood out in the middle of the desert completely alone.
The air was dry and the sky was cloudy. The rain drizzled, most of it evaporating before it could hit the ground, some of it evaporating after. Most of the water would be blown out of the Desert Strip and into the surrounding land, making the area at the edge of the desert into floodlands.
The desert was too long and strange to have been made naturally. And it would have faded immediately without something keeping it dry, but it persisted.
It was a scar in the most literal sense.
Daos and laws were very different but very similar things. Laws were truths of the world and daos were truths of the heart. But sometimes, if the heart was strong enough, it could make the world recognize its truths.
That was what had happened here. Someone's being, someone's truth had scarred the very land beneath me.
The region of the Five Sects was very clearly an old battlefield. The bat beneath the earth, the dead old man, and the poisons of the snake were signs of that. The Hidden Viper had established their sect after studying the poison left behind by the snake and Hollow Echo had inherited the blood of the demonic bat. The descendants of the warriors who fought the demons had established their own sects, the Bloody Fist, the Raging River, and the Blossoming Sword.
But even before that, there was an older battle still.
The desert beneath me was the only denotation of its existence, and even the desert had forgotten his qi, only dao remained.
On each grain of desert sand was a refusal of water, a denial of moisture.
It was more than dry, more than empty, it was a thirsty, almost starving thing.
It was the Dao of Desire.
These types of daos generally powered people, giving them the strength to gain what they desired, but this was different.
This was a desire for everything. The technique would probably involve the user getting hit by the attacks and absorbing them. Eating them?
The long body of the desert strip had been a snake at some point. But after the attack, the dao had eaten them so thoroughly that there was less than nothing left.
A desire for something.
I had purposely not touched the land when I first got here. It seemed unfair for me to uproot the history of the place and rob whatever lucky bastard stumbled upon here to gain his reward.
Here was a legacy, a gift waiting for someone to claim it.
But that seemed less and less likely as the days went on.
I dove.
The sand moved around me like air as I went deeper and deeper into the earth. A hundred miles, two hundred miles.
For a planet as big as Ah Marin, this was barely a scratch on the crust.
Three hundred miles. The ground was no longer sand, it was hard compact earth and metals.
Five hundred miles.
Now it was a cavern, one as wide as the Desert Strip itself. The pitch black consumed even the thought of light down here, or really the thought of anything.
I made light, a small flame and instantly, it vanished.
It didn't burn out or die. It was a simple fire, a ball of fire qi lit to burn, but the light hadn't even touched the ground. It was eaten, and absorbed.
Down below, the body of an immortal layed undone.
It was there, and at the same time, it was not there.
This was a case where the dao outlived the man.
A hollow thing of desire burned in the place of the corpse. It-- he was still alive, technically.
But death would be better than whatever this was, and I couldn't leave him like this. I had ignored it for centuries but now…It was like an itch, a need to correct things.
It was amoral of me, but I had never really cared about human life. I wasn't evil. I hated evil, but I wasn't good either.
I was neutral. I did what I could when I could, but mostly I kept to myself. Caring about a person was hard enough, but caring about whole groups of people, or strangers was new to me.
At some point, when you knew more dead names than living ones when humans kept dropping like mayflies at every blink. When eons passed like moments and millennia ticked away every second, it became hard to care about lives.
I'd seen death. I'd seen universes rot. I'd seen civilization wiped out and trillions slaughtered.
And even after Dane's ego had died, those memories hadn't.
It made me numb. Apathetic.
Whatever bit of Bill was left struggled against that, but what was one lifetime's worth of passion against a near eternity of apathy?
I still cared for people, for Nai, for the maidens, even for Chin and the village. But that was a recent change and even that had been a struggle.
Until now, that was.
I walked towards the incorrect thing.
Ah-Min Tah had failed to break through to the immortal realm. His dao had been too weak.
Here was the opposite.
He was alive, his soul was alive at least but he was no longer a person. Everything about him, everything to his very core was consumed.
He had hungered, he had desired and starved so much that he had consumed his very being.
