Only Trash Is Born from Trash (1)

"Bastard Kai! Prepare to die!" I heard an enraged roar.

Blinking from the flash of flame, I found myself standing near a bookshelf. Nearby, unsuccessful library visitors lay unconscious. A crimson barrier of runes, maintained by... an old man, separated us from the pyromaniac maniac! The brothers stood next to me, having reactivated their auras. Well, so much for taking a stroll and showing everyone I'm alive.

"Satisfied? Decided to wreck my library before your death?" the old man growled, for some reason looking at me.

"Isn't the arsonist on the other side?" I waved in the direction of the enraged giant. Seriously, he was two heads taller than my guards, and his hanfu was barely containing his musculature. Is there a gym somewhere around here?

"Who do you think he came for, huh? Or do you think this oaf suddenly decided to read books?" he pointed at the continuing to cast brute. Several runes immediately rushed forward, forming a net in which the failed assassin got caught.

"Bastard Kai, are you going to hide behind others' backs for the rest of your life?" he laughed. "Where's your pride, brother? Didn't you say that the sky would fall before I could defeat you?"

Brother? Something clicked in my head, and I remembered! Remembered that it was his voice I heard first when I woke up. Is there anyone in this place who doesn't want to kill me?

"And this is coming from someone who cowardly attacked from behind. Are you afraid of me even now?" my words seemed to hit the mark. The giant's face reddened, and veins bulged on his forehead.

"You want it to be fair?! On the day of the Moon Festival! A duel! To the death!" he hissed. "I'll personally tear off your head and make a cup out of your skull..."

"Get out, you scumbag!" the librarian interrupted the flow of verbal diarrhea and with a wave of his hand threw the guy out the window. "And you... You can come whenever you want now. Just don't damage the books."

And he said this to me in such a sweet tone that I got goosebumps all over. What's with this sudden mood change? Oh, this doesn't bode well. But I didn't panic to please the nasty sorcerer.

"Thank you, honorable one," I tried to imitate a bow.

"What, you fool, forgot my name? I'm Elder Mo Shan! A cultivator of the highest stage of the golden core! Ah, right, you don't even remember that," he grimaced. "Read whatever you want, a dead man won't reveal our secrets to anyone anyway."

"Why so sure? Maybe I won't die?" I asked, but Mo Shan just looked at me like I was an idiot in response.

"Sir, your brother Ho has challenged you to a duel. Formally, you've already reached the highest stage of meridian tempering, have faced him in duels several times, being the initiator, and therefore cannot refuse. A legal quirk," one of the brothers whispered. The old man laughed contentedly in confirmation of his words.

"Correct, and I, as one of the elders, was a witness to the challenge. Perhaps if little Ho wins, I won't even punish him for the rampage," the elder smiled contentedly and went downstairs. "Oh, so many things to do, I need to send out invitations. Surely many elders will want to see this. Truly, the Heavens always reward us according to our merits!"

"And this Ho, is he actually strong?"

"Middle stage of tempering. His talent is simply incredible," Cho shrugged.

"Wait, so I was stronger. And younger," it dawned on me.

"Yes, you also cultivated quite well," both of them averted their eyes. Something's fishy here.

In general, all this looks very much like a setup, but... I kind of expected something like this. Although no, at first I expected poison in a glass, a knife in the back, a collapsed ceiling, but this duel, oddly enough, only played into my hands. Now the elders and everyone I've annoyed will be eagerly waiting for me to be smeared across the arena to the joyful cries of the crowd. Well, how else, I'm no longer a practitioner, and this giant throws fireballs. Which means I can breathe a little easier. Well, or I've just made it all up and I'll simply be killed by another ill-wisher on the way out of the Pagoda of Knowledge. One of the two.

There are mere trifles left, to become strong enough in the remaining time before the duel to defeat a not-so-weak sorcerer. Sorry, practitioner. A piece of cake.

"And when is the Moon Festival?"

"In ten days," he looked at me strangely. Well, yes, I "forgot" such trifles too.

I just nodded and returned to the bookshelf. It was completely unharmed from my newly found brother's attack.

While I was choosing what to read, servants unnoticeably carried away the bodies of visitors who had fallen victim to the hot-tempered incident. They were all alive. Either the explosion was just a scare, or the old man and my guards had worked flawlessly. Only it's unclear why they fainted then.

I quickly scanned through all the available books. Occasionally, a system window popped up in front of me, but all the techniques for learning required Qi. So I decided to start with theory.

Finally, a volume caught my eye. "The Origins of Dao. The Beginning." This turned out to be exactly what I was looking for - the basics of local magical theory for dummies. After checking with the bodyguards that books couldn't be taken out under any circumstances, I sat down at one of the tables. The chair turned out to be surprisingly comfortable, and in the table itself I found a crystal that functioned as a light bulb. Convenient.

"Dao is like a rapid stream. It can go around a stone, or it can turn it into dust." My eyes were drooping. Stars were already showing outside the window, and I hadn't really gained much understanding of how local magic works. Although I had read all ten books of pure theory that were available here. The only valuable information was the local ranks of power. Everything else was like something in between fiction and a philosophical treatise.

Qi Concentration. Ten levels. Makes a person stronger, faster, and tougher. Apparently, particularly gifted individuals can already do weak sorcery.

Meridian Tempering. Three stages. Initial, middle, and highest. This is where real magic begins. Fireballs, flight, all kinds of shields, and other special effects.

Core Formation. The same three stages. At this stage, the practitioner turns into a walking mana generator... I mean, Qi. The book described a story of how a noble Daoist at this stage turned a desert into a flowering garden. Immediately after the story of how another Daoist razed a city to the ground for being served cold tea.

Next come Spirit Generation and Celestial Awakening, but it's only said about them that they exist and that they are cool and powerful and everyone should be like them.

"How is your progress on the path to Immortality, sir?" Sho asked as soon as I returned the books to the shelf.

Yes. I forgot the main thing. All these stages not only improved the body and allowed for magical tricks. They also added years to one's life. So even a practitioner at the initial stage of concentration could live a hundred or two years. What to say about those who are stronger? I wonder how old this old man Mo is, since he said he's at the core stage, and looks like a rotten potato? Three hundred years? A thousand?

"Not bad, not bad," I nodded. "We should return to the chambers. Will you escort me?"

"We dare not leave you," Cho replied. "Only during the duel."

"Thanks for the reminder," I threw a sour look at him. "By the way, what did father order if I didn't come out of the room, as you advised?"

"You would have died a quiet and painless death. The Shen clan doesn't need cowards and weaklings," he calmly replied, looking me straight in the eyes.

"And brother Ho - is he your spectacle too?" I decided to ask, since we're having an evening of revelations.

"We didn't aim to kill you," he shrugged. And what he meant by that is unclear.

We walked to the chambers in silence. No one bothered our company, no one tried to kill. Only a couple of times did I catch glances full of malice and anticipation, but they didn't dare to do anything.