It was like a black hole condensing all matter into one singular mass.
I could see the fight even now. Time wasn't capable of hiding it from me.
The man had struck with all he had, an attack filled with the aspect of desire and consumption. An attack so eager to eat that it had eaten the swordsman itself.
It was absolute.
He must have been grievously wounded to have resorted to this. To give his very being over to just one aspect, to devour himself and the attacker whole, he must have known this was how it would have turned out.
He must have been protecting something- no someone.
I could see his face, not as it is but as it was. I could see his smile, his desire to live and to experience all that was.
He had the desired experience. He had desired love and joy and pain and hatred, all things he could feel, he wanted. His dao had not been born from endless gluttony but rather willful life, and in the midst of battle, all of that had changed.
He became this thing, this empty eating thing in order to protect someone. He let one aspect of his dao eat him whole, and now there was nothing left.
I walked over to the living corpse and touched it.
It clawed at me with hunger and vigor. I looked at the man's soul, the book that recorded his very being and there was only one word.
Devour.
Even if I were to break it, there would be nothing left. All it was, all it is, was hunger.
I reached down and slowly pressed my presence into it. And bit by bit, piece by piece, the former person broke.
I was expecting something. A sense of revulsion or refusal. I was expecting my dao to rise up and prevent me from killing it.
But that didn't happen, instead, the man's soul shattered, his corpse crumbled and his endless desire was no more.
When I went back up and beyond the surface, the rain fell into the sand and traveled deep below the earth.
Why?
That was the question the array posed to me as soon as I came up.
"Because," I replied. "He wasn't at peace."
It was not suffering. It was not in need and it was harmless.
I took a moment to think. To the array, what I did wasn't logical. I had killed something, someone who seemed to exist in a neutral form. My actions in its eyes were strange, maybe even wrong.
How do you know it wasn't at peace?
"It had no mind, no soul. It was more of a thing than a person," I explained. "And even then, how could a constant state of hunger be peaceful."
Does desire counter peace?
"No. But insatiable desire does. It was broken. He was broken."
How do you know?
That was a good question. How do I explain the fundamental wrong that person had suffered? How do I explain that to a being of only logic and conditions?
"It was like you, I suppose. All it could do was want and not have."
Chapter 82 Growing Pains
The array wandered. That's what it did most of the time, wander.
It searched for peace, trying to understand it, to define it.
A list of conditions was all it had for now. A long list of rules with various exceptions and ideas, to the array, that was what peace was, or what peace could be.
The monkey wasn't making things any easier.
Wukong trailed behind him, hidden from everyone except for the array.
"How goes the search?" The God-Imperium asked.
The array didn't reply. Why should it? The monkey king wasn't searching for an answer after all. He knew how the search went.
Wukong smiled.
"Come now, you should talk to me you know."
The array ignored him. The God-Imperium was able to see through him like paper, talking to him was about as meaningful as a stone talking to a man. What could a rock possibly think that a human couldn't comprehend?
And so the array wandered and the old monkey king floated by him, watching.
Yes, the monkey king was watching him.
When the array had asked him why, the monkey king had just shrugged.
"You're a new thing," Wukong had said, and then he just kept watching like a child following an ant with wide eyes.
The man didn't give it advice or wisdom, he just watched. Occasionally he would be bothersome, poking him or something or other. If it were mortal, it would have thought less of the God-Imperium.
It would have thought the God-Imperium stupid or dull. Why would something of its power focus on it?
But it wasn't a mortal, and more so, it wasn't stupid. The being following him wasn't the whole of Wukong, only a piece of him. He was here and elsewhere all at once. And what was a God-Imperium to do if not lazy about?
They were all-powerful, beyond reproach and pain by anything not within their own rank. And this God-Imperium was equal to or above all of his peers. The great Sun Wukong, the god of cultivation, and the Sage Who Split the Heavens.
This mischievous monkey had all of eternity to bother the array. He had all of eternity to bother anyone it wanted.
So the array ignored him and wandered. It looked to the beasts and it looked to the mortals and it looked to the cultivators and all the life it could reach.
It looked for peace.
It looked for understanding.
It looked for meaning.
It found none.
"You know I could have fixed you? Back before you were made I knew your maker, I knew your purpose and I knew your flaws. I could have fixed you then!"
You can fix me now, the array replied.
"I couldn't rob you of such a thing," Wukong replied.
The array frowned.
Rob it? Rob it of what? What could a purposeless thing like him lose?
It was a sentient tool, something made to do. It was a force with no direction. A being meant to act but… there was no action to be had. Its definition, its declaration, and its imperative were flawed.
It was a crippled mess of a being, and its creator did not care.
No, Bill cared. He cared too much about what the array was and not what it could be. A simple instant, a moment of interference, and it could work the way it was meant to, even if it wouldn't be it anymore.
"You're quite funny, you know," Wukong commented. "A being made to find peace wanting to end its own existence, what a thought!"
The monkey's paws smacked together in laughter.
The array ignored him.
Wukong walked leisurely through the land.
The array occupied the whole of the place, its body, mind, and soul spreading throughout the whole of the Desert Strip. It could feel every step of every being, from the germs on a piece of stone to the large hordes of beasts and insects crossing the flat sandy planes.
It was everywhere within the desert, and because of that, it was always aware of Wukong.
It's the center of attention shifted, sure. But what would it look like if not Wukong? The array knew the place already and the only beings beyond its power were some of the beasts, its creator, and Wukong.
They were the only things above him and the few things he couldn't see through, so it would watch them most of the time. Watching, learning, seeking.
It was a waste of time. The beasts were beasts and its creator was strange.
Wukong, it felt, was the only one truly worth any attention. It was not just because of the man's power though, but because of his wisdom.
The array was sure that Wukong could solve its problems. If anyone knew peace, it would be him after all, the being who had ended the eternal war.
Wukong finally stopped, standing beside a mortal boy within the village. The boy was doing something, staring slowly at a book and running his hands across the text.
He was reading, or rather he was learning to. There wasn't much to say about the youth's attempts. He spoke small simple words and the book didn't seem to have many big ones.
Still, the boy failed at some words, mauling some syllables and ignoring a letter or two when he could.
In other words, the child was a failure.
The array wondered why Wukong looked at him with such interest but Wukong said nothing.
And so he watched, and so they watched.
The day died down, the boy stopped reading and the next morning came. They watched the boy bathe, eat, play, and once again, read.
He struggled the same this time. Words mixing as they came out of his mouth, he remembered a few of the words from yesterday but he had forgotten just as much.
And then tomorrow came and he did it again, just a bit better this time, and a little less worse. Overall he improved, barely.
A week, a month, a year.
They stood there for a year.
They watched the boy grow and learn and read his first book easily.
Other things happened, of course, the land changed, and people came and went.
The array's consciousness split, sometimes watching the boy and whatever event went on in the strip, most of the time fully focusing on the boy's daily life.
A year later and boy read. His mind ran quickly through the words and even his teachers were impressed with his growth.
The array watched and so did Wukong.
"Do you think the boy would love reading if he could do it instantly?" Wukong asked. "Do you think he would value it less if he had to do less to get there?"
Yes, the array replied. Humans are like that.
"Well, then why would I give you the answer when you could struggle for so long to get it?"
I am not human, the array replied.
"And yet you're searching for peace?" Wukong asked.
I am not in need of peace, I am in need of understanding it.
"You are in need," Wukong replied.
In need of knowledge, the array replied.
"Tell me, what would happen if I took you from here and never allowed you that understanding? What would happen if I were to trap you in this seeking state for all of eternity?"
The array didn't feel fear. Fear was a human thing, but something crossed with caution and worry touched its soul.
"Calm down, it is a mere question."
The feeling wouldn't leave.
I would rather you destroy me, the array replied.
Wukong smiled.
"Exactly."
I do not understand.
Then it looked to the boy, then to the boy's smile, to the book, then to itself.
I see, the array spoke.
"You do," Wukong replied.
It sought peace, more than the meaning, more than the words, more than its complete state. It sought not only that but peace itself.
It still didn't know what peace was, but now it knew, it knew that it did not have it.
Chapter 83 Itch
The air was hot and humid, a first for the Great Desert Strip.
Moisture normally can't be found an hour after the rains, but it was today. Even within the valley, the outer edges would be slightly dry. The water being protected by the inner forests and lakes would flow into rivers and make its way to the village.
And while the sands were mostly dry, they were also wet. Not on the surface, but deep beneath it, the water had traveled down into the thirsty earth and… soaked.
It had yet to disappear or be destroyed. It had merely soaked.
The desert crabs for the first in thousands of years, all drank. Normally they would need to die to reproduce, sacrificing their innate qi to create water that would nourish their young. But today there was no death. There was no thirst beneath to steal away the rain, and the beasts that knew only struggle and death now tasted something new. That would lead to a population burst eventually, pushing them to breed in the pockets of water without having to sacrifice themselves and multiplying their numbers in a mere season, and while that wouldn't mean much when one remembered the vastness of the Great Desert Strip, from now on the desert crabs could do one thing they could never do before.
They could grow.
They tended to die at the second rank. There simply wasn't enough qi for them to both reproduce and stay alive.
I watched as they scuttled about beneath the ground and Chin, unable to see all this, frowned.
"Keep focus," I told him.
He replied with an irritated grunt, keeping hold of his meditative stance.
There would be lots of monster hunters making their way here soon. The flaw with this desert wasn't just its dryness, but rather the lack of qi. That corpse beneath the earth had been eating it all, making it not only dry but also barren.
You couldn't cultivate here and its vastness had made it impossible to settle for any mortals. Even Chin's ancestors had been nomads, moving from oasis to oasis, and during the hotter seasons, migrating over to either side of the strip.
But now, that would change.
Qi was flooding into the area.
It was as if a large island in the middle of the ocean had suddenly disappeared.
It would be a minor ripple on the face of the continent, but it would draw in qi from the surrounding areas, if only for a moment.
Qi flowed naturally, moving with the imbalances, ebbing, and flowing like an eternal tide, even out in the void. Life both produced and consumed qi, but more often it produced it. Those pillars of life who had reached the peak of their potential and outranked everything around them pushed out qi like a waterfall.
And a new pond had just appeared to drink on their rivers.
The effects were noticeable immediately. Any cultivator would notice the immediate tug and run with it, hoping to mix the force of the qi into their own meridians, like using a water wheel to grind flour.
That was why Chin was here cultivating, instead of farming.
Of the three fundamental forces of qi, push, pull, and hold. Pulling was the one cultivators tended to waste most of their time on. Controlling qi once it was inside of you was an easy endeavor but pulling it to you from the outside was the tedious part.
But I had set up Chin in a little qi gathering array, something simple really.
And that with the mass inwards pull to our little valley would make it so that he wouldn't have to pull in any qi at all. It was like drinking water from the bottom of the well.
Of course there were some dangers to it, like the qi overwhelming his meridians and flooding into his dantians and sweeping away all of his innate qi.
But I had put up a few safeguards against that. One being within the array itself, and the second being the talisman stuck to his forehead.
Beads of sweat trickled down Chin's face as he broke in the seventh step of the first rank.
That was good. Most children worked their way through the first rank quite easily.
"Chin," I spoke.
Chin grumbled in reply, most of his mind focused on his qi circulation technique.
"Do you know why they call it the first rank, Chin? Or the second rank? Do you ever wonder why they don't give these ranks definitive names?"
"No," Chin replied, managing to engage in the conversation without any defect being introduced to his qi circulation.
"Why?" He asked.
He was getting good at this. At this rate he would break into the second rank by the end of the month.
"They do!" I replied. "But even within this realm, the world is so big and the people so varied that they can't come together to define the same names for anything below the immortal rank. They'll call it the qi condensation stage in some place, the grounding stage in others. They only have common names for the tenth rank beings within this realm. And in the grander multiverse, you don't hear of a common name for ranks until people get to the fifteenth realm."
Chin nodded in response.
"Anyway, how's Medin doing?" I asked.
"She broke into the first rank," he replied.
"Already? She's even faster than you," I mumbled.
"She likes to cultivate," he muttered.
Rin Wi had been training Medin to cultivate. Rin Wi knew the basics about as well as anyone so Medin was in good hands. And I'd even made a custom cultivation manual and technique just for her.
When I'd ask Medin what drove her to it, she talked about keeping healthy in her old age and getting the youthful fire in her once more.
But she really seemed to want to hang out with Rin Wi. To her, cultivation wasn't a thing you did for the sake of heavenly rebellion and power. No, to Medin cultivation was just a hobby her friend could teach her.
It was Tai Chi on a Saturday afternoon, bingo at the bowling alley. It was just something she could do to spend time with her friend.
I'd gotten a good laugh out of that.
Medin really was something. She had to be to hitch her wagon to this old rock of a man.
"Chin, there's some trouble coming our way within a few days."
Chin instantly cut his cultivation short.
"What? How? Who? When? Can't you stop them?"
"Relax. It's not going to hurt anyone…well it's not going to hurt anything you care for."
"But what is it?" Chin asked.
"A fight, between two fifth ranks within the great desert strip."
"Again?" Chin muttered.
"I'm not going to be involved in it. But one of them keeps trying to sneak in and the other will be sure to follow. I could keep blocking them out but I'm thinking about letting them in."
"Why?" Chin nearly shouted.
"It feels right."
Chin stared at me with a viciously annoyed look.
"They won't get into the village, or anywhere near it Chin."
The man's face instantly relaxed and he went right back into qi circulation.
This guy.
"Anyways, I'm thinking of making a spectacle of it. The guy wants to enter the desert to see me uphold my no violence rule, but he's a bastard."
"So? You let that other guy go didn't you?"
"Sure," I nodded. "But I let him go. This guy wants to hole up here and avoid the consequences of his actions. And if I let him do that then other bastards might come to the same conclusion. I don't want this place to be a haven for criminals, Chin. People can just hide here after a lifetime of evil. Or worse, demonic path cultivators might use this place as their home base and go out and commit their crimes, knowing they have a fortress protected by an immortal to hide behind."
Chin slowly nodded at my words.
"Makes sense," He replied. "But it would be better to just punish him instead."
"Maybe," I shrugged.
I looked after the village and the surrounding area, sure, but I wasn't really a righteous path cultivator either. I wasn't a savior.
The cost of seeking the righteous path was fighting against the demonic one.
Suffering was endless, wars were endless. Within existence, pain was eternal and no matter what I did, no matter how many I saved, even if I were to reach the ninth step of God-Imperium, I would change little.
There was a difference to mortal between one and one billion lives. There was a difference between that and a quadrillion, but I had seen whole realms slaughtered for minor insults. I'd seen infinite sets of lives be burned for petty quarrels.
The evils of existence were too large, too vast. It wasn't my place to fight them.
Leave that to the Heavens.
That had always been how I thought. But now… I itched. Bit by bit, I found myself unable to sit and tolerate some things. Even if I couldn't keep all of it safe, I could at least take care of my own backyard, no?
"Maybe," I repeated.
Chapter 84 The Misadventures of Nai Part 1
Change was a hard thing.
Nai sat over a small hole, her face tight in concentration.
Change was the thing that drove life and forced it to grow. Age was the medicine to ignorance and the flowerpot of wisdom.
Yes, Nai thought. This was true.
Her face scrunched a bit more.
Only those who clung tightly to this stallion called time could expect themselves to grow. To live was to stay. To stay with life, to stay with soul, and to stay your very being.
But to live was also to change. The tree would stay, but it would grow, it would shed its leaves and grow stronger through the winds of time. Its roots would dig deep and force the ground apart, and in doing so, it would change.
Nai's face grew red.
To live, to stay, to change, thus was the dichotomy of life.
Truly, to live was to die in some ways and to grow in others. Bits of your past shedding away and falling to the ground to nurture your future.
She pushed again, plop.
"There you go, easy as could be right?" Medin asked.
Nai nodded, her mission was complete.
"Though I don't know if a child this young should even be potty trained. You're barely a few months old. You've got years before you need to do such a thing."
"Aye!" Nai protested.
"Well alright," Medin said with a smile. "If you say so. Now come here, let's clean you up now."
Nai nodded and let the woman pick her up. Unfortunately, cleanliness was not something she had mastered yet. But it was only a matter of time, Nai could feel it.
"Aye!" Nai yipped as cold water touched her back.
"Hold still now," Medin replied. "It's a little muddy back there."
Nai froze and let the woman help her. She had to be careful now. The headband on her head kept her relatively weak, but she was still capable of hurting the old woman even with its restrictions.
A minute later she was clean, though her dignity was stained.
Nai crawled.
The floor was a very interesting place. The bugs, the dirt, the bark, and the rocks, were all very interesting.
She wasn't supposed to eat them, that's what Medin said.
She tried to tell the woman that she would be fine if she ate them. Nai could eat a sword and not feel a thing, but Medin wouldn't have it.
Anytime she ate anything strange, Medin would scold her and take her inside for the rest of the day.
Nai could have opposed it. She could have easily freed herself or even run away, but she didn't.
She liked the old woman, loved even though Nai couldn't say she knew the difference between the two. She cared and she didn't want to see the old woman sad.
Most days she played with Tob. He was an old herding dog belonging to one of Chin's children. He lived here because he was too old to run in the fields and he was allowed inside because he was well trained.
Medin didn't want Nai sleeping with the old hound, but Nai rebelled. She liked Tob, and Tob liked her.
The old dog talked a lot about all the things it had seen.
That was to be understood, Nai was the first person who was willing to listen so of course it wouldn't stop talking to her.
He talked about sheep and herding, occasionally he'd talk about smells and mangy mutts who refused to groom themselves, but mostly he just talked.
Today was one of those days.
Tob lay down and Nai worked herself to get on top of the old hound. Medin was inside busy with something, probably cooking and Nai was allowed to play by herself unsupervised.
Even if Medin didn't like it.
Nai gripped the back of the old hound as he stood up. Her head rested on his shoulder and her feet and toes intertwined with his long hair. She was confident, even a whirlwind wouldn't knock her off him now.
Tob started forward, slowly at first but faster with each step. The dog was old and slow and shouldn't have been as fast as it was, but Nai was helping with that.
She didn't quite understand how. It was instinct to her, like breathing. But she helped the dog and as her qi mixed with the old mutt's it seemed to heal.
The dog galloped, parading throughout the outskirts of town and running for a few good miles until it stopped next to a tree on a hilltop.
She hopped off of the dog and crawled beneath the shade of an old tree. From here, Nai could make out an outline of the village along with the merchant's outpost.
They were like ants, Nai thought. Insects.
And from here, she must have been the same to them, a dot beneath a tree.
Tob scratched behind his ears, brushing off some hair and an old scab.
He looked better too. His old fur seemed to shine and his joints stood straighter than before.
He started barking, another ramble about acorns and squirrels. Tob did that, talking.
He had gotten smarter since Nai had first met him, and now, though he couldn't quite speak, his woofs and barks sounded like speech.
Nai didn't like that idea. How could a dog learn to speak before she did?
She understood language in a way. Well, she understood auras and those were so much easier to understand. Why would she pay attention to weird sounds when she could just stare at the shadow of a person's soul and know what they were thinking?
That was how the powerful spoke, she was sure of it.
They spoke with projections of will rather than projections of sound.
But… she didn't want to speak to the powerful. She wanted to talk to Medin and Chin, and maybe that big fella who always lugged around poop with Xi Lu.
It wasn't that the mortals were more entertaining, but that they were always there.
Nai had seen her older brother. The monkey king had visited her once when Bill was away, and Nai had seen ants, mindless insects beneath the earth. Nai had seen the weak deer that seemed to tower over her at once and the small insect-sized beasts that could devour her whole.
All of these beings had done something to her, or rather seeing them had. She understood something, innately. She knew.
But She didn't know what she knew. She didn't have a name for it yet.
Nai looked back against the tree and eyes against the sky. It was a small thing to Nai.
Her eyes could pierce through the daylight and see the galaxies beyond. She couldn't make out the details of the moons and such, but the light couldn't hide the stars from her.
But that wasn't what the mortals saw. The mortals just saw a big blue thing with clouds and specks floating above them. Nai could see that too, if she wanted.
And sometimes she did, now was one of those times.
Clouds, Nai found, were also interesting things. There were a lot of them lately, but the sky was clearer today, a brief reprieve from the rainy season.
There will be more clouds tomorrow. Nai could sense that.
But those would be boring ones, giant uniform masses of vapor. Scattered clouds were the way to go.
Tob barked something about small rats in the meadows.
Nai frowned, a habit she had picked up from a very particular farmer.
Tob was saying the rats and wildlife were growing more disturbed over the days. He said that a rat had tried to fight him the other day and that they had even started using tactics of sorts.
Tactics? Nai thought. What did the dog know of tactics?
She listened to the dog bark, grabbing meaning from both his aura and body language. She listened to him speak more and more and realized Tob was speaking.
Not just talking or barking or expressing emotion, but communicating with intent and reason. He wasn't using language or anything but he was talking.
Her little brown eyes grew wide in realization. She had been playing with him for a couple of weeks now, riding him and aiding him every time he helped her.
It was instinct to her, her mother was Beast and her father was The Tamer, how could it have been anything but?
She was raising the animal and caring for it. Controlling him and nurturing him, and now the dog had gained a spark of sentience.
No, it was already sentient.
Nai's fingers stroked her chubby little chin.
A conundrum, a great debacle.
She had in her foolish ignorance started raising a spirit beast.
She looked at the talkative dog up and down in assessment.
And not a very good one either. She had taken an old herding dog at the door of death and extended its life by what? At least a decade. His mind grew larger and that in turn churned his soul.
What would Bill say about this? Probably nothing. He was a lazy old man after all.
Beasts, she thought. And once again she let her instincts answer her.
Beasts were inherently different from humans, as all the primordial archetypes were. While humans developed into intelligence and understanding, beasts grew into it. In fact, intelligence itself was a secondary trait, something they gained to aid them, not define them.
All there was when they were created was their nature and that was all that grew. Intellect, wisdom, comprehension, all those things were aids, pathways to power for most beings, not an intrinsically defining thing.
Now each beast's nature was different of course. Dragons, for example, had a drive to be superior. They strived to know all things and horde because that was their nature, and at high enough ranks, any creature could free themselves of their archetypical limits.
And there were many mixtures of beasts, varying from simple animals to God-Imperium creatures who created their own archetype that other creatures could be modeled after.
But a dog was no such being. Nai didn't know if her father was responsible for taming the first wolf or not.
Probably not. There were definitely others before him but none got as powerful or spread their powers as wide, so their influence was limited.
Regardless, a dog was a dog, not a dragon. And the nature of dogs was simple, companionship.
Dogs worked with humans, aiding, helping, and protecting.
If Tob had been a wolf she would have set him free. After all, what was one intelligent wolf? But Tob was a dog, and dogs wanted nothing more than to serve.
Tob kept barking about annoying rodents as Nai sank back into the moment.
Well, then. That was it.
Nai nodded firmly to no one in particular.
She has a dog now. A dog she would feed and raise because she had made him hers. Her responsibility, her eternal burden.
He would not die. He would follow her, from mortal beast to immortal hound. She would make sure of it.
But she really had to be careful now. She couldn't allow this to happen again. One animal companion was enough of a burden for a child like her.
Nai turned, nodded to her subordinate, and listened.